<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205</id><updated>2011-10-03T06:51:29.418-04:00</updated><category term='cooking'/><category term='women'/><category term='addiction'/><category term='reading'/><category term='illness'/><category term='children'/><category term='Kindermusik'/><category term='vocation'/><category term='tired'/><category term='books'/><category term='holiday'/><category term='my boys'/><category term='school'/><category term='depression'/><category term='blog'/><category term='USA'/><category term='preaching'/><category term='across the miles'/><category term='CPE'/><category term='baptist'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='blessings'/><category term='dh'/><category term='breastfeeding'/><category term='family'/><category term='internet'/><category term='speech'/><category term='risks'/><category term='2008'/><title type='text'>Longing for home</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>127</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5923187841337873746</id><published>2011-01-05T10:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T10:34:52.938-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kindermusik'/><title type='text'>My Own Business Part 2</title><content type='html'>I am a licensed Kindermusik educator now!!  I am taking enrollments for the spring semester.  I have a lot of responsibility all of a sudden, but I am excited about this venture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought anything like this would happen to me.  Just goes to show that our lives can take unexpected turns every now and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5923187841337873746?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5923187841337873746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5923187841337873746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5923187841337873746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5923187841337873746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-own-business-part-2.html' title='My Own Business Part 2'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4893391133811362006</id><published>2010-09-20T11:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T11:12:23.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Own Business</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago, our Kindermusik educator told all her students that she would no longer provide Kindermusik because it was time for her to focus on other areas of her life.  It was heart-breaking for me even though I understand her intentions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I want to be a Kindermusik educator for my area.  Who knew it was so much work though?  I only want to run the business and hire the old teachers to teach.  But I have to take all the training of a Kindermusik teacher and the business training as well.  And that is my life right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least soon I'll have a positive answer for my baby who asks every morning, "Music?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4893391133811362006?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4893391133811362006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4893391133811362006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4893391133811362006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4893391133811362006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-own-business.html' title='My Own Business'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7435398569551334239</id><published>2010-09-07T15:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T16:06:59.691-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><title type='text'>Woe Unto You</title><content type='html'>Woe unto all who decide to teach a children's Sunday School class.  You will never be able to stop teaching it.  And also that mid-week class that you volunteered for--how difficult it is to stop (especially when your own children are in the class).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of launching two new businesses in our household (my husband's staffing company and my potential ownership of Kindermusik in our community), I have to take time off from my church duties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say nothing of being burned out and needing renewal myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I feel like I am getting dirty looks for wanting to stop teaching the classes?  And how do I really get away from teaching them as new teachers have not been found?  And I am still teaching Sunday School two years after I said I wanted to stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I let them stew and fret over new teachers.  There really has to be a better way to recruit, but so few people in our churches volunteer to serve.  I thought our church would be different, but I've been in the discipleship team meetings and seen how it is so difficult to get people to step forward.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is the start-up of mid-week activities.  No teacher for the preschoolers.  Am I supposed to feel so guilty for wanting to not teach?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Churches need to assume that service only lasts for one year.  That way a teacher doesn't feel trapped by his/her class forever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I need a break, but I don't feel like anyone is believing me or encouraging me to take one.  I can see now why people get burned out and leave churches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7435398569551334239?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7435398569551334239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7435398569551334239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7435398569551334239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7435398569551334239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/09/woe-unto-you.html' title='Woe Unto You'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1553659322416913559</id><published>2010-08-28T23:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T23:45:22.685-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is My Neighbor?</title><content type='html'>I teach our preschool Sunday School class at my church.  Last week's lesson was on the Good Samaritan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the early hours of Monday morning, I awoke from a dream.  In it, I was disagreeing with someone over abortion--I think it started with a disagreement over something else though.  But as I awoke, I had only one thing in my mind--one question really... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is my neighbor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so strange to awaken to that question, but all during this week I have remembered to ask myself that question at various times.  When I saw the homeless man with a sign a couple of miles from my house...he is a neighbor.  I discussed that idea with my oldest son right there in the car.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I see all the people I disagree with over personal convictions (a lot of them in DC today), I realize they are my neighbors, too.  No matter if we see eye to eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very humbling to look at all people and see that God loves them.  Our children, our actual neighbors, our pastor, our friends, our enemies, the people with whom we disagree, criminals, terrorists--God loves them all.  It makes identifying your neighbor easier said than done.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story of the Good Samaritan is not so simple when it is actually put into practice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1553659322416913559?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1553659322416913559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1553659322416913559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1553659322416913559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1553659322416913559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/08/who-is-my-neighbor.html' title='Who is My Neighbor?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1583528202814841903</id><published>2010-08-19T22:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T23:02:35.319-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='across the miles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Far From Home</title><content type='html'>I grew up about 4 hours from where I live now.  Some days it is difficult to be so far from home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like when there are complications with my brother and sister-in-law's pregnancy.  Doctors are discussing the possibility that it is Downs Syndrome.  And oh, how I wish I was there to sit beside them (and my Mom).  Not so easy to do through the phone or on Facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1583528202814841903?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1583528202814841903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1583528202814841903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1583528202814841903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1583528202814841903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/08/far-from-home.html' title='Far From Home'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3605719477699953195</id><published>2010-08-18T23:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T00:06:45.246-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Hiding Place</title><content type='html'>I am blessed to have a not small walk-in closet.  It isn't the biggest thing, but it is adequate.  I am not talking about just clothes here.  I have four small bookshelves in my closet--every one packed with books.  Books I had in divinity school.  Books that I have acquired since divinity school that are sermon helps.  Books I just want to read because everyone else is reading them or they sparked some interest in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a giant floor pillow to lean against, and I can just read right there in my closet.  It muffles the sounds of the rest of the house.  It is a place to think, but mainly it is a place to get away into the world of a book.  Getting caught up with the characters, and forgetting that I'm even in my closet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my husband and I have a disagreement, I sometimes escape.  Sometimes, particularly after school, I go there to escape my boys' whining.  They all know where to find me, but I think they realize that Mama needs a time out sometimes, too.  Sometimes when my oldest son needs to read his book for school, he gets to go to my closet.  It may end up being scared space in the house as we search for a place to pause and think and read and dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I designated my half of my closet as my own place in the house.  I think it is very important to have a place like that.  Silence is good.  Self-reflection is good.  It can bring renewal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3605719477699953195?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3605719477699953195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3605719477699953195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3605719477699953195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3605719477699953195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/08/hiding-place.html' title='Hiding Place'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3524941834093670249</id><published>2010-08-08T22:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T22:56:38.243-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Sleeping Child</title><content type='html'>My 2-year-old feel asleep in the car Saturday evening around 7 PM.  I managed to get him in the house and in his toddler bed without waking him.  He got up at 8:30 AM Sunday morning.  What a good sleeper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This child is so funny about his new toddler bed.  Only one day in the past week that he has used it has he gotten out of it in the morning.  Usually he is just laying in bed waiting for someone to come and get him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My older boys would never even sleep in a crib.  But with the pressures of having more children to care for, I made sure that baby #3 was "crib-conditioned."  He never knew anything else.  In fact, he cannot sleep unless alone in a room on a crib mattress.  Such a change, but it has been refreshing for his mama.  When Mama gets sleep, too, life is much more pleasant.  And since his older brothers sleep so well together in their full-size bed, I never would have believed that we wouldn't have sleep issues with three youngsters in the house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just reminds me how life can surprise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3524941834093670249?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3524941834093670249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3524941834093670249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3524941834093670249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3524941834093670249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/08/sleeping-child.html' title='Sleeping Child'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7501767715616535129</id><published>2010-08-05T22:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T22:29:24.485-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cooking'/><title type='text'>Cooking</title><content type='html'>I hate cooking.  Now that my husband has quit his second shift job, we have to cook most nights.  I am getting by.  Menu planning helps a lot although I usually just worry about the main dish and not the sides.  The best thing though was that my husband started cooking, too.  The traditional Chinese chicken soup like his mother makes, my husband can make that now!  Also, we have the method for preparing green beans like my MIL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my in-laws were here a few weeks ago, my husband asked me to get them to show me how they cook (the foods that my husband likes).  I refused to do it unless he learned as well.  So we didn't learn.  Instead my husband has been relying on memory and some spoken instructions.  And we are doing pretty good at this cooking thing.  We have been figuring it out for ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying out several new recipes a week--some have been good and others are not so good.  I have to go to the grocery store more now, too.  But that is okay due to my extreme couponing, so our food bill hasn't increased that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day I'll actually enjoy cooking.  But I'm not holding my breath about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7501767715616535129?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7501767715616535129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7501767715616535129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7501767715616535129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7501767715616535129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/08/cooking.html' title='Cooking'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-62744859512647847</id><published>2010-08-02T22:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T22:20:22.463-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Crying over Kindergarten?</title><content type='html'>My best friend's daughter started Kindergarten today, three weeks after my son started.  I have other friends and acquaintances whose children have started school.  They all say they cry about it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really?  Crying over Kindergarten?  I say save the tears until you are driving them to college.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, I never cried when my oldest started school, and I never cried when this second son started school.  I have kept the philosophy that my goal is to teach my sons to be independent.  Kindergarten is a step along that way.  And I've not cried one tear about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I do have one more son at home.  In three years, I'll let you know if there were tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-62744859512647847?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/62744859512647847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=62744859512647847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/62744859512647847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/62744859512647847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/08/crying-over-kindergarten.html' title='Crying over Kindergarten?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6729492598835988118</id><published>2010-07-30T23:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-30T23:49:38.038-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blessings'/><title type='text'>Where I Live</title><content type='html'>I have lived in north Raleigh for six years and one month.  Here are some reasons I love living here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I went to college here.&lt;br /&gt;2. I have a great church community at Heritage BC in Wake Forest, NC.&lt;br /&gt;3. I like my sons' teachers at the elementary school.&lt;br /&gt;4. I love the preschool at Hope Lutheran.&lt;br /&gt;5. I get to see and sometimes meet such a diverse group of people everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I do not like about living here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My heart is always in the county of my birth: Rutherford County, NC.  If the jobs had been there, I know my husband and I would have never left that county.  Our families are there.  But I feel very blessed to live where I do today, and I am thankful for the journey that got me here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6729492598835988118?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6729492598835988118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6729492598835988118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6729492598835988118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6729492598835988118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/where-i-live.html' title='Where I Live'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3369985349369040899</id><published>2010-07-28T23:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T23:22:48.810-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addiction'/><title type='text'>Online</title><content type='html'>I used to be online all day long.  I had a laptop on the kitchen table always on and connected throughout the day.  Now I restrict myself to getting online only after the children are in bed and my chores are done.  I may not even have 30 minutes online time, and I realize that that is okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be quite addicted to being online.  I could literally feel the rush when I turned on my computer.  So strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a conscience decision to limit my time online, and it was difficult at first.  But I think it is better for me.  Too much information all the time is very tiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, I get online, do what I need to do (mainly email), and I get offline.  Except tonight.  I should have been offline ten minutes ago, and I came to post on my blog instead.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3369985349369040899?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3369985349369040899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3369985349369040899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3369985349369040899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3369985349369040899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-used-to-be-online-all-day-long.html' title='Online'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3770719384279818976</id><published>2010-07-28T00:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T01:07:04.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weak Become Strong</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Book of Eli&lt;/span&gt; with my husband.  And then I had to spend 30 minutes telling him about all the theological references in the movie.  I always notice things like that since I'm always looking for things to put into a sermon.  Also the directing was super.  My husband doesn't notice things like that either.  *Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing I am reflecting on now is the way the weak become strong in the great stories of our day--both in movies and in books.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Book of Eli&lt;/span&gt; is a good example of this idea.  It is crazy in the eyes of the world to see that weak people can become the heroes and leaders and saviors for others.  But it is not crazy for a God who chose to enter into human history as a baby.  The weak become strong:  such is the Kingdom of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3770719384279818976?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3770719384279818976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3770719384279818976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3770719384279818976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3770719384279818976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/weak-become-strong.html' title='The Weak Become Strong'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7803983070666565693</id><published>2010-07-26T23:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T23:40:08.127-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='risks'/><title type='text'>Anxiety</title><content type='html'>My husband is buying his first business venture on Friday.  What a lot of anxiety for me!  I know that he will do well--he has a head for business.  The company--a staffing agency--is something that he will do well.  My husband has recruited before.  And he is super great at relating to people and selling his ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But so much anxiety for me!  I have a thousand doubts about this unknown.  For me, it is just a step of faith in him that gives me a bit of peace about this.  Beyond any financial security, I want this to be something that he loves to do--that he will have fun with his business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also feel like I am one step behind him as we figure out what things need to be in place for his owning the business.  I don't have a head for business apparently.  I have always learned better doing things hands-on.  Now I get my chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not too many things in my life have had such risk.  But taking risks and having them work out makes life rewarding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll trust my husband on this and have faith.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7803983070666565693?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7803983070666565693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7803983070666565693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7803983070666565693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7803983070666565693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/anxiety.html' title='Anxiety'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4568223887746358036</id><published>2010-07-23T22:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T22:48:34.321-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Sick Child</title><content type='html'>When my youngest child is sick, he just wants me to be near him.  He wants me to sit beside him as he watches episode after episode of Yo Gabba Gabba.  If I get up, he whines and cries until I sit back down.  That is reason the dishes don't get washed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we are weary and depressed and sick as adults, do we force our Parent to be near us?  God as our Parent isn't about to let other things in the world go undone, but I have never thought about my sickness and its relationship to God before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I suffered through the worst of my depression last year, my joy started returning once I pleaded with God to sit beside me.  Maybe I was like a whiny child, but I don't think God minds.  God loves me more than I will ever love any of my children.  God knows the sorrow and pain I go through better than I understand how my 2-year-old feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wished I had whined a little sooner because God was waiting all along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4568223887746358036?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4568223887746358036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4568223887746358036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4568223887746358036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4568223887746358036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/sick-child.html' title='Sick Child'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7069814935919113348</id><published>2010-07-22T23:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T23:35:00.106-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><title type='text'>Too Many Books?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I took my son to the library where he checked out 17 books.  As we were walking to the car, he said it was a lot of books.  I told him yes, but there can never be too many books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my closet, I have a lot of books.  Books I have collected through paperbackswap, and others I have ordered online, and others I have bought at bookstores (new &amp;amp; used).  Most days just the sight of my bookshelves in my closet gives me a thrill.  I look at the books and see all the places I could go or things to learn.  But where is the time?  I read the newspaper everyday, too--and sometimes (very rarely) I watch TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I need to use some of my computer time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I do know, at any given time of the day, there is always a book a few feet from me--a book I want to read and enjoy.  And I do not have too many books.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7069814935919113348?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7069814935919113348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7069814935919113348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7069814935919113348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7069814935919113348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/too-many-books.html' title='Too Many Books?