<?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-31773343</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:57:50.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith, Hope and Love</title><subtitle type='html'>But the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-116390384207308595</id><published>2006-11-18T21:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T13:30:27.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You For All the Great Recipes!</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted much but I have been faithfully reading my favorite blogs. My family truly thanks you for all the new recipes!  I am a baker at heart so cooking isn't my cup of tea.  I really need a good recipe to get me through (with very specific directions, I might add). My family has simple tastes so I have appreciated the sloppy joe, roast and bbq rib recipes as well as the breakfast burrito recipe. I also like the addition of frosting added to the molasses cookies, maybe the butter cream recipe recently posted?  I am feeling more confident in the kitchen with all these great tips.  And my hubby and kids are actually asking for seconds - which is a first!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my first Thanksgiving dinner the first year we were married and moved out to Denver, CO. We had invited friends from work to come share the day with us. Being 1200 miles from home I was calling my family to learn how to prepare the dishes. Over the phone, my sister told me how to make mashed potatoes and I followed her specific directions. We later learned that she left out a major step when I called her back and said the potatoes are still rock hard after the length of time she said to cook them. She asked how small I cut them up and I said 'Cut them up? You never mentioned that'. As a child I remembered my Grandma getting up at 5 am to get the turkey roasting so this is what I did, too. Little did I remember that we ate Thanksgiving dinner at noon so we could eat the left overs for dinner. Our guests were arriving that day at 3:00 for dinner. The turkey was done at 11:00 am and the potatoes at 4:00 pm.  That was the only Thanksgiving dinner I've ever made and find it is well worth the 200 mile trip we now take to visit our family where everything is done on time. Funny how my husband agrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also find it odd that when I offer to bring something to the gathering everyone says 'Oh, that's ok, you don't need to bring anything'. I'm going to start impressing them with these fantastic recipes you are all sharing. Keep up the good work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-116390384207308595?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/116390384207308595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=116390384207308595&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/116390384207308595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/116390384207308595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/11/thank-you-for-all-great-recipes.html' title='Thank You For All the Great Recipes!'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115813391306164499</id><published>2006-09-13T03:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T13:13:56.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Met My Honey</title><content type='html'>Well, Barb, at &lt;a href="http://www.anewchelseamorning.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Chelsea Morning &lt;/a&gt;has asked us to post a story of how we met our soul mate. Whenever I'm given the opportunity to share about the love of my life I don't hesitate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was all of 16 years old and a junior in a high school of 1500 kids. I barely new everyone in my class but I did notice a new kid with a letterman jacket walking down the hall. He had a flat top hair cut so my first thought was, 'he must be in the Army' but then I realized, if he were, he wouldn't be walking down the hallway in a letterman jacket. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty athletic and always enjoyed playing drop in volleyball. My friends and I played regularily and one week my friend said her boyfriend would like to come. And he'd like to bring a friend. Who happened to be the boy I saw walking down the hall. I was all clumsy and couldn't concentrate on the game between glancing at this boy, who was a senior, who had pretty blue eyes, and the nicest smile, and played hockey. He seemed genuine right from the start. We said goodnight when the game was done and my heart raced all the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked at McDonald's and he worked at a car wash. It was customary for the car wash to gather a breakfast order on Saturday mornings and send an employee to get the food. Well, that Saturday I happened to be working the morning shift and he was the lucky one they sent. (I later learned that he had asked if he could go, knowing I'd be there) He sat in a corner booth while I gathered his order and I felt his eyes on me the entire time. Which, of course, made me all clumsy again. He must have thought I was a real catch at this point. Especially in my brown, polyester McDonald's uniform!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was there waiting for me by my car at the end of my shift. He asked me out and of course I said yes. We went to a movie and afterwards to his house for his little brother's birthday party. He had a big, loud family which was opposite of what I was used to. It was a good thing. We became inseperable and enjoyed many of the same things. After a few weeks of dating he even sold his bow-n-arrow to buy me a necklace. That's how crazy in love he was. After 3 months we both knew we were going to marry but waited until I graduated to become engaged. Our wedding day and honeymoon were perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the start of a strong and loving relationship. I constantly thank God for bringing us together and for having the love of my life right by my side. It's nothing I take for granted. We have grown up together in so many ways. We've experienced the good, the bad and the ugly. The bond we share is strong and deep. Something I can always depend on, which in my book, is worth more than anything else in this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115813391306164499?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115813391306164499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115813391306164499&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115813391306164499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115813391306164499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-i-met-my-honey.html' title='How I Met My Honey'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115582772748367932</id><published>2006-08-17T11:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T11:18:17.753-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Thursday Thirteen!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7348/3461/1600/Thursday%2013%20Beach%20Sunset.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7348/3461/320/Thursday%2013%20Beach%20Sunset.