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2181636730877921837</id><published>2010-07-21T10:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T10:33:40.064-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blog'/><title type='text'>Blogging:  So Old-Fashioned</title><content type='html'>You may have noticed that I have been blogging very rarely in the last couple of years.  Blame it on Facebook.  Keeping up with friends on FB has been the priority.  Blogging seems so yesterday now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a lot of things on my mind still, but processing them has been an activity saved for my therapist visits.  But this week I am feeling compelled to write.  I am glad I have a place to do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I got several new comments on old posts.  I have no idea why the sudden jump in comments.  Am I linked somewhere?  If you know, let me know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did serve as a reminder that I do still have this blog.  So maybe a little old-fashioned blogging is in order.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2181636730877921837?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2181636730877921837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2181636730877921837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2181636730877921837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2181636730877921837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/blogging-so-old-fashioned.html' title='Blogging:  So Old-Fashioned'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1150566019492304100</id><published>2010-07-19T22:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T22:29:25.720-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='women'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='preaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vocation'/><title type='text'>Preaching</title><content type='html'>I really like to preach.  Not just the standing in front of a congregation and delivering a sermon.  It is also preparing a sermon.  All the working with the text and figuring out the theological message that the author intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I prepare a sermon, I am sometimes surprised by the way it turns out.  Sometimes the theological message is one that I am not expecting at all.  Yet there it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never preach three points and a poem.  My sermons are more circular--spiraling to the center and landing on the central message at the end.  I like to tell stories, stories that are sometimes too personal.  Religion is experiential you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I preach, I have a sense that it is what I am supposed to do, where I belong.  I can live off the high of delivering a sermon for a few days.  I cannot imagine getting paid for something I love to do so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I currently preach about 5 times a year when area pastors ask me to fill in for them.  I am glad my name is out there, that the pastors know who to call.  I will be thankful for that and not dwell on the issue that if I were a man, I would have been pastoring a church for over ten years by now.  It is true, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a plan for my life, but it is a rare week that I don't wish that God would hurry up and reveal it to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1150566019492304100?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1150566019492304100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1150566019492304100' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1150566019492304100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1150566019492304100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/07/preaching.html' title='Preaching'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4279553586962093217</id><published>2010-04-05T17:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T17:33:15.918-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Think It Can't Be Done?</title><content type='html'>After reading this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brian-d-mclaren/why-do-evangelicals-disli_b_517094.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Do Evangelicals Dislike Me So Much?&lt;/a&gt; by Brian McLaren&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to say that I am pro-feminist, pro-social justice, anti-dispensational premillennialist, pro-immigrant, pro-Palestinian, pro-evolution, pro-gay rights, pro-choice, pro-ecumenical and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100% evangelical Christian complete with an M.Div. degree!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4279553586962093217?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4279553586962093217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4279553586962093217' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4279553586962093217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4279553586962093217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2010/04/think-it-cant-be-done.html' title='Think It Can&apos;t Be Done?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1657723581575064136</id><published>2009-06-26T13:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T13:24:26.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!</title><content type='html'>It is so refreshing to not see a wife standing beside a disgraced politician for a change.  &lt;a href="http://www.newsobserver.com/nation_world/story/1584166.html"&gt;Jenny Sanford--yer doin' it right!&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Mark Sanford did was his own choice and decision.  I hate seeing the wives standing there tight-lipped while the husband makes his apologies.  We all know that we pity them.  Some may even get the idea that the wife had a part in the infidelity--knowing about it and not doing anything, pushing the husband to have the affair (gag!).  We do judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm judging this as the right action.  If the day comes when I have to take a stand, may I remember this example.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1657723581575064136?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1657723581575064136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1657723581575064136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1657723581575064136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1657723581575064136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2009/06/finally.html' title='Finally!'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-9167699482861147907</id><published>2009-06-24T13:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T14:01:53.548-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='speech'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Ouch</title><content type='html'>Today, while walking out of the preschool with my son (who will be 4 next week), another boy in his class told him, "Bye bye, Baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard him tell his caregiver that that boy really is a baby; he only can say ga, ga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to say something then.  My son cannot help that he has a speech delay.  He tries so hard to express himself, but sometimes no one can understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This child is brilliant though in ways other than speech.  He can spell any word or name after just looking at it for a few minutes.  He can also recognize at least 20 words in the books we read--an early reading skill that few 3 year olds have.  He is so expressive with his gestures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, not a day goes by without the frustration of not being heard.  Hearing that innocent comment made this a bad day for me.  I asked my son if his classmates have been calling him baby, and he nodded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This child takes pride in being a big boy.  Since he was potty-trained (just last month), he has been going around the house calling himself big boy (he can say those words).  He has come so far in the past three months with his speech therapy, but he didn't meet his goals for the year.  And he has just one year until he starts Kindergarten.  What will the year bring?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I cannot protect this child from the remarks.  I know that I will not be able to explain to everyone he meets about his delay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish there was some support group that I could turn to so I could vent.  It seems that there are so many other people who have children that are much more learning disabled.  I should feel grateful that his only "problem" is the speech delay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so desperately want to hear him say, "I love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week or so ago, I read a blog about a mother who bemoaned the fact that "no" and "mine" had entered her child's vocabulary.  Some people would give anything to hear their child(ren) say those words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-9167699482861147907?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/9167699482861147907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=9167699482861147907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/9167699482861147907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/9167699482861147907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2009/06/ouch.html' title='Ouch'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-9064698454423333876</id><published>2009-05-18T19:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T19:34:22.307-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Things</title><content type='html'>1.  I just read a great book called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Order of Things&lt;/span&gt; by Lynne Hinton.  It was about a woman overcoming depression by being able to tell her story.  That sounds about right to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  There is nothing like tickling a baby and hearing his/her laugh.  The sounds of heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  It is wonderful to have another child potty-trained.  I just didn't know how much I would enjoy only having one in diapers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-9064698454423333876?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/9064698454423333876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=9064698454423333876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/9064698454423333876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/9064698454423333876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2009/05/three-things.html' title='Three Things'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6083884782996621904</id><published>2009-05-14T15:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T15:11:38.075-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time No Blog</title><content type='html'>It has been a while since I blogged.  Too much Facebook is the reason.  It is just too easy to post a link or a status update there.  But I have been feeling guilty for my neglect here, so I may find something interesting to say here in the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am doing much better in my personal struggles.  My boys are growing.  My house is still a mess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6083884782996621904?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6083884782996621904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6083884782996621904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6083884782996621904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6083884782996621904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2009/05/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long Time No Blog'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6366156936156631054</id><published>2008-12-30T20:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T20:41:35.133-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CPE'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2008'/><title type='text'>A Semester of Personal Learning</title><content type='html'>Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) is chaplaincy.  I completed my semester of CPE a few weeks ago.  It went beyond resume filler to become a wonderful learning experience for me.  Being with the other interns at the hospital, I had a chance to be something besides a stay-at-home mom.  Also, being able to escape to the hospital for periodic 24 hour on-calls was wonderful.  I loved my time when I was on-call even with all the challenges that such an on-call can be at a trauma hospital. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing I learned though is that I have been in depression for at least 2 years.  Just knowing that has helped me to understand why I have been acting the way I do.  I have been living in something like a fog for a while.  I have been easily distracted, very irritable, and moody. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really thought I was depressed because I assumed that it would come over me fast and be evident.  However, this depression has been slowly clouding my mind and affecting my actions.  This week after Christmas has been really bad as I am able to see that I am not acting in a good way toward my family; I have been so irritable and yelling at the boys for trivial things.  In some ways, I am grieving the end of CPE; I am trying to get back into a stay-at-home mom role that is not so fulfilling for me; and I am trying to live with a husband who is not thankful for anything I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my doctor did prescribe an anti-depressant on the advice of the psychologist I am seeing.  So I am hopeful that my mind will become clear again and the hopelessness I feel now will not always be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being able to admit my depression is a good thing for me.  Putting words to the way I feel is invaluable.  I am hopeful at the end of 2008.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6366156936156631054?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6366156936156631054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6366156936156631054' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6366156936156631054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6366156936156631054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/12/semester-of-personal-learning.html' title='A Semester of Personal Learning'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2541273460498082156</id><published>2008-09-23T22:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T22:53:16.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>CPE</title><content type='html'>I am doing a unit of Clinical Pastoral Education this semester.  I am learning a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not like visiting my area of the hospital because it is difficult for me to be assertive.  I am rather shy.  Why would anyone want to talk to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do like the on-calls though.  I don't mind answering pages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be an interesting semester.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2541273460498082156?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2541273460498082156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2541273460498082156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2541273460498082156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2541273460498082156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/09/cpe.html' title='CPE'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2039896490481396286</id><published>2008-08-28T09:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T09:36:48.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Break</title><content type='html'>I am taking a break from this blog for a while.  My life is going through major crisis right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have another blog that I am posting to in a semi-anonymous way.  I can't control two blogs at once when I am discussing my personal life in both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be back though--I can't give up longing for home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2039896490481396286?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2039896490481396286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2039896490481396286' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2039896490481396286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2039896490481396286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/08/break.html' title='A Break'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5808723224559491266</id><published>2008-08-02T17:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T17:49:25.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New teeth</title><content type='html'>Boy #3 is cutting teeth.  He will not be 3 months until August 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do subsequent babies tend to cut teeth earlier?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone tells me that nursing him is about to get painful.  Nope.  Bottom teeth don't affect nursing because the baby's tongue is between the nipple and the teeth.  It is the top teeth (that come in after the bottom ones) that you have to be wary of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you didn't know that, now you have learned something new about breastfeeding a baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5808723224559491266?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5808723224559491266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5808723224559491266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5808723224559491266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5808723224559491266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-teeth.html' title='New teeth'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-426756245512273231</id><published>2008-07-06T20:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T21:12:47.849-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Imitation</title><content type='html'>My boys have really enjoyed watching the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;High School Musical &lt;/span&gt;movies.  They aren't the audience that Disney intended when they marketed the movies (they are under 6!), but the music keeps them watching.  How bad is it?  We know every word of both movies and all the songs (even the songs that only show up on the DVD).  Part of the blame is that we have a DVD player in our mini-van.  Boy #2 has been watching that DVD player since before his carseat was facing forward (yes, he craned his neck around to see it). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;High School Musical 2&lt;/span&gt;, I will say that the favorite song is one that the main character Troy Bolton sings called "Bet on It."  Troy sings it while walking/running/jumping around a golf course.  And my boys know every walk, run, and jump.  Today, I played the song (just the song) from my laptop,  and I noticed that they were doing all the motions with their hands like Troy.  They would walk or run when he did.  They knew when to throw out their arms, hit the ground, or do a little jump. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 3 year old knows when to do it without looking at his big brother, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we have watched the movie too much--I don't know.  However, it is a good reminder that my sons are going to learn by watching and imitating.  I know I can't always control what they see and learn, but I can control what I do and say.  Sometimes my attitude is less than stellar.  I get tired.  I get cranky.  I speak too quickly.  I overreact. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn't a bad thing for the boys to know I am human.  But I don't want them to imitate my bad qualities all the time.  It is a fine line to walk.  Seeing them act out &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;HSM2&lt;/span&gt; today is just another reminder of this big responsibility I have that goes beyond feeding and clothing my children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-426756245512273231?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/426756245512273231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=426756245512273231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/426756245512273231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/426756245512273231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/07/imitation.html' title='Imitation'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3971965204804229499</id><published>2008-07-05T14:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:48:04.745-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breastfeeding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Pop Ice for Babies</title><content type='html'>My oldest two sons really get a kick out of eating &lt;a href="http://www.jelsert.com/products_popice.asp"&gt;Pop Ices&lt;/a&gt;.  They always run and open our freezer and pick out their favorite color.  My 2nd son likes to choose the same color as his shirt (provided he isn't wearing a white, gray, or black shirt). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys eat the Pop Ices even in winter.  The local grocery store has some store brand that are bigger and have more flavors (ummm, pineapple....). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the baby wanted one, he could have one that I made.  I have about 25 bags of breastmilk in the freezer, too.  What the baby doesn't get to, I will donate to the &lt;a href="http://www.wakemed.org/body.cfm?id=135"&gt;WakeMed Mothers' Milk Bank&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, our local newspaper &lt;a href="http://www.newsobserver.com/news/health_science/story/1109668.html"&gt;ran a story about the milk bank&lt;/a&gt;.  There aren't that many milk banks in the US.  But at the hospital where I delivered my last two boys, there is one.  They recently had a shortage and had to put out a call for the volunteer donors to bring in what they had.  The milk is used for premature infants.  Some of them cannot have formula--the breastmilk is vital for their survival.  No wonder it is called "liquid gold" and goes for $4.50/ounce!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading that article, I immediately called and started the process to be a donor.  I had to answer questions like the ones they ask you when you are going to donate blood.  I also had to realize that drinking caffeine and taking OTC medicine for pain would affect the milk I pumped for 12 hours after those activities.  My caffeine intake concerned me, so I stopped drinking my diet Pepsi with caffeine and switched to caffeine-free diet Pepsi.  I expected severe headaches, but they have not been that bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pumping at least 4 ounces a day to save.  Most days I can get 7 ounces.  After I have 100 ounces, I have the paperwork for my blood to be drawn; and it will be tested.  After I have 200 ounces, I can take my milk to the milk bank. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought when I signed up that I would have to buy more bags to store the milk, but the bank sent me gobs of them.  Since I already owned a breastpump (that has held up remarkably well for the past 5 1/2 years), it really is a no-brainer to sign up to donate.  I find it providential that the article ran when my newborn was 5 weeks old, and my breasts were drowning him at every feeding.  Milk production is something I am apparently very good at. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are nine milk banks in the US and one private milk bank in California.  One-third of the women donating to the WakeMed Milk Bank are local.  The great thing is that the milk bank will send a cooler and shipping instructions to women out of the area.  Once they have 200 to 300 ounces, the milk can be overnighted to Raleigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already give blood when I can.  I am glad that I can also donate breastmilk this year.  Even though I am a SAHM with no income of my own, I can contribute to society in this non-monetary way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3971965204804229499?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3971965204804229499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3971965204804229499' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3971965204804229499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3971965204804229499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/07/pop-ice-for-babies.html' title='Pop Ice for Babies'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-8853850312553051719</id><published>2008-07-04T19:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:46:24.948-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Happy Fourth of July</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sBiCebc-zxU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sBiCebc-zxU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a clip of the Raleigh TV station WRAL in 1989 as it is signing off the air for the night.  The "Star Spangled Banner" and some pictures from the history book are in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday, USA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-8853850312553051719?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/8853850312553051719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=8853850312553051719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8853850312553051719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8853850312553051719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-fourth-of-july.html' title='Happy Fourth of July'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-242903331579049518</id><published>2008-07-03T13:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.397-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Three years ago today....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51004880@N00/2634451114/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3279/2634451114_f25a0a0dba_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51004880@N00/2634451114/"&gt;boy #2 07/03/05&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/51004880@N00/"&gt;wilfhh29&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Here is my second-born three years ago.  It is a good thing I have my pictures labeled because all three of my boys have looked alike at birth (and even into the first year).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I love best about this boy today is his independent spirit and his great facial expression.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;White cake with chocolate icing and three candles on top for my new 3 year old!&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-242903331579049518?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/242903331579049518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=242903331579049518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/242903331579049518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/242903331579049518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/07/three-years-ago-today.html' title='Three years ago today....'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3279/2634451114_f25a0a0dba_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-8820349455482311516</id><published>2008-07-02T10:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T10:58:59.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Click at Your Own Risk</title><content type='html'>Don't click on this link unless you forever want to destroy the way you hear and respond to "Fur Elise." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-2yklZeEbFE&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-2yklZeEbFE&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this commercial that aired when I was about 10 years old, I cannot hear "Fur Elise" by Beethoven without thinking about McDonalds.  I sing the lyrics from the commercial in my head.  It is also quite the earworm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never hear that song again for what it is worth.  I will always crave french fries when I hear it--like this morning off of the Baby Einstein CD that I opened to play for my infant son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will it ever be possible that I will separate the song from the commercial?  I like to enjoy classical music for it's own value.  Isn't it amazing the memories a song can provoke?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-8820349455482311516?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/8820349455482311516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=8820349455482311516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8820349455482311516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8820349455482311516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/07/click-at-your-own-risk.html' title='Click at Your Own Risk'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2428581196090938601</id><published>2008-06-27T13:38:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:45:56.399-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baptist'/><title type='text'>Some woman...somewhere....</title><content type='html'>I read this article from Ethics Daily this morning.  It has some serious implications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ethicsdaily.com/article_detail.cfm?AID=10675"&gt;Southern Baptist Scholar Links Spouse Abuse to Wives' Refusal to Submit to Their Husbands&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but think that some woman somewhere is going to be killed because of this argument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there ever was a time that pastors should be speaking out against domestic violence, that time is now.  With the economy as bad as it is, I predict that DV is on the rise.  I don't have to look beyond our local headlines to see it.  It is especially bad for pregnant women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In regards to the article, the women who hear this toxic message from a pastor and experience DV may end up giving their lives.  The men who hear it and are perpetrators of DV will see it as a biblical right they have to abuse their wives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO woman (or man or child for that matter) deserves to be abused (physically, emotionally, sexually, psychologically, etc.).  This message from this professor is dangerous through and through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2428581196090938601?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2428581196090938601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2428581196090938601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2428581196090938601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2428581196090938601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/06/some-womansomewhere.html' title='Some woman...somewhere....'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7636225020081133843</id><published>2008-06-09T13:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.398-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>A little late, but....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51004880@N00/2564549475/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3165/2564549475_cf1faf8f2a_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51004880@N00/2564549475/"&gt;Andrew&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/51004880@N00/"&gt;wilfhh29&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is #3 when he was only 1 week old.  He is now 4 weeks old (where does that first month go?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a good sleeper.  See how he is concentrating in this picture?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7636225020081133843?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7636225020081133843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7636225020081133843' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7636225020081133843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7636225020081133843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-late-but.html' title='A little late, but....'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3165/2564549475_cf1faf8f2a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2268120462546282149</id><published>2008-05-31T18:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T18:59:02.441-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Breyers Ice Cream</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51004880@N00/2539231257/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3073/2539231257_8ea4d35a28_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/51004880@N00/2539231257/"&gt;OnNotice05312008.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/51004880@N00/"&gt;wilfhh29&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm on to you, Breyers.  I used to be able to buy 2 quarts of ice cream on sale for $2.50.  I thought it was pretty good to find it for $2.99 on sale these days.  But then I see that you are using 1.5 quart containers now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breyers Ice Cream...consider yourself  "on notice"!&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2268120462546282149?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2268120462546282149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2268120462546282149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2268120462546282149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2268120462546282149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/05/breyers-ice-cream.html' title='Breyers Ice Cream'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3073/2539231257_8ea4d35a28_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1582523364697818768</id><published>2008-05-15T01:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.398-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Birth Story of Baby #3</title><content type='html'>It has been a busy week as we have gotten baby #3 started in this world.  It's a boy!  He was  born on Mother's Day at 8:47 AM--coming into this world fast and furious.  I piddled around the house on Sunday and didn't leave for the hospital until 7.  I had decided a few months ago that I would stay at home as long as possible before going to the hospital.  Contractions were 4 minutes apart and lasting 1 minute.  Even we my husband and I arrived at the hospital, I made him park; and I walked in!  The person admitting me fussed at my husband for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I started paying attention to the clock, it was a little after 8.  I had been strapped to the external fetal monitor and the labor pains were coming quick.  The nurse promised that the doctor would be right in, but my husband went to see how long it would be when he noticed how much pain I was in.  Finally, I guess I had made enough noise because a resident came in to check me.  I as at 9 cm already!!  That was the first I had been checked.  It immediately ruled out an epidural--this baby was coming naturally.  I didn't even have time to get an IV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was rolled to the delivery room; and in just a few minutes, I told the nurse there that I needed to push.  Sure enough, I was fully dilated.  At that point, my water broke (I guess my earlier suspicions about my water breaking had really been part of my mucus plug).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the nurse told me not to push.  They had to get the doctor in the room.  I don't think you should tell a pregnant woman that.  It seemed like forever before the doctor came (though it probably wasn't that long), and even he told me not to push (because he was putting his gloves on).  Finally, they let me push (I had been screaming to let me push for several minutes).  Baby #3 was born after just a couple of pushes.  No epidural, no stitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He weighed in at 8 pounds, 12 ounces; and he was 21 1/4 inches long.  His Apgars were 9 and 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to come home after one night in the hospital, but the baby had lost 10 ounces and the pediatrician wouldn't let him go.  I had to stay until Tuesday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are transitioning into being a family of 5 now.  This is quite an adventure.  Hopefully, it will go okay, especially for boy #2.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1582523364697818768?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1582523364697818768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1582523364697818768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1582523364697818768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1582523364697818768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/05/birth-story-of-baby-3.html' title='Birth Story of Baby #3'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-9029779084219515859</id><published>2008-05-11T05:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.398-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day to Me!</title><content type='html'>I am in labor.  Contractions started around 2 AM or so.  My water broke sometime in the 3 hours after that (I was dozing and I don't know exactly when).  Right now, I am still at home and timing.  Everyone else is sleeping.  I'll be waking them in about 15 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had to update my blog first.  It may be a few days before the next update. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your prayers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-9029779084219515859?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/9029779084219515859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=9029779084219515859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/9029779084219515859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/9029779084219515859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day-to-me.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day to Me!'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3489311421726104272</id><published>2008-05-08T23:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.399-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>Ok, child in my womb, you are supposed to be here by now.  Are you going to make me wait even longer to meet you?  I would like to get "Motherhood, part 3" started this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am not very patient after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3489311421726104272?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3489311421726104272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3489311421726104272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3489311421726104272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3489311421726104272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/05/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1578797470658063045</id><published>2008-05-04T14:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.399-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>What?!?</title><content type='html'>What do you mean that I'll have an infant either this week or next week?!?  Didn't I just take the test?  How can 9 months go by that fast?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1578797470658063045?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1578797470658063045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1578797470658063045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1578797470658063045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1578797470658063045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/05/what.html' title='What?!?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2843992736040540753</id><published>2008-04-29T15:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T16:16:11.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes!  I still find time to read!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.barclaypress.com/xcart/customer/product.php?productid=16552"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Saving Women from the Church: How Jesus Mends a Divide&lt;/i&gt; by Susan McLeod-Harrison&lt;/a&gt; is the book that I just finished reading last night.  At just over 200 pages, it is not a long book; but I found it very good in the arguments it makes for gender equality in the evangelical church.  Each chapter has a story about how women are hurt by their congregations.  The stories are fictionalized but are based on true accounts.  Then McLeod-Harrison has a fictionalized version of a story from the bible that helps to address the contemporary story.  After both stories, there is a section entitled "What was Jesus Doing?" where the author addresses what was going on in the culture of the bible story and how Jesus uplifted the woman in the story.  This book set up to be a great book for a bible study class or a devotional guide because each chapter also contains questions and a section for personal reflection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly wish that every woman in all churches can have the opportunity to read a book like this one.  Several of the stories touched near and dear to my heart, and I could feel years of the pain in my own soul pour forth.  I went to divinity school and studied theology before I could deal with how women are treated within my own congregation.  For those who cannot attend graduate school to study theology, this book is an easy to understand guide for them.  And I recommend it to both women and men who want to see how Jesus empowers us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The author is a firm supporter of &lt;a href="http://www.cbeinternational.org/"&gt;Christians for Biblical Equality&lt;/a&gt;.  And their &lt;a href="http://blog.cbeinternational.org/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; featured a &lt;a href="http://blog.cbeinternational.org/?p=187"&gt;review of this book&lt;/a&gt; last month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2843992736040540753?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2843992736040540753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2843992736040540753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2843992736040540753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2843992736040540753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/yes-i-still-find-time-to-read.html' title='Yes!  I still find time to read!'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-314142338998375270</id><published>2008-04-29T15:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:46:24.948-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Early Voting</title><content type='html'>I am glad that several early voting places in my county opened up this week.  I voted in the early voting this morning, taking my 2 1/2 year old with me to the community center.  I was pleased to see that the line wasn't so long.  And I have voted in the NC primary a week early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because with 9 days until  my due date, there is no telling what I'll be doing this time next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-314142338998375270?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/314142338998375270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=314142338998375270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/314142338998375270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/314142338998375270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/early-voting.html' title='Early Voting'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2866582258347051571</id><published>2008-04-28T17:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T17:29:20.137-04:00</updated><title type='text'>VoIP</title><content type='html'>I am a registered Democrat.  My husband is registered as a Republican.  You would think that we would get some telephone calls from candidates about who we should be voting for in the NC primary next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we have VoIP. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we love our VoIP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2866582258347051571?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2866582258347051571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2866582258347051571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2866582258347051571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2866582258347051571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/voip.html' title='VoIP'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-919137125914909642</id><published>2008-04-27T23:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T23:21:43.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Family</title><content type='html'>I don't know why my 5 1/2 year old said this, but today at lunch (at a popular fast food place) he looked at me and said that we are part of God's family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a wonderful thing to remember and treasure.  Today, I am happy to be a part of God's family.  And I am glad my innocent son reminded me of that in between sips of his chocolate milkshake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-919137125914909642?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/919137125914909642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=919137125914909642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/919137125914909642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/919137125914909642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/gods-family.html' title='God&apos;s Family'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7551868421845752837</id><published>2008-04-27T23:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T23:18:49.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow!</title><content type='html'>I was feeling rather sad today.  I don't know why except maybe it is my hormone level changing, and I will be in labor soon (*crosses fingers*).  At 38 weeks and 3 days, that is a possibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost didn't go to my small group meeting tonight.  Until one of the members called and told me there were gifts.  While I do not need anything specifically for baby #3, I was curious about presents.  So I went and stayed for the meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meeting, the group prayed for me.  They did the laying on of hands thing, too.  It was the first time a group had ever done that for me.  And it is making me reflect one word--Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weight of the hands on me as the group prayed for me and my #3 offered me a lot of comfort.  It reminded me of how God is putting protection all around me for this impending delivery.  And no matter what the future may hold, I will trust that my path is known by my God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a good "wow!" experience for today.  And it almost didn't happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7551868421845752837?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7551868421845752837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7551868421845752837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7551868421845752837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7551868421845752837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/wow.html' title='Wow!'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5697171618646598479</id><published>2008-04-09T23:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.399-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Thirty-six weeks</title><content type='html'>I have entered the ninth month of pregnancy.  And my life feels like it is coming apart.  So I'll take it one day at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am beautiful.  I am not lazy.  I am not a loser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a woman's strength for this life.  I will make the most of myself.  I refuse to be blamed for other people's failures and shortcomings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wherever God leads me, that is where I will go.  I will have the courage to make God my priority and go to do the task that God has given me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5697171618646598479?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5697171618646598479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5697171618646598479' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5697171618646598479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5697171618646598479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/thirty-six-weeks.html' title='Thirty-six weeks'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-942009180824204187</id><published>2008-04-02T11:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T11:44:52.679-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Helpful</title><content type='html'>My 2 1/2 year old son is so helpful when I am using my computer printer.  He always rushes to get the paper and hand it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the paper is 12 pages long, the pages sometimes get out of order...and a little wrinkled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-942009180824204187?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/942009180824204187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=942009180824204187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/942009180824204187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/942009180824204187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-helpful.html' title='So Helpful'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3874789295096120994</id><published>2008-04-01T22:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:46:24.949-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='USA'/><title type='text'>Pro-immigration</title><content type='html'>Yes, I support immigration to the United States.  It is a personal thing.  Along the lines of what is said in this video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kIoC5o0LR1M&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kIoC5o0LR1M&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3874789295096120994?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3874789295096120994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3874789295096120994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3874789295096120994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3874789295096120994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/04/pro-immigration.html' title='Pro-immigration'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-703846396306338841</id><published>2008-03-28T10:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:44:49.400-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>First-Born vs. All Others</title><content type='html'>There was an &lt;a href="http://www.newsobserver.com/front/story/1010317.html"&gt;interesting article&lt;/a&gt; in the newspaper this past week about how parents spend more time with first-born children than their later-born siblings.  I concede that is true.  I do my best to spend time with my second-born, but sometimes I have to listen to his older brother read to me or help him with his homework (preschool homework--so nothing too tedious yet). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, with number three child kicking my internal organs all day long, I wonder how much of my time this child will get.  This baby will be carted around as his/her brothers have activities and school to attend.  But there will be individual time for him/her, too.  I think articles like this can make a parent feel guilty, but I have refused to feel that way.  I do the best I can, and that is all I am asked to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is curious to think about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was pregnant with my first son, I had the baby crib and changing table purchased by the time I was 4 months pregnant.  I had everything ready long before he was born--which was good since he was a couple of weeks early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With his brother, I had the crib and baby clothes sorted out by the time I was six months pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I finally got the crib mattress raised and the baby clothes sorted out (but not washed yet) for this new addition.  I am 34 weeks pregnant--8 1/2 months.  And I need to at least buy one pack of newborn diapers, right?  Maybe he/she will need a baby book, too--one that probably will not be written in very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woe to you, second and third borns!  You get gypped, I know.  But at least you will always have that older sibling to imitate and get in trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you also have a mother and father who have been through this before.  They know not to pick you up out of the crib if you aren't crying.  They know feeding cues better.  