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen Things I Love About My Husband…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. We are connected to the depths of our soul. When one of us is sad, we’re both sad. When one of us is joyful, we’re both joyful. Made for one another, I'd say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. He loves me and appreciates me more than anything in this world and shows me that he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. He is my earthly protector, provider and best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. He is genuine, sincere and honest. People like that about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Our relationship has grown stronger than I ever imagined it could have. All those hills and valleys we’ve walked together over 20 years have had their effect! They have also strengthened our faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. He is as adventurous as I am. We both like to take risks every now and then. It keeps us young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. He is a wonderful father devoted to his kids. I thank God every day that he is my children’s role model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. He is the most patient person I know. Maybe enough for both of us - which is a good thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. We have the same values and expectations for our family. He has worked very hard which allows me to stay home with the kids ever since our firstborn. There have been many times financial struggles made this nearly impossible but he’s been determined to make it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. He knows I feel connected through touch and doesn’t mind giving extra long hugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. He’s always supportive of me no matter how crazy my idea may be (and believe me, they can get pretty crazy!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. He is growing wise. He has learned so much from our experiences in life and it shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. He knows when it’s best to just hold me and let me cry instead of saying anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, what’s not to love about this man?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115582772748367932?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115582772748367932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115582772748367932&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115582772748367932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115582772748367932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-first-thursday-thirteen.html' title='My First Thursday Thirteen!'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115566583937818013</id><published>2006-08-15T14:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T14:33:01.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fight with my sewing machine</title><content type='html'>So I was going to sew a pair of my son's shorts that needed mending. I dust off the sewing machine about 3 times a year. (At least once when my mom visits so she can help me with a project. Even if she forgets to take the pins out of the blankets she made the boys for Christmas... She's a wonderful seamstress and I've learned a lot from her :0)  After I get all the straight pins in place on the repair I'm ready to go. My machine thinks otherwise. I explained to it that today was not a good day to mess with me so it better cooperate. It refused. The bobbin thing kept screwing up and eventually jammed up and broke my needle. The only needle I had. It got ugly. The kids hid outside and later asked if it was safe to come in. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story... leave the sewing machine alone during PMS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115566583937818013?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115566583937818013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115566583937818013&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115566583937818013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115566583937818013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/fight-with-my-sewing-machine.html' title='Fight with my sewing machine'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115526385421107271</id><published>2006-08-10T22:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T22:37:34.220-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that make you go...  hmmm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7348/3461/1600/100_1893.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7348/3461/320/100_1893.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115526385421107271?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115526385421107271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115526385421107271&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115526385421107271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115526385421107271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/things-that-make-you-go-hmmm.html' title='Things that make you go...  hmmm'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115515548801090807</id><published>2006-08-09T16:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T16:31:28.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting to Know Me</title><content type='html'>I am....  loved by the dearest man in the world!&lt;br /&gt;I want.... to feel contentment.&lt;br /&gt;I wish..... I had more to give.&lt;br /&gt;I hate.... selfishness.&lt;br /&gt;I miss..... seeing my family more often.&lt;br /&gt;I hear..... kiddos having fun on the trampoline.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder.... if I’m on the right path for God’s plan in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I regret..... not going away to college and experiencing dorm life.&lt;br /&gt;I am not.... perfect. (shocker, huh?!)&lt;br /&gt;I dance.... with my husband as we pass in the hallway after the kids are in bed.&lt;br /&gt;I sing.... loudly in the car when I’m by myself.&lt;br /&gt;I cry..... at the drop of a hat.&lt;br /&gt;I am not always..... as organized as people think.&lt;br /&gt;I make..... our home a comfortable place to be.&lt;br /&gt;I write..... in my prayer journal every morning.&lt;br /&gt;I confuse..... God’s will with my own.&lt;br /&gt;I need..... to have resolution to conflict before I can sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;I should...... be doing 10 other things rather than writing on this blog!&lt;br /&gt;I start....... conversations when others don’t.&lt;br /&gt;I finish...... to do lists regularly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115515548801090807?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115515548801090807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115515548801090807&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115515548801090807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115515548801090807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/getting-to-know-me.html' title='Getting to Know Me'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115505639734343022</id><published>2006-08-08T12:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T12:59:57.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Many thanks!</title><content type='html'>I want to thank &lt;a href="http://anewchelseamorning.blogspot.com"&gt;Barb&lt;/a&gt; for helping me set up my blog. I'm learning little by little on how this html stuff works. Pretty soon it'll be a piece of cake (I hope!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115505639734343022?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115505639734343022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115505639734343022&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115505639734343022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115505639734343022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/many-thanks.html' title='Many thanks!'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115505580885844013</id><published>2006-08-08T12:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T12:50:08.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going to school...  