They are less apt to make mistakes in the early days of no sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happens, I guarantee that this life will be interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-703846396306338841?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/703846396306338841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=703846396306338841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/703846396306338841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/703846396306338841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2008/03/first-born-vs-all-others.html' title='First-Born vs. All Others'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4543390345466238772</id><published>2007-12-02T13:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:43:49.798-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>It is the first Sunday of Advent, so it is the Church New Year today.  So, Happy New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4543390345466238772?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4543390345466238772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4543390345466238772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4543390345466238772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4543390345466238772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7555934795590020414</id><published>2007-11-30T14:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T22:54:52.350-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Angry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.charlotte.com/news/story/379959.html"&gt;This article&lt;/a&gt; in the Charlotte newspaper makes me want to spit nails.  I cannot decide if I am more angry because I am pro-breastfeeding or because I am pro-immigration; but if this is the way we do things in this country, I am definitely not proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Update:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.charlotte.com/local/story/381449.html"&gt;Nursing Mother Reunited with Son&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7555934795590020414?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7555934795590020414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7555934795590020414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7555934795590020414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7555934795590020414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/11/angry.html' title='Angry'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-990971585158303568</id><published>2007-11-14T01:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T01:39:24.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Trimester Absence</title><content type='html'>In mid-August, I started feeling really tired all the time.  I gave at a blood drive about that time, and I remember thinking that all my energy had left me with that pint of blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first Saturday of September I knew the real reason:  I was pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first 13 weeks of this pregnancy, I was nothing.  I was so incredibly tired every single day.  I was ravenously hungry when I was awake.  And at the same time, I was nauseated, too.  Three hour naps every afternoon were the only ways I could escape the hunger and nausea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I resigned from the church I was serving at the end of September.  At that point, with the way I felt, I could not keep up with all the activity that was scheduled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hoped that the nausea would not follow me for six months as it had when I was pregnant with my first child.  I hoped it would not last five months like it did when I was pregnant with my second child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, a week and a half ago, at 13 weeks and 2 days, the nausea vanished.  My energy level rose.  I still need a lot of sleep at night, but I haven't napped in the afternoon for two weeks now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are other pains to deal with though.  I had to find maternity pants to wear when I was only 10 weeks along!  I have a lot of stretching, and it is very uncomfortable when I sleep (even with my body pillow to help). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My due date is May 8.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-990971585158303568?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/990971585158303568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=990971585158303568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/990971585158303568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/990971585158303568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/11/first-trimester-absence.html' title='First Trimester Absence'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5186892806585755976</id><published>2007-08-20T06:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T06:15:51.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Discussion Questions for High School Musical 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is a list of questions that I developed from the movie and used with my youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't seen the movie, there may be some spoiler things here; so read at your own discretion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;From      the very beginning of the movie, there is an anticipation of things to      come (i.e. summer, car, talent show, college, kiss, etc).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What are the good things about      anticipation?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What are the      negatives?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="2" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;High School Musical&lt;/i&gt; hinted that      Sharpay was wealthy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Here we see      the evidence that she is.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How does      Sharpay’s wealth influence her?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How      does it affect her relationships?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="3" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Jesus      told a parable about a wise man and a foolish man building their      houses.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sharpay builds her      performance at the talent show around &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Troy&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;What happens when &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Troy&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;      pulls out of the talent show?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="4" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Does      Sharpay redeem herself by the end of the movie?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="5" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;How      does jealousy play a part in this movie?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="6" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Do you      agree that &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Troy&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;      is a “good guy”?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why or why not?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="7" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;How do      you respond when someone tells you that you are “not one of us”?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="8" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;What      do you do when your friends show you things that they have and you do not      possess?&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="9" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;What      is the “music in you”?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;    &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="10" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;What/Who      is the right foundation for your life?&lt;span style=""&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;How does it affect the way you live?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5186892806585755976?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5186892806585755976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5186892806585755976' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5186892806585755976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5186892806585755976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/08/discussion-questions-for-high-school.html' title='Discussion Questions for High School Musical 2'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7331350121459731020</id><published>2007-08-17T14:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T14:26:45.892-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is the Day</title><content type='html'>High School Musical 2!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sons and I have been waiting for this for quite a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7331350121459731020?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7331350121459731020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7331350121459731020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7331350121459731020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7331350121459731020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/08/today-is-day.html' title='Today is the Day'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6577974509511124019</id><published>2007-08-15T16:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T16:11:53.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And....</title><content type='html'>...we slept in!!  My 4 year old DID NOT want to go to &lt;a href="http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/08/thoughts-at-330-am.html"&gt;an unfamiliar church&lt;/a&gt;.  And the room we stay in at my MIL's house is like a cave anyway because shady trees keep it dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept so good in that room this weekend.  I will not tell you what time we got up because I haven't slept in like that post-children.  Amazing that I could get the boys to sleep just as long without a peep from either of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe that was their grandparents wearing them out and keeping them from napping the whole weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6577974509511124019?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6577974509511124019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6577974509511124019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6577974509511124019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6577974509511124019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/08/and.html' title='And....'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3069934400201908364</id><published>2007-08-06T03:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T03:30:46.564-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts at 3:30 AM</title><content type='html'>This coming weekend, I will be taking the boys to see their grandparents.  All four grandparents live in the same area--within 25 minutes of each other.  So it is easy to see them throughout the days that we are in town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be there on Sunday.  I have been thinking about going to the church where I grew up, the church that my mother still attends.  But what if the preacher decides to rant about women in ministry?  He has been known to rant about Muslims, Catholics, abortionists, etc.  I'm sure women preachers must be on his list, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the preacher were to decide to verbally attack women preachers, what would I do?  Would I laugh at the irony?  Would I get up and leave the service then and there?  Would I scrunch down in my seat and hide?  Would I stand up and shout? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange thoughts to be having at 3:30 AM.  I stayed up too late trying to finish the ironing for this week.  Ironing always gets me to thinking--my best sermon points occur when I am using an iron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do find it strange, however, that a church would teach its girls about God, about the love of Christ, about the call to evangelize; teaching them in Sunday School, in Mission Friends, in GAs, in Acteens only to be surprised when one of those girls decides to take seriously what she has been taught.  I am a product of my upbringing.  If I had never known that country church, I don't know if I would be in ministry today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such irony abounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I will attend that church, another church, or just take the opportunity to sleep in for one Sunday.  Check back sometime next week and find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3069934400201908364?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3069934400201908364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3069934400201908364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3069934400201908364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3069934400201908364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/08/thoughts-at-330-am.html' title='Thoughts at 3:30 AM'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3605614589143541121</id><published>2007-07-18T16:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T16:23:37.875-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Week is Different</title><content type='html'>Today is Wednesday.  It feels like a Friday.  Wednesdays always feel like Fridays nowadays.  It has something to do with working at a church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When everyone else is happy to be off for the weekend, I am gearing up for a long day on Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday is spent on the little tasks that went undone on Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday, my old church is having Vacation Bible School (for 5 consecutive Tuesdays--2 down, 3 to go).  I am still a little involved at that church for the sake of my friendships and for the children I have taught.  On Tuesdays, I am helping with the VBS for now.  I am teaching the bible story...three times...to three very different but all boisterous groups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday night, I teach both the youth and the children.  Usually it is some missions related stuff.  Last week, I had to teach the adult bible study instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Wednesday, it feels like a Friday.  I am ready for two days of downtime.  I use Thursday as my day of rest when I can.  Resting does not include resting from laundry however.  I don't mind doing laundry though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday is the day when everyone says TGIF.  But I have to say, at the end of this (Wednes)day, TGIW.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3605614589143541121?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3605614589143541121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3605614589143541121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3605614589143541121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3605614589143541121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-week-is-different.html' title='My Week is Different'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6398171852270737873</id><published>2007-07-13T23:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T23:38:21.615-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts about Breastfeeding After It has Ended</title><content type='html'>Last Tuesday, July 3rd, my youngest child turned 2.  He is a sweet toddler.  His temperament is wonderful except when he is tired in the late afternoon.  He doesn't communicate with words much yet, but we have a speech therapist who visits once a week for 30 minutes to work with him.  His lack of speech/communication issues is one of the reasons that I was still nursing him up until the day he turned 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.  I breastfed my child until age 2.  There.  I said it.  Draw your own conclusions and then read why I feel compelled to justify this decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His older brother breastfed until he was 21 months.  That was close to 2 years old.  I kept nursing the younger brother because it was the strongest communication we had between us.  I knew exactly how to calm him down and get him to settle down for a nap or for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, why should I feel so guilty admitting it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been pro-breastfeeding.  I am not a breastfeeding Nazi like I used to be when I was nursing my first--I have met far too many women for whom breastfeeding did not work out even though they were desperate for it to work.  But for me, breastfeeding was always the priority.  My boys never tasted a drop of formula.  It was difficult--especially with my first.  All I can say is thank goodness for Lansinoh and the fact that I learned how to nurse my children while laying on the bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is recommended that mothers try to nurse their babies for the first year of life.  The World Health Organization even recommends two years.  My goal for my first was 12 months.  And then I took it month-by-month until I could tell that it was time to stop.  My goal for my youngest was 18 months.  And I stopped last week at his 2nd birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nursing in public has not been an issue with me with the second child.  I kept to dressing rooms and out-of-the-way places with my first, but I was nursing my 3-day old infant in a restaurant without a second thought.  We have nursed at the play area at the mall.  At the circus.  At the zoo.  At church.  At Christmas parties.  Etc.  Yet I did not nurse in public past 12 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surprising fact to me is that I have felt guilty admitting to breastfeeding my toddler.  Especially after 18 months, I never brought up the fact that I was still nursing.  Honestly, I may have thought people would judge me for admitting it.  I do not know of anyone who made it to 2 years (I just haven't met them yet).  But why should I feel this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the early months, breastfeeding is all about nourishment.  In the last months, it is all about comforting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I want to hold on to my memories of this time of my life.  It opens a new understanding of what it means to provide nourishment to someone and, later on, comfort.  It makes me reflect on the image of God as a nursing mother.  A man can never understand that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To nurse, you have to take care of yourself and be willing to provide for another creature.  It means that you have slow down and stop something because your baby needs you.  It forces you to pay attention and read the signs.  As you look at the face of your baby and see the contentment that relaxes him or her to sleep, you see that you have a power in your milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited to see how my toddler will grow.  It is a bittersweet time as I have finished nursing.  At my son's 2 year old checkup yesterday, I sheepishly told my pediatrician that I had nursed until he was 2.  He said, "Good for you!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6398171852270737873?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6398171852270737873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6398171852270737873' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6398171852270737873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6398171852270737873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/07/thoughts-about-breastfeeding-after-it.html' title='Thoughts about Breastfeeding After It has Ended'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-662624395881280352</id><published>2007-07-13T22:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T23:11:51.547-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RevGalBlogPals Friday Five:  Choose your own adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today's F5 is a Choose Your Own Adventure: do the magical version or the Muggle one, or both:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Option 1: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Accio Friday Five!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Which Harry Potter book is your favorite and why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite has been the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Goblet of Fire&lt;/span&gt;.  I don't know why.  I guess it was because I didn't like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Order of the Phoenix&lt;/span&gt; when I read it.  I did like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Half-Blood Prince&lt;/span&gt; though.  And after seeing the movie last night, I am rereading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Phoenix&lt;/span&gt;, so I may end up liking it better than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Which character do you most resemble? Which character would you most like to get to know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Neville the best.  Ever since he stood up to Harry in the first book, I've been interested in him.  I probably resemble him the most, too, as I feel that I am a late bloomer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. How careful are you about spoilers?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a) bring 'em on--even if I know the destination, the journey's still good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;b) eh, I'd rather not know what happens, but I'm not going to commit &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Avada Kedavra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; if someone makes a slip&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;c) I will sequester myself in a geodesic dome to avoid finding anything out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A!  Bring them on.  I love spoilers.  I read ahead in almost every fiction book I pick up.  I love knowing how movies end before I see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Make one prediction/share one hope about book 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I predict that I will cry at some point during that book.  Probably at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Rowling has said she's not planning any prequels or sequels, but are there characters or storylines (past or future) that you would like to see pursued?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A prequel would be great.  We have some glimpses into Harry's parents' lives.  I would like to see the story of his mother and her family.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Option 2:  Please Mommy, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Anything&lt;/span&gt; But Those Blankety-Blank Books!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And we do mean &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Former U.S. First Lady "Lady Bird" Johnson died this week. In honor of her love of the land and the environment, share your favorite flower or wildflower.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite flower is the tulip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/07/10/flying.lawn.chair.ap/index.html"&gt;A man flew almost 200 miles in a lawn chair, held aloft by helium balloons.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Share something zany you'd like to try someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'd like to learn to play the banjo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Do you have an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.apple.com/iphone/"&gt;iPhone&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;? If not, would you want one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I do not have one.  I do not care for one.  My VCast phone (that I inherited from my husband) will do fine until the battery wears out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Speaking of which, Blendtec Blenders put an iPhone in one of their super-duper blenders as part of their &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.willitblend.com/"&gt;"Will It Blend?" series&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;. What would YOU like to see ground up, whizzed up or otherwise pulverized in a blender?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Blendtec Blender--let them see if their own blender will blend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. According to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.newsoftheweird.com/archive/index.html"&gt;News of the Weird&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;, a jury in Weld County, Colo., declined to hold Kathleen Ensz accountable for leaving a flier containing her dog's droppings on the doorstep of U.S. Rep. Marilyn Musgrave, apparently agreeing with Ensz that she was merely exercising free speech. What do you think? Is doggy doo-doo protected by the First Amendment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be protected as free speech, but it is not in good taste.  Surely there were other ways to make a statement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-662624395881280352?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/662624395881280352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=662624395881280352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/662624395881280352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/662624395881280352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/07/revgalblogpals-friday-five-choose-your.html' title='RevGalBlogPals Friday Five:  Choose your own adventure'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1987913733763924372</id><published>2007-07-06T13:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T14:16:59.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RevGalBlogPals Friday Five:  Hasty Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today, what are you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Wearing  &lt;/span&gt;T-shirt and jeans and my new watch I bought for the times I am not carrying my cellphone (Sundays at church when I need to know when to dismiss the youth Sunday School class)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Reading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Splendid-Suns-Khaled-Hosseini/dp/1594489505/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-2451012-4665661?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1183745623&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;A Thousand Splendid Suns&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;by Khaled Hosseini  (I just picked it up at the library at 11:30, and I am already on page 52--I cannot put it down.  It means that it is a good thing that I wrote 95% of my sermon for Sunday already because this book is going to be finished by this time tomorrow!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Eating&lt;/span&gt;  I just at a McDonald's Big Mac.  I know, I know.  But it is fast food friday here at the house after preschool (since the summer preschool session does not do a lunchtime).  On the other hand, the &lt;a href="http://www.happymeal.com/en_US/#Home"&gt;Happy Meal toys&lt;/a&gt; are good ones this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Doing  &lt;/span&gt;Reading my book, thinking about all the responsibilities I have for Sunday (and stressing), thinking of the last few paragraphs I need to write on my sermon, and checking in on my &lt;a href="http://www.neopets.com/"&gt;Neopets&lt;/a&gt; (and my friends who play Neopets and are in my guild).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Pondering&lt;/span&gt;  1.  Why does my little boy not take naps since he turned 2 (on Tuesday)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Are there enough clothes washed and ironed to take my husband through the middle of next week? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  How much sunscreen am I going to need (for my pale self) next Tuesday when I take the youth to the water park?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1987913733763924372?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1987913733763924372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1987913733763924372' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1987913733763924372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1987913733763924372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/07/revgalblogpals-friday-five-hasty.html' title='RevGalBlogPals Friday Five:  Hasty Edition'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-154458587082052388</id><published>2007-06-18T23:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T23:33:22.351-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire up the Grill</title><content type='html'>When I was growing up, my family never grilled out.  My husband's family never grilled out.  So I was very anxious about my husband's determination last year to cook out on July 4th for his co-workers.  One of his co-workers gave him a charcoal grill.  I was very anxious.  I could just see him burning the house down because we didn't know the first thing about grilling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend came over to give my husband a crash course in grilling hamburgers, and the friend was there to watch my husband on July 4th.  Surprisingly, everything turned out well.  My husband even grilled more hamburgers later that month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, on Memorial Day, my husband fired up the grill again.  I had thought that he had forgotten how to grill, but the hamburgers and hot dogs turned out just fine.  He had remembered exactly how to do it whether it is because he never forgets anything or else it was some primal instinct that men seem to possess when it comes to grilling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, for father's day, I bought my husband a couple of steaks.  Steaks are a step up from hamburgers.  We marinated them, and he seasoned them.  My husband grilled them, and they turned out absolutely perfect.  He even grilled some corn on the cob, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never would have guessed that this Chinese man, raised in a Chinese restaurant, who had never cooked more than fried rice under the watchful eye of his dad, would be such a grill master.  He is awesome with the grill, and he is even attempting to teach me how to grill, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I hate to cook, I won't try to learn that quickly.  I do not mind relinquishing the cooking duties to him at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-154458587082052388?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/154458587082052388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=154458587082052388' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/154458587082052388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/154458587082052388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/06/fire-up-grill.html' title='Fire up the Grill'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7314038897744748920</id><published>2007-06-18T23:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T23:22:00.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Else Should I Be?</title><content type='html'>I feel so grateful to be working at a church.  When I stand on the platform to help lead worship each Sunday (for the past two months), I feel so happy.  I know that I am exactly where God wants me to be.  I am doing something I love to do--even if I struggle to find appropriate children's sermons each week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot imagine being anywhere else but helping the people of God worship.  It is very humbling, but at the same time I feel quite empowered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Call to a church was five years in the making.  I have stacks of rejection letters and memories of rejection telephone calls.  But just experiencing the acceptance of my church now, those letters and phone calls don't mean a thing to me anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7314038897744748920?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7314038897744748920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7314038897744748920' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7314038897744748920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7314038897744748920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/06/where-else-should-i-be.html' title='Where Else Should I Be?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-579991407143454187</id><published>2007-06-18T23:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T23:16:52.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>VBS Fun!</title><content type='html'>I had more fun than I thought I would have last week during Vacation Bible School.  We had it from Sunday night to Thursday night; and thankfully, Thursday night was a fun night for the kids with hot dogs and chips and a "Bouncy Castle" for an hour.  My 23 month old saw the castle inflating and started jumping up and down--with both feet never leaving the ground.  He had been in one of them before at the preschool picnic in May, and he remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our VBS was small with about 15 children.  I taught 4-5 grade and had one child--but he is a handful, so I think one-on-one attention suited him well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I think VBS curriculum is too expensive for small VBS programs.  I am very tempted to write my own curriculum for next year.  I had better start on it right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, right.  Let me have a week to recover first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe a few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any event, after 12 years of not being involved with a VBS program, I have returned to the summer ritual of my youth.  Only this time, I am forever leading it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-579991407143454187?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/579991407143454187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=579991407143454187' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/579991407143454187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/579991407143454187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/06/vbs-fun.html' title='VBS Fun!'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-8322986790451781704</id><published>2007-06-12T02:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T03:00:14.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Three words....</title><content type='html'>....Vacation Bible School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too exhausted to post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be back next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-8322986790451781704?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/8322986790451781704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=8322986790451781704' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8322986790451781704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8322986790451781704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/06/three-words.html' title='Three words....'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-8563919835554901566</id><published>2007-05-26T15:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T16:04:18.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sundays</title><content type='html'>My pastor called me on Wednesday morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "Put down your pencil." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to deliver a sermon tomorrow for Pentecost.  Our pastor is away for his son's wedding festivities this weekend.  Leading worship and delivering a sermon was my job for the week.  But issues with the paving of the parking lot arose.  The service has been canceled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems strange to be free of stress this weekend.  The good little church nerd that I am, I cannot help but feel a little guilt that I won't be attending any church at all this weekend.  I was raised by parents who stressed church attendance on Sunday.  When I was growing up, we even found a church to attend when we were on vacation and traveling on Sundays.  So I do feel very strange about missing church and not planning on attending any church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I am in the ministry, so I really should be allowed not to attend from time to time.  My pastor has asked me to give him my vacation days for the next year.  Can I really look at the calendar and say, "I think I'll not attend this day, and this day, and this day..."?  So strange. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing Sunday service does not mean I am missing the Sabbath.  Even though my husband and I have elected to help his sister move tomorrow, I will still take time to rest and remember and pray and think about God.  Then again, maybe it is good to make everyday like a Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a blessed Sunday throughout your week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-8563919835554901566?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/8563919835554901566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=8563919835554901566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8563919835554901566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8563919835554901566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/05/sundays.html' title='Sundays'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4095915144013556623</id><published>2007-05-14T16:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T16:12:04.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank Goodness for...</title><content type='html'>...children's church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boys made me Mother's Day cards during children's church on Sunday.  If it wasn't for children's church, I would get nothing for Mother's Day--the boys are just too small to buy presents yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, this year I got two cards (one from each of my sons).  Last year, I only got one card because ds #2 was too little to make one.  This year, he loves crayons and had no problem scrawling on the card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does not matter about presents or cards really.  What matters is the love that we share day-to-day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4095915144013556623?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4095915144013556623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4095915144013556623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4095915144013556623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4095915144013556623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/05/thank-goodness-for.html' title='Thank Goodness for...'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-7092111171939651382</id><published>2007-05-10T23:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T23:54:54.353-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma</title><content type='html'>My Grandma would have been 98 years old today.  She died on Christmas Eve 2005.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time of year, I often think of my Grandma.  It was on warm, spring days that I would go to her house and pick strawberries.  My family lived next door, so it was often a strawberry-picking day right after I got home from school.  I would get my pan, walk the path to her house through the woods, and pick strawberries for a couple of hours.  Then I would take them home and wash them.  Those strawberries can't compare with the ones you buy from the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandma was always there to talk to me.  We would sit on the porch and discuss nothing really important.  It was the presence that was more important.  And there was always an offer of piece of pie or cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma's house was old, but it was full of memories.  I used to help her quilt.  Her quilt frame hung from the ceiling in her sitting room.  Grandma gave me a thimble that had been hers when she was a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember the smell of the wood stove.  I can feel the rocking chair rock back and forth, back and forth.  I remember teaching myself to cross stitch at her house on a snowy day when my brother and I didn't have school, but my mom had to work.  My brother used to break off the icicles from Grandma's tin roof and melt them on the wood stove. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you, Grandma.  I miss you being around, praying for me, taking an interest in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will see you again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-7092111171939651382?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/7092111171939651382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=7092111171939651382' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7092111171939651382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/7092111171939651382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/05/grandma.html' title='Grandma'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-3287668604634604870</id><published>2007-04-27T15:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T15:53:13.816-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RevGalBlogPals Friday Five:  What are you....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Wearing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T-shirt and jeans (standard clothes for when I am not at church)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Pondering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I can still have strep throat AGAIN!!!  I was diagnosed with it two weeks ago today.  My 10 days of penicillin ended on Sunday.  By Tuesday night, my throat was scratchy again.  I realized yesterday that I had the same exact symptoms that I had two weeks ago.  I went to the walk-in clinic and had the strep confirmed.  Now I am on stronger medication, and it had better go away.  I don't think it would be very fun to have my tonsils removed at age 30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(BTW, my 4 year old son went with me to the dr. yesterday, and I had him looked at, too, because he coughed all day long.  He has tonsillitis.  Just put our house under a 2 month quarantine.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Reading&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reading two books:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jesus Land&lt;/span&gt; by Julia Scheeres and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Plum Lovin'&lt;/span&gt; by Janet Evanovich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have started &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Last Battle &lt;/span&gt;by C.S. Lewis as our bedtime reading book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Dreaming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decorating my office.  I have an office for the first time in my life, but I am terrible at decorating it.  I have lived in my house for 3 years now, and it isn't decorated either.  I guess first I will have to see how much I will use the office, but I would like a place where the youth can hang out after class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Eating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken salad sandwich.  I had no food in my house for lunch.  I ordered groceries online in the late morning.  I picked them up in the afternoon, and I made myself a couple of sandwiches.  I just didn't feel like walking around a grocery store for 50 minutes with two tired boys (who did nap in the car on the way to pick up the groceries).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-3287668604634604870?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/3287668604634604870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=3287668604634604870' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3287668604634604870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/3287668604634604870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/04/revgalblogpals-friday-five-what-are-you.html' title='RevGalBlogPals Friday Five:  What are you....'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1652357542332110301</id><published>2007-04-14T02:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T02:15:05.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking Care of Mama</title><content type='html'>My boys have been sick in the past few weeks.  Ear infection, pneumonia, febrile seizures....I had to go to a doctor 4 times in 6 days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago, I noticed that my throat was sore.  I chalked it up to the pollen in the air.  I've never had allergies; but with the record pollen counts, I figured that if I was ever going to develop an allergy to pollen this was the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have cared for the boys--even taking the youngest for an EEG on Thursday (he was the one with the febrile seizure last week)--I ignored my throat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday night I could ignore it no longer.  I couldn't even swallow.  Plus, I developed a fever, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even want to say it, but I knew what it was.  The doctor at the walk-in clinic confirmed it.  It was strep throat.  Also, it was moving into my ears because there was fluid there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not had strep throat in about 18 years.  When I was younger, I got it every year at least once.  In Kindergarten, I must have had it four times in one winter.  My mother could diagnose strep throat from the smell of my breath--too bad she is 200 miles away--she could have sent me to the doctor before now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, God, for penicillin.  Even after the first dose (and a little sleep), I was feeling a whole lot better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that this Mama needs to remember to take her symptoms of illness more seriously in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1652357542332110301?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1652357542332110301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1652357542332110301' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1652357542332110301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1652357542332110301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/04/taking-care-of-mama.html' title='Taking Care of Mama'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5228327175404704120</id><published>2007-04-13T16:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T16:09:28.012-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Five: Dental Edition</title><content type='html'>RevGalBlogPals Friday Five&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Are you a regular patron of dentists' offices? Or, do you go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a) faithfully, as long as you have insurance, or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;b) every few years or so, whether you need it or not, or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;c) dentist? what is this "dentist" thing you speak of?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, it is A.  My whole family has dental insurance, and I make sure that all of us go to the dentist twice a year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up, my dad had dental for a couple of years.  I went to the dentist between ages 9 and 12.  Thankfully, I had sealants put on my teeth; and I am firmly convinced that they saved my teeth.  I had two cavities growing up.  Later, my wisdom teeth impacted and caused a few more, but I have never had a root canal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After ds #1 was born, I decided to start going back to the dentist (14 years after my last visit at age 12) and also the orthodontist.  My teeth are great now--and I intend to keep them that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Whatever became of your wisdom teeth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;All my wisdom teeth were extracted.  It wasn't that bad.  I had heard so many horror stories, but I had a rather easy time.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Favorite thing to eat that's BAAAAAD for your teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Unpopped or half-popped popcorn kernels.  Also, sugar (esp. in the form of chocolate).&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Ever had oral surgery? Commiserate with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The only oral surgery I have had was to remove my wisdom teeth.  It wasn't that bad for me.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. "I'd rather have a root canal than _________________."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I don't know.  I've never had a root canal.  My dh has had so many of them though, and I don't envy him.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bonus: Does your dentist recommend Trident?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;No, but they do keep trying to push tooth whitening.  I have found the Crest Whitestrips to work fine, so I'll skip the in-office whitening.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5228327175404704120?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5228327175404704120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5228327175404704120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5228327175404704120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5228327175404704120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/04/friday-five-dental-edition.html' title='Friday Five: Dental Edition'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2751495704381249736</id><published>2007-04-01T23:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T23:32:43.941-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was asked to be the lay leader today at church, and I also gave the mission moment about my time at H___ Baptist Church.  Here is what I said during the mission moment:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;H____ Baptist Church is the third church that I have joined.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;The first church I joined was the church of my childhood.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was the church where I learned the stories:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;bible stories, stories about missionaries, and faith stories.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Sunday School teachers nurtured me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Women’s Missionary Union leaders encouraged me to get involved.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I sang in the choir.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I completed mission action projects.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I participated in Christmas plays.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I sat beside my Grandma so many Sundays.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As a young child, I was disruptive sometimes and had to be taken out of the sanctuary during worship.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At age four, I remember thinking to myself that I was a big girl now, and I had to start keeping my eyes closed when prayers were being said.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;The church of my childhood was where I first encountered death.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Beloved leaders of the church passed away—sometimes all too sudden and at a young age.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But it was also a place where I encountered life—true life, eternal life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was in that church that I walked the aisle and gave my heart to Jesus, and I was baptized when I was eight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a place of seeking God’s will for my life as I started to realize that I was being called to do God’s ministry on earth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;The church of my childhood is not perfect.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There have been bitter divisions over the years.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Members have left because of conflict.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;People have been hurt by words and attitudes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But even through it all, this church has been a part of my spiritual journey.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;The second church I joined was the church where I took a stand theologically.