for the first time</title><content type='html'>My husband and I met when I was 16.  Within 3 months of dating we knew we were going to marry. We became inseparable and enjoyed many of the same things. We married 4 years later vowing that we both didn’t want children.  We lived in wedded bliss for 5 years.  I came home from work one day and said “We need to talk” and he said “I know, I want them, too.”  So along came 3 children in 3 years. I guess we had decided if we were going to do this let’s do it quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have enjoyed most stages of these boys growing up once they turned 1 year old. (I’m not much of a baby person) I am really enjoying the 8-11 year old stage best.  I have been blessed with being a stay at home mom since my first child was born.  Years into motherhood I couldn’t wait for that yellow bus to pull up and take my kids off to school. It’s funny how God changes your plans.  Once my oldest finished kindergarten at a small Christian school we realized he needed a lot of help academically.  It was at this point that I started homeschooling.  I figured if he’d be in school all day and then have to struggle with homework all night then what was the sense?  A few years later it was discovered that he has dyslexia, along with his youngest brother.  I had taken the dyslexic tutor training course so I could work with them instead of paying a tutor.  I feel I have gotten them to a point where they are comfortable with learning.  Years ago I had visions of homeschooling all the way to graduation but now God has changed that plan, too.  I am feeling it heavy on my heart that it’s time to send them to school.  Seasons of change are upon us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115505580885844013?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115505580885844013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115505580885844013&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115505580885844013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115505580885844013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/going-to-school-for-first-time.html' title='Going to school...  for the first time'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115496405815091218</id><published>2006-08-07T11:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T11:20:58.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My first walk with God</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My walk as a true Christian began 8 years ago.  I had grown up knowing of Jesus, going to church on holidays, weddings and funerals.  I always knew there was a heaven.  But the event that I am about to share with you changed my whole perspective of how much God loved me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On August 3rd 1998, I had just given birth to our third and final bouncing baby boy.  He was a healthy 7 pounds and had been right on time. He was born in the evening so after a few hours of cuddling our new bundle of joy I did what most mothers of young children did, I sent him off to the nursery to try and get some rest.   A nurse woke us a few hours later in an urgent tone telling us to come quickly.  My husband and I jolted down the hall to see our baby with a hand held respirator breathing for him.  We had been informed that he stopped breathing and they had an ambulance ready to take him to the Children’s Hospital.  It all happened so quickly.  My husband rode in our car behind the ambulance.  I could not be released yet so I had to stay behind.  The ambulance stopped 5 times on the 45 mile trip.  We learned later that each time they had to resuscitate our little boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my hospital stay, I had friends and family come to congratulate me but it was so bitter sweet as there was no baby in the room with me.  I had to wait an extra day to be discharged so they could run tests on me to try and help determine what was wrong with our little one. Upon my release, my husband drove me to the NICU.  My 7-pound baby seemed like a giant amongst the 2 and 3 pound babies in incubators fighting for their lives.  It was the most difficult site seeing him attached to all the machines with tubes and a respirator.  They had no idea what was wrong with him.  They had given him a spinal tap to see if it was meningitis.  They were waiting for cultures to grow to give some direction. They had given him a drug to paralyze his body to keep him still while on the respirator. I wanted more than anything to hold him but I couldn’t.  We had him dedicated that day there in the hospital. &lt;br /&gt; I thank God for all the family and friends who helped us juggle this 3 week hospital stay.  We had two boys at home, ages 1-½ and 3, along with our own business to run.  I was arranging babysitting twice a day so I could spend some time each morning and afternoon at the hospital.  My husband went in the evenings after work.  It was on these daily drives that I would pray.  Not pray like I had been used to, this was more like just talking with God.  I remember the moment I handed this little boy over to the Lord and told him I was okay with whatever the outcome.  I felt such a peace fill every inch of my being.  After this prayer, I arrived at the hospital and the doctors told me they had the answer!  He had a beta-strep bacterial infection in his lungs.  Now they knew what to treat him for and things should start improving.  They warned me that I would have a handicapped child to care for.  I didn’t care as I knew it was all part of God’s plan.  He may have been a little slower to reach milestones along the way but as of today he is a healthy, happy child.  There are a few quirks to his personality but who’s to say those were even caused by his difficult start in life.  Every year we celebrate his birthday, I celebrate my being born again.  It was a time that I struggled to get through but I wouldn’t change a single detail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115496405815091218?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115496405815091218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115496405815091218&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115496405815091218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115496405815091218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-first-walk-with-god.html' title='My first walk with God'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31773343.post-115403681364317274</id><published>2006-07-27T17:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T21:01:43.990-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging World Newbie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#339999;"&gt;This world of blogging looks like too much fun to just sit back and watch. I have been reading about people who, if I didn't know any better, have been living my life. I am so excited to finally have joined this cyber world and look forward to making many new friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31773343-115403681364317274?l=tipofthemit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/feeds/115403681364317274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31773343&amp;postID=115403681364317274&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115403681364317274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31773343/posts/default/115403681364317274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tipofthemit.blogspot.com/2006/07/blogging-world-newbie.html' title='Blogging World Newbie'/><author><name>Denise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02494071433138540834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='26' src='http://i104.photobucket.com/albums/m195/northcountrypeddler/j0402358.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