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;On a Sunday in June in the year 2000, I joined that church so that my gifts could be affirmed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had begun attending that church ten years ago—just after I married my dh, for it was the church of his childhood.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I later asked if I could complete my internship at that church because somewhere along the line I realized that church members are not supposed to be passive listeners but active participants.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;It was a church that taught me how to listen, how to speak, how to learn within the context of ministry.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The church members offered a lot of feedback and a lot of encouragement.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was licensed to the gospel ministry by that church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The staff became my friends.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was not a perfect church—I have attended deacon’s meetings to attest to that fact.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were discussions about whether to display an American flag outside the church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were discussions about baptism and how it applied to new members who had not been a part of a Baptist church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were your usual dramas and power struggles that go on in any group.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yet I found a church that could understand me and my spiritual journey and support me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I was still a member of that church when I moved to the Triangle.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I thought since I was about to graduate with my Masters of Divinity that I would not change my membership until I was called to that church where I would work.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But that was not to be.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;The third church I joined was H_____ Baptist Church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And it is in this church that I have learned about love and service.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From 2002 to mid-2004, I had not been an active part of any church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We visited a church in Morrisville for a while when we were living near RTP.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But we did not join because I thought I would not be able to stay for long if I was called to a position.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In June 2004, my family moved to north &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Raleigh&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I knew that I would find a church where I could be an active member once my family was settled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Within a month, I had begun attending H_____ Baptist Church.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;It was unlike any church that I had ever attended.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;First, there was a sense of community.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perhaps because the church is so young, the members make visitors feel welcome and seek to engage them in worship and the weekly activities.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Second, there was a sense of acceptance.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was perfectly fine for my then two-year-old ds to make a little noise during worship.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This church supports families of all kinds.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Third, there was a sense of vision.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This church is not a church based on programs and tradition.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is a church that sees needs and works to address them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And it is all about love.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;I am a part of a church that encouraged me to stand and proclaim the good news.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am a part of a church that welcomes my toddler into a Sunday School room and doesn’t mind it when he chooses a loud toy to pick up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am part of a church that offered me care after my second ds was born and after my grandma passed away.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am a part of a church where I can see that members have an investment in the health of the congregation—where they seek to deal with conflict in positive ways and do not create power struggles.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am a part of a church where my biracial children do not have to feel that they are different because we have many races here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am a part of this church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I come here with joy because I know that when I hit that door, I feel the presence of God.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And God’s love for me is present when I am in this place.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is not a perfect church—nothing on this side of heaven is perfect.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is still a lot of growth to come.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There will still be conflicts that arise.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There will always be some who disagree with a theological stand that this church takes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But it is a place where I have found a fellowship of faith, hope, and love.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;H_____ Baptist Church is a place where I can serve God.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since it is a small church and not program driven like older churches, there is an initiative for all members to be involved.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It amazes me to see the members here step into roles of leadership and nurturing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We are a people who are attentive to the Holy Spirit and do not seek to just be fed during worship on Sunday morning.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At least, that is the way I see this community of faith.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;H_____ Baptist Church is the third church I have joined.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;Next week, I will join another church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have been called.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For so long I have waited for God to show me where I would go.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But I admit that in leaving this church, I feel that the call has come too soon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I ask for your prayers and your blessing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thank you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2751495704381249736?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2751495704381249736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2751495704381249736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2751495704381249736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2751495704381249736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/04/saying-goodbye.html' title='Saying Goodbye'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-8780967127021235638</id><published>2007-03-29T23:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T23:45:37.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Book Thief by Markus Zusak</title><content type='html'>I have just finished reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Book Thief&lt;/span&gt; by Markus Zusak.  I think I first heard about this book on some NPR show (Diane Rehm Show?), and I bought it and put it into my to-read pile (that keeps growing, and growing, and...).  The other day I read an article that about young adult fiction, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Book Thief&lt;/span&gt; was one of the bestsellers in that category.  So if the young people like it, I knew that I had to read it soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story is about a young girl named Liesel who lives in Germany during the time just before and during World War II.  Even before the girl knows how to read, she steals a book.  With the help of her foster father, she learns to read.  And she steals more books.  Since the book is set in Germany during WWII, the book also deals with the Nazi Party, the Holocaust, and war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most remarkable thing about the book is that Death narrates the story.  This fact offers some chilling scenes.  There is also a lot of foreshadowing since Death is looking back on this story from the end of Liesel's life.  (The foreshadowing is good for me because I like to know what will happen later on--I often read ahead--I can't help myself!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At around 550 pages, this book would have been considered too lengthy for young adults some years ago.  But if young adults can handle the length Harry Potter tomes, I can see why they are not scared away by the size of books anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do recommend this book to older readers, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-8780967127021235638?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/8780967127021235638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=8780967127021235638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8780967127021235638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8780967127021235638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/03/book-thief-by-markus-zusak.html' title='&lt;i&gt;The Book Thief&lt;/i&gt; by Markus Zusak'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-56320837039147147</id><published>2007-03-26T23:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T23:30:09.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unanimous</title><content type='html'>I was called unanimously to be the Minister to Youth and Children at _____ Baptist Church.  The pastor called me about an hour after my family left the luncheon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will officially begin at the church on Easter Sunday.  The church I currently attend wants the opportunity to acknowledge I have been called and send me out.  I have missed attending my church.  I was out of town last week and at the new church this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while after I begin this new position, I will continue to teach the preschoolers at the former church on Tuesday night.  I will do this to help the children (and me) transition into this new chapter.  Both pastors have agreed that Tuesday nights are my own to do as I see fit.  Maybe it is a big jump going from teaching preschoolers to teaching youth, but I know that the thing that is similar is the relationships that have to be formed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is an exciting time for me.  I can see so much potential for growth at this church to which I am called.  I only hope that I can be attentive to the Holy Spirit and catch the vision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any advice from other ministers is greatly appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-56320837039147147?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/56320837039147147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=56320837039147147' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/56320837039147147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/56320837039147147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/03/unanimous.html' title='Unanimous'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4476477162696959958</id><published>2007-03-23T23:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T23:14:23.967-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday at a New Church</title><content type='html'>On Sunday, I will take my family to a new church.  It will not be like any other new church we have visited because I will participate in the worship service.  I will pray the offertory prayer, and I will read the scripture lesson.  After church, my family will stay for the covered dish luncheon.  After the luncheon, the church will vote on whether to call me to be their minister to youth and children or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say that anxiety is running high? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The position is part-time (like there is such a thing in ministry).  I will not have to put the boys in full-time childcare.  I am not required to keep office hours, but instead I can do much of the preparation at home.  And the church is only about 20 minutes from my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goals are to have relationships with the youth and children and their families.  And to smile more than anyone else at the church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God be with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4476477162696959958?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4476477162696959958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4476477162696959958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4476477162696959958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4476477162696959958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/03/sunday-at-new-church.html' title='Sunday at a New Church'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5084138542304652868</id><published>2007-03-23T22:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T23:04:07.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading</title><content type='html'>I usually have a handful of books around the house that I am currently reading.  It feels much better to actually complete them sometimes though.  I finished one book and read two others today!  Wow!  Just typing that makes it seem like a big accomplishment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Leaving Church&lt;/span&gt; by Barbara Brown Taylor today.  It had been on the bedside table for a few weeks, but I wanted to finish it before the &lt;a href="http://revgalblogpals.blogspot.com/2007/03/revgalbookpals.html"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;RevGalBlogPals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; discuss it on Monday.  It was very good for me to read this just before I am about to start my first ministry position.  Taylor reflects a lot on not defining oneself based on what he/she is doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For God's Sake, Shut Up!&lt;/span&gt; by Brian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kaylor&lt;/span&gt;.  I love the title.  It is only 118 pages, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kaylor&lt;/span&gt; has a good style of writing--lots of examples, lots of stories, and humor.  The subtitle is "Lessons for Christians on How to Speak Effectively and When to Remain Silent."  I doubt that the people who need to read this book will ever pick it up, but it is a good book for a preacher to read and to reflect upon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I got the boys to sleep (by reading chapter fourteen of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Silver Chair&lt;/span&gt; by C.S. Lewis), I saw the book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because of Winn-Dixie&lt;/span&gt; by Kate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DiCamillo&lt;/span&gt; on the bedside table.  I have been meaning to read the book, and I was able to read the entire thing in about thirty minutes.  It has a great message in it.  Now I'll have to go to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Netflix&lt;/span&gt; account and put the movie version in my queue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have often noticed that I read in spurts.  I may not pick up a book for a month, and then suddenly I may read several books in the course of a week.  In the recent past I have finished &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Charity Girl&lt;/span&gt; by Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lowenthal&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Memory Keeper's Daughter&lt;/span&gt; by Kim Edwards (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Memory Keeper's Daughter&lt;/span&gt; is the &lt;a href="http://www.wakegov.com/libraries/readstogether/default.htm"&gt;Wake Reads Together&lt;/a&gt; book for our county this year).  I read it on Monday and Tuesday of this week (I could not put it down). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have lots of books that I hope to read soon.  I buy them faster than I can read.  I have also found that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Interlibrary&lt;/span&gt; Loan (ILL) is wonderful.  I am reading Wendy M. Wright's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seasons of a Family's Life&lt;/span&gt; because of ILL. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder when this reading spurt will end.  I do have a stack of magazines that are piling up....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5084138542304652868?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5084138542304652868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5084138542304652868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5084138542304652868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5084138542304652868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/03/reading.html' title='Reading'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6473809505634694967</id><published>2007-03-07T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T23:22:27.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Call"</title><content type='html'>What's that I hear?  A Call?  A church is interested enough to call me into a ministry position? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that I feel?  Anxious?  Excited?  Overwhelmed because the interview was just this afternoon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I need?  To sleep.  To pray.  To listen for the Holy Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More details will be forthcoming....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6473809505634694967?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6473809505634694967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6473809505634694967' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6473809505634694967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6473809505634694967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/03/call.html' title='&quot;The Call&quot;'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-5014452308519453852</id><published>2007-03-06T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T22:54:26.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Global Warming and the End Times</title><content type='html'>There is an excellent blog post by Tony Cartledge of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Biblical Recorder &lt;/span&gt;that went up today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is called &lt;a href="http://journal.biblicalrecorder.org/br/page/ej?entry=premillenial_warming"&gt;Premillennial Warming&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My own comments about the topic are posted under Cartledge's post.  (I'm the second one to comment.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://journal.biblicalrecorder.org/br/page/ej?entry=premillenial_warming"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-5014452308519453852?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/5014452308519453852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=5014452308519453852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5014452308519453852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/5014452308519453852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/03/global-warming-and-end-times.html' title='Global Warming and the End Times'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-8460011580853542901</id><published>2007-02-20T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T21:47:13.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack Bauer</title><content type='html'>When I was a teenager, I never had a crush on a star from a movie or television show.  I remember many of my friends having those kinds of crushes (even my dh admits to crushing on Alyssa Milano).  It never happened to me in all of my 30 years...until a few weeks ago.  I discovered I had a crush on Jack Bauer from the television show &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;24&lt;/span&gt; (played by actor Kiefer Sutherland).  It isn't a crush on Sutherland--it is a crush on the role he plays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dh started watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;24&lt;/span&gt; a couple of years ago.  Since three of the seasons were out on DVD, my dh watched the entire three seasons in three weekends.  Since then, he has watched the other seasons as that have premiered on television.  Last year, I watched season five with him as it aired because I realized it was something we could do as a couple (since those kinds of things are scarce in these days of raising preschoolers).  I didn't have a crush on Jack Bauer then.  It happened this season.  Precisely, it happened about two weeks ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something about how nicely that gray t-shirt was fitting him as he began interrogating his own brother.  Suddenly, I am looking forward to Monday nights a whole lot more than I thought.  Thank goodness for our DVR this season.  Not only do I not have to rush getting the boys asleep, I can also watch episodes again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dh thinks it is amusing.  He has been vocal in the past about the actresses that he finds attractive.  He has been laughing at my crush since this past weekend.  I am just so silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed that Jack Bauer has quite the Messiah complex--always offering himself as a sacrifice to save other(s).  Gotta love those (potential) martyrs, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how does he keep that t-shirt so clean?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-8460011580853542901?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/8460011580853542901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=8460011580853542901' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8460011580853542901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/8460011580853542901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/02/jack-bauer.html' title='Jack Bauer'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6765393636148949059</id><published>2007-02-16T21:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T21:35:24.078-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flight Delay</title><content type='html'>I am awaiting the arrival of my beloved dh.  He has been away for a week's training for his company.  He flew out Sunday morning, and I flew (driving) to Sunday School to make it in time.  DH was supposed to be here by now (Friday 9:33 PM).  His flight left without him because it was overbooked.  He will try to make it on the next one, but there are fifteen others trying to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was his first flight without family.  I hope he isn't scared.  Maybe since he is 30 he will be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if he will come tonight.  I wonder if the boys will be upset if he doesn't arrive today.  They have been missing him.  I have too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anticipation and anxiety.  I wonder where his bag will end up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6765393636148949059?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6765393636148949059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6765393636148949059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6765393636148949059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6765393636148949059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/02/flight-delay.html' title='Flight Delay'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-1629803425136314511</id><published>2007-01-29T16:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T16:30:28.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He Leadeth Me</title><content type='html'>Philippians 3:13b-14 (TNIV)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But one thing I do:   Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I am in a better frame of mind than last week thanks to a good sermon at church yesterday and a good small group discussion last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"He Leadeth Me, O Blessed Thought"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leadeth me, O blessed thought, O words with heavenly comfort fraught! &lt;br /&gt;Whate'er I do, where'er I be, still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leadeth me, he leadeth me, by his own hand he leadeth me!&lt;br /&gt;His faithful follower I would be, for by his hand he leadeth me.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-1629803425136314511?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/1629803425136314511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=1629803425136314511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1629803425136314511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/1629803425136314511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/01/he-leadeth-me.html' title='He Leadeth Me'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-144426955724354078</id><published>2007-01-25T00:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T00:32:48.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rejection</title><content type='html'>I found a position to apply for last month.  It was an associate preschool minister position.  For once, I was qualified.  I have the experience dealing with preschoolers in our church, and I am getting the education through a certification program over the next few years.  The Baptist State Convention of NC is even having me train to be a Preschool Resource Specialist next week so that I can help train preschool workers and churches in the state. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had two interviews.  I felt really good about both of them.  The last one was Monday night, and I felt like the church would be a perfect fit for me.  They would let me know very soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday morning I get a call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rejection. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They praise my talent and enthusiasm.  They wish me well.  But what is wrong with me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big part of it is that interviewing with a church makes you so vulnerable.  You cannot misrepresent yourself--you have to be open, honest, revealing.  I don't usually bear my heart to complete strangers when I have just met them.  But you have to do that with search committees and personnel committees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is torn open.  I feel naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am angry; I am sad; I am hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't cry because my children will cry.  They don't understand how useless I feel.  As long as I am still there to make them lunch or change a diaper, I have an iota of value.  But I want to be used for ministry.  Isn't that what God has called me to all my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, why do you call me to full-time ministry and never open a door?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Yes, Lord," she replied, "but even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."  Mark 7:28&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;One crumb.  Is it too much to ask?&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-144426955724354078?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/144426955724354078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=144426955724354078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/144426955724354078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/144426955724354078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/01/rejection_25.html' title='Rejection'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-4399641460142211273</id><published>2007-01-21T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T17:48:07.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading the Chronicles of Narnia Aloud</title><content type='html'>If you look over to the right of my posts, you will see that I have been reading the final Chronicle of Narnia to my sons.  We finished &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Last Battle &lt;/span&gt;last night.  I started reading the series to my sons as they were falling asleep after &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe&lt;/span&gt; came out on DVD last year.  My 4 year old watched parts of it with me, and he was interested in hearing me read the story.  I have to say though that most nights I end a chapter with both of them already asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be a while before they can appreciate the stories like I do.  I have read the series every 4-6 months for the past 10 years.  I have read the stories to my boys in the order they were written instead of the chronological order that the publishers use to sell their editions.  That order is:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; Prince Caspian; The Voyage of the Dawn Treader; The Silver Chair; The Horse and His Boy; The Magician's Nephew; &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Last Battle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found throughout the series that I get quite emotional when I read aloud the parts about Aslan coming into Narnia and meeting the children.  I had listened to Focus on the Family Radio Theater's Chronicles of Narnia when I was driving to divinity school and back every week.  That series is great, but I found that I enjoyed reading them aloud much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real kicker was the last half page of the last book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Spoiler:  Don't read on if you don't want to know the conclusion.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That last half page is the one where Aslan tells the children that they do not have to fear being sent back to their own world because they are in Narnia to stay.  A railway accident in the "Shadowlands" (as C.S. Lewis calls this life we live here on this earth) has brought the characters into Aslan's own country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad my sons had already fallen asleep last night by the end of that final chapter.  It would have been difficult to explain why I was crying.  My oldest gets upset at my tears.  Yet just like the title of my blog, I am one who is longing for home.  I want to get to Aslan's own country, too.  And one day I will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at church, we sang two hymns:  "How Great Thou Art" and "Victory in Jesus" (two hymns that I don't have to look at the lyrics to sing).  Both end with a view of heaven.  And I thought about heaven--a heaven shaped by what I had read last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Last Battle&lt;/span&gt; is about the end of Narnia.  It is an end filled with hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aslan brings the children out of our world into Narnia so that by knowing Aslan there, they could know him better in their own world.  I think that I do understand Aslan and Aslan's country a little better because of this series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tonight, I think that we will be starting the series all over again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-4399641460142211273?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/4399641460142211273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=4399641460142211273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4399641460142211273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/4399641460142211273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/01/reading-chronicles-of-narnia-aloud.html' title='Reading the Chronicles of Narnia Aloud'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-654329266083390932</id><published>2007-01-19T11:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T12:07:05.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Women as Professors in SBC Seminaries</title><content type='html'>While I am no longer Southern Baptist, I still have my roots there.  That is why I offer this blog about the removal of a woman from Southwestern Seminary's faculty.  It is on Wade Burleson's weblog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kerussocharis.blogspot.com/2007/01/sheri-klouda-gender-discrimination_17.html"&gt;The story of Sheri Klouda's removal from the SWBTS faculty&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very interested to learn how varied the response has been in this matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-654329266083390932?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/654329266083390932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=654329266083390932' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/654329266083390932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/654329266083390932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/01/women-as-professors-in-sbc-seminaries.html' title='Women as Professors in SBC Seminaries'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6122248390976291091</id><published>2007-01-06T12:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T12:26:20.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Warm Epiphany</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning ready to clean the whole house.  Spring fever has set in because of the mild temperature here today.  It is in the 70s.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it isn't Easter yet!!  It is Epiphany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that I remember the warmth next week when it gets cooler.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the Christmas season is over now, I will take down my Christmas decorations.  I never knew that Christmas lasted 12 days until after I discovered the Christian calendar in graduate school.  Blame it on the baptist upbringing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up, we had to take down the Christmas tree by New Year's Day or it was bad luck.  Most of my friends take their trees down the day after Christmas (or late on Christmas day).  That is good for them because some of them had been enjoying the decorations since just after Halloween!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave my decorations up until Epiphany now.  And just yesterday I remembered that I had two presents stashed away for my boys that I forgot about giving to them at Christmas (blame that on Christmas stress).  Maybe it is time to start a new tradition--giving of gifts on Epiphany.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, wait...I think that has already been done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6122248390976291091?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6122248390976291091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6122248390976291091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6122248390976291091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6122248390976291091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/01/warm-epiphany.html' title='A Warm Epiphany'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-2492551259004328427</id><published>2007-01-01T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T12:57:50.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Scripture for the New Year</title><content type='html'>One of the laypeople at our church preached yesterday.  And she did an excellent job.  The lectionary passage Colossians 3:12-17 was the text.   It is a worthy goal for the new year to live up to Paul's model as found in this passage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Colossians 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;12.  Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;13.  Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone.  Forgive as the Lord forgave you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;14.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;15.  Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.  And be thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;16.  Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;17.  And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our speaker told us to hear this passage as if it were addressed to us.  And that was enough to help me realize that if I could only do half as much as Paul is asking me to do here, I would have a good attitude to start 2007.  I am hoping to keep this passage of scripture before me as my guide this year.  Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-2492551259004328427?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/2492551259004328427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=2492551259004328427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2492551259004328427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/2492551259004328427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2007/01/scripture-for-new-year.html' title='Scripture for the New Year'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-6888194886208646432</id><published>2006-12-19T01:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T01:44:04.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>December 19, 1996</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/134/326908880_2b1b3e86f6.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/134/326908880_2b1b3e86f6.jpg?v=0" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years.  A decade.  A lot can happen in ten years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College education.  Masters education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two houses:  a first house, a better house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two boys.  They look like twins except they are 2 years and 9 months apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One ghost baby:  miscarried at 10 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One person:  job hopping through five jobs before settling in with the last for these past six years.  Now a manager with incredible vision for the direction of the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another person:  struggling to find a place.  Called by God and dissatisfied with anything less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Chinese man.  One Southern, white girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did this happen?  Ten years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An anniversary card from her parents.  Written in it "Happy 10th.  That is a long time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days, it does seem like a long time.  Today, it seems like yesterday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-6888194886208646432?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/6888194886208646432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=6888194886208646432' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6888194886208646432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/6888194886208646432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/12/december-19-1996.html' title='December 19, 1996'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-116501252801256079</id><published>2006-12-01T17:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T01:50:15.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Advent Friday Five</title><content type='html'>Here are five questions about Advent for this first of December:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Do you observe Advent in your church?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we light the wreath every Sunday.  Growing up, however, was a different story.  I didn't know what advent was until I went to college and attended a city church.  I was raised a country baptist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like saying Happy New Year at the beginning of advent though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) How about at home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No advent is observed at home with the exception of the hanging of my Salt of the Earth Christian Seasons Calender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Do you have a favorite Advent text or hymn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy the advent hymn originally written for Easter--Joy to the World the Lord has come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Why is one of the candles in the Advent wreath pink? (You may tell the truth, but I'll like your answer better if it's funny.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor old Mary in a stable surrounded by a bunch of men.  The pink candle is for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) What's the funniest/kitschiest Advent calendar you've ever seen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea.  I haven't been looking for advent calendar, but I do think that I have seen a Dora the Explorer one in years past.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-116501252801256079?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/116501252801256079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=116501252801256079' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116501252801256079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116501252801256079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/12/advent-friday-five.html' title='Advent Friday Five'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-116440828098729275</id><published>2006-11-24T17:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T03:02:06.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Friday Five</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Here are my answers to this week's Friday Five (posted at &lt;a href="http://revgalblogpals.blogspot.com/"&gt;RevGalBlogPals&lt;/a&gt;).  They are about Black Friday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Would you ever/have you ever stood in line for something--tickets, good deals on electronics, Tickle Me Elmo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I have only stood in line to get my son into a neighborhood preschool.  It was a first-come, first-served deal.  It was a 28 degree January morning at 3:30 AM that I became second in line.  And I was 5 months pregnant.  But it worked:  my son is in that preschool, and his brother will have a better chance of getting in because he is a sibling. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As I contemplated my decision to stand in line in the dark in front of the Lutheran preschool, I realized that I would do this for my kids.  I would never do it for anything for myself.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I also realized the value of adult bladder control products.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Do you enjoy shopping as a recreational activity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hate shopping.  I want to get into a store and get out as quickly as possible.  Unless it is a bookstore....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Your favorite place to browse without necessarily buying anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A bookstore!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Gift cards: handy gifts for the loved one who has everything, or cold impersonal symbol of all that is wrong in our culture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It depends on the person.  My dh would rather have a Best Buy giftcard than anything else on Christmas.  But I know others who would never appreciate a giftcard that much.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Discuss the spiritual and theological issues inherent in people coming to blows over a Playstation 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;These people who fight over the PS3 need a little perspective.  Why can't they wait just a few more weeks?  However, sitting outside in the cold for days might at least help them with their perspective on the homeless population.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-116440828098729275?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/116440828098729275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=116440828098729275' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116440828098729275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116440828098729275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/11/black-friday-five.html' title='Black Friday Five'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-116356775550690612</id><published>2006-11-15T00:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T19:15:52.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's Left?</title><content type='html'>Dear North Carolina Baptist State Convention,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just read about the new policy approved today.  The quote from my &lt;a href="http://www.wral.com/news/10320429/detail.html"&gt;news source&lt;/a&gt; says that it "means churches can't support, promote or bless homosexual behavior. If they do, they risk being banned from the Baptist State Convention."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that homosexuality has been addressed, I hope the convention will address other sins in our churches.  Maybe, for example, the sins of sexual abuse, divorce, lying, or gluttony could be addressed.  If you see those going on in a church, then you could kick them out of the convention, too.  Oh, wait a minute...no church would be left in the convention if that were to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But isn't it good to know that the speck of sawdust has been removed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-116356775550690612?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/116356775550690612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=116356775550690612' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116356775550690612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116356775550690612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/11/whos-left.html' title='Who&apos;s Left?'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-116353351955544472</id><published>2006-11-14T14:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T14:45:19.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy Theology</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;One of the women in my mom's group is expecting her second child next month.  She is in that last, long month of pregnancy.  Here is what she said today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;It is obvious God is a man, no woman would decide we&lt;br /&gt;actually needed nine months to make a baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've been in that ninth month a couple of times myself.  I can understand where this theology is coming from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-116353351955544472?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/116353351955544472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=116353351955544472' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116353351955544472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116353351955544472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/11/pregnancy-theology.html' title='Pregnancy Theology'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-116192249884008323</id><published>2006-10-26T23:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T00:14:58.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Youngest Son</title><content type='html'>I cannot help but compare my boys.  Now that my youngest son is 15 months old, I remember that when my oldest son was 15 months, I was in the midst of selling my house.  How did I ever keep it clean for all the realtors who came through?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My youngest is not talking yet.  I think that it has a lot to do with the fact that he has three people in this house that talk for him.  He points and grunts and cries whenever there is something he needs--and I expect that.  But, just like his older brother when he was at this age, I am once again astounded by the fact that this 15 month old toddler knows what I am saying.  He responds to my requests. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell the boy to pick up the toy and put it away.  And he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell him to go and get his shoes.  And he toddles off to bring them to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I asked him where his mouth was, and he put his fingers in his mouth.  I could say that was a teething issue since he is getting about six new teeth right now, but I don't think his response was related to the teeth tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best response is when I lean close to my son and say the word love.  He leans in, sometimes letting his forehead touch mine, and makes a kissing sound. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It won't be long before this son of mine fills the rooms with his constant chatter.  (He already fills it with his squeals.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Time!  How you march through my life! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, help me be conscience of the fact that this boy knows what I say.  Let him learn to love You through my actions and words.  Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-116192249884008323?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/116192249884008323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=116192249884008323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116192249884008323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116192249884008323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/10/youngest-son.html' title='Youngest Son'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-116132439970713101</id><published>2006-10-20T02:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T02:06:39.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep</title><content type='html'>I really should post something.  But I'd rather sleep....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the days get shorter and the weather turns cooler, I can think of no better place to be than in the bed asleep.  Let the dreams come as I stay warm under my quilt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, having a 4 year old boy and a teething 15 month old makes me long for sleep, too.  They are so active during the day--and I do my part trying to fill their days with trips to the zoo, state fair, the mall, etc.--that I want to sleep when they sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why am I still up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;am&lt;br /&gt;going&lt;br /&gt;to&lt;br /&gt;bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-116132439970713101?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/116132439970713101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=116132439970713101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116132439970713101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/116132439970713101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/10/sleep.html' title='Sleep'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115999895591209293</id><published>2006-10-04T17:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T19:08:25.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradise</title><content type='html'>It is heartbreaking to read about this latest school shooting in Pennsylvania.  I read that the news reports come from a town called Paradise.  It seems like such an oxymoron--definitely not a Paradise for the families living there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I read this quote off of &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/10/04/amish.shooting/index.html"&gt;CNN.com&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sam Stoltzfus, 63, an Amish woodworker who lives a few miles away from the shooting scene, said, "A funeral to us is a much more important thing than the day of birth because we believe in the hereafter. The children are better off than their survivors."&lt;/p&gt;Then I realize that the children who were killed are really in Paradise now--the real Paradise--where everything is more vivid and truer than here on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And something about the Amish in that town also reminds me of a Paradise.  Maybe it is about how Jesus taught us to love one another--enemies included.  I guess it is the kingdom of God and all that.  The Amish community is actually reaching out to the shooter's family.  From a &lt;a href="http://preacherbloggerorprocrastinator.blogspot.com/2006/10/affirming-flame.html"&gt;friend's post&lt;/a&gt; I read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Two funds have been set up by Old Order Amish. They are both through the Coatesville Savings at 1028 Georgetown Road, Paradise, PA 17503. One fund is the "Nickles Mines Children's Fund." The other is the "Roberts Family Fund, for Children of the Roberts Family."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Wow.  It is something to preach the kingdom of God.  It is quite another to actually live it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God comfort these families as we continue to remember them in our prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Note:  I know that Sam Stoltzfus' quote encompassed more than I included here.  There is an indication in the rest of the quote that these events were in God's will.  That part of the quote is bad theology, in my opinion.  I do not blame God for these events.  However, I do believe that there is some value in recognizing that when life ends on earth, it is not the end.  So thank you for your patience with my spiritual reflection as it is developing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115999895591209293?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115999895591209293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115999895591209293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115999895591209293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115999895591209293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/10/paradise.html' title='Paradise'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115982151166223391</id><published>2006-10-02T16:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T16:38:31.696-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Planting Verses</title><content type='html'>This morning, my 3 year old son was watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Curious George &lt;/span&gt;on our local PBS station.  In the episode, George learns that an oak tree will grow when an acorn is planted.  When the man in the yellow hat leaves George alone for a while (as he always seems to do at some point in the show), George wonders what else can be planted.  He sees a rubber band and imagines it growing into an inner tube for him to use for floating in the pool.  George sees a peacock feather and imagines that it will grow into a peacock.  Soon, George is running around his house finding things to plant.  He even takes a speech that the man with the yellow hat is working on and imagines how wonderful it will be when a  complete speech grows from the few words that are on the paper.  George plants the draft of the speech, and he gets in trouble for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The episode makes me wonder if I can plant a memory verse or a lectionary passage and have a complete sermon grow--a sermon full of wonderful illustrations, deep insight, and a spirit-filled message.  Why, I wouldn't even have to go to the &lt;a href="http://revgalblogpals.blogspot.com/"&gt;RevGalBlogPals'&lt;/a&gt; 11th-hour preacher party on Saturdays before I preach (except to brag that my sermon is finished). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, we can't plant a verse in the ground and expect the word of God to grow from it.  But we can plant a verse in our hearts and minds.  In fact, I think the Bible happens to say something about hiding God's word in our hearts.  It makes me suspect that knowing God's word will grow a sermon in our own hearts.  Of course, we must water that holy word with prayer, fellowship, love, etc.  Maybe then we can even see the spiritual reflection that a kids' show on PBS can bring our way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115982151166223391?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115982151166223391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115982151166223391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115982151166223391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115982151166223391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/10/planting-verses.html' title='Planting Verses'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115896786083682362</id><published>2006-09-22T19:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T22:49:25.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Blog</title><content type='html'>I have created a new blog for my sermons.  This is because I have really enjoyed sharing the sermon I preached on Sunday, and I have received a lot of good feedback about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new blog is &lt;a href="http://wilofohehosermons.blogspot.com"&gt;Sermons From One Who is Longing for Home&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115896786083682362?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115896786083682362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115896786083682362' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115896786083682362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115896786083682362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-new-blog.html' title='My New Blog'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115847215148820632</id><published>2006-09-17T01:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T08:30:46.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kingdom of God ala Disney</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This blog entry is from part of a sermon I preached on James 3:1-12.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I think Jesus went about this earth trying to let people know what heaven was like.  Something about the kingdom of God maybe.  It actually reminds me of a movie.  It is one that your teenagers and pre-teens know about.  And even my three-year-old ds knows about this one.  I have a dvd player in my car to keep my ds occupied—and boy, does it ever work.  My ds’s favorite movie right now is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;High School Musical&lt;/span&gt;, and I have listened to it over and over as I drive him around town: to school, to soccer, to church.  So if you happen to see me in my mini-van, driving around and singing (and maybe even dancing a little) please know that I am not possessed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;High School Musical&lt;/span&gt; is a made-for-tv movie whose main audience is teenagers and tweens (or pre-teens).  It is a musical, so there is dancing and singing—and a message.  You see, the movie is about Troy, the basketball star, and Gabriella, the science genius.  They are from separate worlds, separate cliques, but they find a common bond in singing.  Their classmates get more and more anxious about the blurring of lines and the threat to the status quo of the school.  In the climax of the movie, Troy is confronted by his basketball team.  They trick him into saying that Gabriella means nothing and the singing is just a way to keep his nerves down before the big championship game.  And Gabriella’s science friends show her through streaming video what Troy has said.  See how much trouble came from Troy’s tongue?  Of course, it is a Disney movie, so the ending is a happy one.  Troy asks for forgiveness, and Troy and Gabriella do sing in the audition.  The whole school, from basketball jocks to science geeks, from skater dudes to drama queens—everyone realizes that they are a part of the school, and they are all in this world together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is where something reminds me about the kingdom of God.  Jesus came to a world full of cliques.  The Pharisees thought they were the most devout.  The Zealots thought they were the most passionate.  The rich ruled over the poor.  The Romans dwelled in the land.  And in the face of it all, a carpenter walked among them and taught them about the kingdom of God.  It is a place of unity for us.  Paul told the Ephesians to “make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” (4:3 TNIV).  That same unity will ensure that we have blessings instead of cursings, fresh water instead of salt water, love instead of hate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115847215148820632?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115847215148820632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115847215148820632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115847215148820632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115847215148820632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/kingdom-of-god-ala-disney.html' title='Kingdom of God ala Disney'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115820168811258108</id><published>2006-09-13T22:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T19:51:55.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith Questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The other thing that made me want to blog concerned something our guest speaker said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guest speaker on Sunday gave part of his testimony.  He made sure to say that he had been brought up in church, but there was a moment that he knew that he was saved.  He went on to say that we should examine our own lives to make sure that we could pinpoint the moment that we were saved.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a real problem with this idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was brought up in the church.  I publicly accepted Christ at age eight.  I see my conversion experience as more of a spiritual journey than a Pauline conversion experience (remember the road to Damascus?).  When I was about twelve years old, a revival speaker scared me so much with this idea of "knowing the exact moment or you are not saved" that I publicly accepted Christ for the second time and asked to be rebaptized.  But that second baptism was a mistake.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An eight year old accepts as an eight year old knows how.  And I am confident that I was saved at eight.  The fear that the revival speaker placed in my heart was something else.  It was meant for that person that was never saved.  This idea of knowing the moment you are saved went hand in hand with something else that was said that night--you had to know without a doubt that you were saved.  Now doesn't that notion make me laugh these days?  There is no one who does not doubt at some point in their life.  Even Mother Teresa had her doubts.  A statement like that, to impressionable girls of twelve years (as my friend and I were that age), to girls who are trying to be the devout followers of Christ...let me just say that it was poison to our souls.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is able to analyze our faith and decide if it is genuine?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I had some disagreements with what happened in our worship service last Sunday.  As I prepare and deliver the sermon this coming Sunday (our pastor is on vacation), let me be conscience of my words and true to the message of Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115820168811258108?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115820168811258108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115820168811258108' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115820168811258108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115820168811258108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/faith-questions.html' title='Faith Questions'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115820066879317733</id><published>2006-09-13T21:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T15:41:46.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Separation of Church and State</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;There were two things that happened at church on Sunday that made me want to blog.  The first of these things has to do with a baptist principle that I hold dear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because it was the Sunday before the fifth anniversary of 9/11, the special that the choir sang was called "Song for the Unsung Hero".  During part of the song, the worship leader asked the congregation to stand and sing "America the Beautiful".  I did not stand; I did not sing.  I do not sing patriotic songs during worship service.  It is because I discovered an historic baptist principle called Separation of Church and State.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think anyone took notice of my protest.  I was sitting in the back, and my son had crawled up in my lap.  But it was the principle of the thing that made me remain seated and silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in divinity school, the idea behind separation of church and state finally made sense to me.  It was because I was studying baptist principles.  Growing up, I would have not had a problem with singing a patriotic song during worship.  Our Vacation Bible Schools always included the pledge of allegiance to the flag.  However, the feeling I get singing patriotic music is similar to the feeling I get when worshiping God.  It is just a little too similar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo and behold, come to find out, baptists are the reason that Thomas Jefferson wrote the letter that contained the phrase "separation of church and state."  Looking at the history of countries in Europe during and after the Reformation, there is a real sense why things seem so much better when church and state are in separate spheres.  I believe that there is a great thing when a country is not going to require you to worship a certain way or pay a special tax if you decide to do your own thing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not force my beliefs on anyone.  That doesn't mean that I don't try to evangelize--it just means that I want my actions to speak louder than any display of the Ten Commandments (and I can name them all, thank you).  I want my Muslim friend to not be forced to pray a prayer that she does not believe.  I want my sons to grow up in a country where they can have Christian beliefs written on their hearts--beliefs that are taught by the church, my husband, and myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a lot to this issue.  But for myself, I am not going to sing patriotic songs in church.  Some things are just too sacred to be confused with nationalism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115820066879317733?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115820066879317733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115820066879317733' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115820066879317733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115820066879317733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/separation-of-church-and-state.html' title='Separation of Church and State'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115795094285508139</id><published>2006-09-11T00:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T18:14:53.973-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Five Years Ago</title><content type='html'>No one is really interested in where I was five years ago.  My story is not particularly impressive, but I want to share it anyway as my way of remembering 9/11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in divinity school, and I had class on that day.  But first I had to go to a staff meeting at the church where I was doing my internship.  When I got up and started to get ready, I was listening to the radio and heard that apparently there had been an airplane that crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings.  I was living with my in-laws at the time, and they do not own a television set.  So in my mind's eye, I pictured a small plane that had made an error and flown into the building because the radio dj did not elaborate on anything at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got out of the shower a few minutes later, I heard about the second airplane, and I only thought of one word--terrorists.  I was on my way to the church when I heard about the Pentagon.  And I forget exactly where I was when the news about the Pennsylvania plane crash reached my ears.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During staff meeting, it was obvious that the pastor did not fully comprehend the magnitude of what had happened.  He had not seen the images at that time.  I hadn't either, but I knew that things were pretty scary anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After staff meeting, our full-time organist and myself went to the youth room where there was a television.  When the picture of the World Trade Center came on the screen, we noticed that there was only one building instead of two.  It was absolutely incomprehensible.  We could not imagine or even begin to imagine how many people would have been in that building when it collapsed.  And as we watched, the other tower came down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were the only images I had of the events of 9/11 until after I received my copy of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Time &lt;/span&gt;later that week.  No television at home, I had to rely on the radio that day.  I never saw the constant replays of the events or even the footage of the plane hitting the second building.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my husband after I returned home.  He was 200 miles away because we were living apart as I went to school and did my last semester of intenship.  I really wished I could have been with him that day.  I called his parents at the restaurant they owned, but they could not fully comprehend the events of that day no matter how my husband or myself told them.  They would finally know the scope of 9/11 about three days later because that is when their Chinese language newspaper came in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished up my reading reflection for that day's class.  I took my mom out to lunch because her birthday had been the day before, and we often went to lunch on Tuesdays that semester.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At school, people crowded around the television in the lounge.  Discussions about the response to the day's events took up all the time in my seminar class.  I told my classmates to make sure they at least wrote a journal entry for that day.  But what I remember the most is the absolutely perfect weather that we had.  It was one of those days in September in North Carolina where the weather remembers that autumn is not too far away.  The humidity is low, and the sky is so incredibly blue.  And as I looked up, I knew it would stay blue--no airplanes in that sky.  It was ironic to think that such a sky was actually threatening to America on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, as I lay alone in bed, I listened to the radio.  Such unity I had never heard in the response of Congress and other people who were interviewed.  I knew that one day I would be telling my own children about that day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my greatest concerns was about my friends.  When I realized that terrorists had targeted the United States that morning, my first prayer was for it not to be anyone Chinese.  I knew the fallout would be great against whatever race of people that was involved, and I did not want my own family to suffer persecution.  After the race of people was determined to be middle eastern, I feared for my friends.  One of my friends--a Palastinian Christian--was harrassed that day.  She feared for her life.  Another friend of Moroccan origin, was afraid too (and even after these five years, she is afraid to admit that she is from Morocco).  It was heartbreaking to hear of the violent response that some people committed because of their fear in the days following 9/11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday night, at prayer meeting, our pastor had fully grasped the events of the preceding day.  He sang a song for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.&lt;br /&gt;Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.&lt;br /&gt;Leave to thy God to order and provide;&lt;br /&gt;In every change, He faithful will remain.&lt;br /&gt;Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend&lt;br /&gt;Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake&lt;br /&gt;To guide the future, as He has the past.&lt;br /&gt;Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;&lt;br /&gt;All now mysterious shall be bright at last.&lt;br /&gt;Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know&lt;br /&gt;His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on&lt;br /&gt;When we shall be forever with the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,&lt;br /&gt;Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.&lt;br /&gt;Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past&lt;br /&gt;All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be Still, My Soul"&lt;br /&gt;by Katharina A. von Schlegel&lt;br /&gt;trans. Jane L. Borthwick&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115795094285508139?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115795094285508139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115795094285508139' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115795094285508139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115795094285508139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/five-years-ago.html' title='Five Years Ago'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115774869591531650</id><published>2006-09-08T16:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T11:23:37.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairly Simple Friday Five</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Name five things you have enjoyed this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I attended the first worship service for a new church that started on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. On Thursday, both of my kids took naps and were not in cranky moods by the evening.  That left me with a peaceful evening (in which I did not have to resort to tears myself).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Wonderful comments have been left for my blog postings.  I like comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My oldest son takes his lunch to preschool this year, and he eats all the food I pack.  It has been good to get him back on a school routine this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My youngest son started Kindermusik again today.  It is great to have that one-on-one time with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus:  A good thing coming up this weekend is my SIL is returning from a medical trip to Nicaragua.  I always enjoy seeing her, and I get to see her when she comes home late Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115774869591531650?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115774869591531650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115774869591531650' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115774869591531650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115774869591531650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/fairly-simple-friday-five.html' title='Fairly Simple Friday Five'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115758037169503097</id><published>2006-09-06T17:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T11:25:28.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Meal Toys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3496/2091/1600/ronaldmchummer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3496/2091/320/ronaldmchummer.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to &lt;a href="http://www.ronaldmchummer.com/"&gt;some people&lt;/a&gt;, putting Hummers in Happy Meal toys is a bad idea.  I think it is worse to make the parent choose between the boy Happy Meal and girl Happy Meal.  My son never wants the boy Happy Meal anyway.  As we go through the drive-thru and order, he pitches a fit from the back seat, screaming, "I want the girl toy!!"  So we didn't end up with any of the Hummers.  Instead, both my sons have been playing with the Polly Pocket Happy Meals.  I liked them better, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the Hummer/Polly Pockets Happy Meals were last month.  Now the Happy Meals feature &lt;a href="http://www.happymeal.com/mario/"&gt;Super Mario&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I'm waiting for Neopets to be in the Happy Meal again because I am such a Neopets addict.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115758037169503097?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115758037169503097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115758037169503097' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115758037169503097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115758037169503097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/happy-meal-toys.html' title='Happy Meal Toys'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20760205.post-115743056923806717</id><published>2006-09-05T00:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T11:26:20.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Church</title><content type='html'>On Sunday, I attended a brand new church.  One of the members of my church has been led to start a church in another section of our county.  She heard &lt;a href="http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-testimony.html"&gt;my testimony&lt;/a&gt; and asked me to share my story.  So I went to that first service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met on a corner of a basketball court in a community center.  There were about 20 there.  And God was there, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20760205-115743056923806717?l=wilofoheho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/feeds/115743056923806717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20760205&amp;postID=115743056923806717' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115743056923806717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20760205/posts/default/115743056923806717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilofoheho.blogspot.com/2006/09/new-church.html' title='New Church'/><author><name>A. Lin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04461571149437568776</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Deh0JNqjBPA/SbaclPVRaFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Gqckhs1xGkU/S220/IMG_4962RWeb.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
