The Holy "No" by Marion Dietrich

Somewhere along the line in our lives, we embrace the idea that it is better to say yes when asked to do something than to say no. Teens,young adults, and middle-aged people find themselves, due to this constant willingness, exhausted, unfocused, and even resentful when asked to do yet another "thing.”  And before we go any further, let me say that I was and am guilty as charged of saying yes too often. However, a wise friend taught me an invaluable lesson and it is my goal to introduce you to the wonderfully freeing habit of saying no.

When Joe and I had been married a while, we were extremely active in our church, doing missions work, as well as teaching Bible studies, leading worship, and teaching Sunday School.  Oh yes, we also both worked full time. Our parents were all alive and we lived in the same town, so naturally we were invited to family get togethers.  I have a clear memory of telling my mother on a September morning that we did not have a free weekend until Christmas.  This information was not given in a sensitive manner and was received very poorly.  This is NOT an example of a holy no, and much damage was done by our zeal and passion.  It took years to restore our relationship.

Jump forward a number of years.  We still are very involved in our church, still have no children, still have parents we are trying to honor, still working full time. The phone rings and it is the husband of a family we know who do have children and he was calling to see if we could babysit for them.  Imagine a long awkward silence on my end. I informed him that I would have to talk to Joe and would get back to him shortly. When Joe and I looked at our calendars for work, church, family, alone time there was barely a space to be had.  The one crack on the ongoing litany of activity was, naturally, the time we were being asked to babysit.  We decided that no was the appropriate response in this instance.  So, I called back to deliver our answer. Imagine the long awkward silence on the other end.  Then came the sermon on carrying each other's burdens, caring for one another, etc. That relationship was also scarred for many years, but it is an example of a holy no.

As the years went by, we got asked to do more and more things.  Some fit nicely with our skill sets.  Some not at all.  My favorite request didn't even come to me directly. There was a need in our daughters' school for a girls' soccer coach for the JV team. Our oldest daughter, Katie, was at that particular stage. All the parents waited and prayed for someone to step forward. I thought my husband would have been a good coach or one of the P.E. teachers.  No one heard the call until one fall morning I had an alarming thought,"You do it!"  “What? I had never played organized sports in my life. I knew nothing about soccer. I didn't even own athletic clothing. But the thought persisted. So I volunteered. A friend wrote out drills for me, my husband did chalk talks, but I was the coach. And I got it in my head that I needed to be able to do whatever I was asking the girls to do. I ran with them, juggled the ball (terribly), demonstrated the drills for them, and we all laughed until we couldn't breathe. I am not sure if we won any games, but it was a winning season because we learned and progressed. This is an example of a holy yes.

The next fall, Katie and a few of her cohorts, were asked to play on the Varsity team and the coach asked me to be the assistant coach.  I was elated, overjoyed, thrilled...and I instantaneously said yes.  As the season began, one of my dear friends asked me how Katie felt about my new position. I hadn't asked her, but assumed she was fine.  However, before preseason started I asked her point blank, "Are you OK with this?" Again that long awkward silence for which I was completely unprepared. Her answer cut me to the quick. "It is all about what side of the line you are on, and I really would prefer that it is not the same side as me. I want you to be behind the line that defines the field."  I was dumbstruck. My husband worked at the school, her siblings went to the school, I volunteered at the school.  

"Exactly."

So the choice came down to honoring her request or abiding by a decision that made me feel needed, sporty, helpful, seen. This is an example of a holy no.  I chose my daughter over my ego. I chose to hear her instead of forcing my will. She needed a place where none of her family members were right beside her.  So I said no to coaching and yes to Katie. And I knew I made the right choice. 

These days we are asked to do multitudinous things.  We still look at our lives and our calendars, and we don't say no just go get out of doing things we don't do well, but to be good stewards of our time . An answer of no is just as holy as a call to say yes. And one extremely helpful hint: if whomever is asking you to commit to something can not wait for an answer, say no. 

Guest Blogger: Hey Little Harbor Writer

The following post is by one of my former students. I am continually inspired by her drive, vivacity and hopeful spirit.  I am honored to post her work here.  

         

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Getting off my flight from Seattle and going straight home from the airport was exciting. I did not see my bed for a good week and missed it so much! My dad opened the front door and I instantly saw a yellow package. I had forgotten I signed up for the Writer's Workshop Program  held in UMass Boston and did not expect for the paperwork to come so soon.  I took my pen and started filling in my information needed but eventually got yelled at by my mom for my sloppy handwriting. July 6th the program started and that’s when everything in my life changed… well in my writing life, that is. 

I finally sat in a classroom where everyone loved to write and all had an equal amount, if anything, more talent than me in writing. I was with “my people.”  The people I had been searching for. The ones who prefer ink time over screen time. For four weeks, I spent four hours a day four days a week improving my writing skills.  I worked on script writing, creative writing, article writing, and all the other fun types of writing. No piece of work was ever neglected, anything written was always admired and was always encouraged to be continued. We named ourselves the Harbor Writers (we had a view of the harbor from our classroom and would turn to the windows when we needed inspiration for our writing)

Free writes took place for twenty minutes every afternoon and discussions followed right after where the groups divided by high school and middle school were allowed to share their thoughts and wonderful writing. 

We were then given an hour for lunch where many memories were created and friendships became more developed. Laughs and jokes always arose from our two tables and an hour never felt like enough.  

After lunch, we were given some focused writing assignment where a certain project was given and students had to create a piece of writing using the project outline. On the nice summer days where it wasn't too humid, we did these assignments in the courtyard outside of the classroom giving us a chance to feel the fresh air and feel blessed for our surroundings.

When the program approached an end, the class put together three of their most cherished writings for our anthology. To top off our amazing and improved writing skills, the class invited family members, teachers, and any other person making a big involvement in their writing careers to a reading. Each student was allowed to read one out of their three pieces of writing to the audience of supporters. This program overall allowed me to improve in my writing, speaking, AND expanded my heart for all the people I met in this program. I did not know what kind of experience I would be sailing into but I docked my boat and stayed for the experience. The Harbor Writers have found a special home in my heart and I will never forget any of those four wonderful weeks!

This is the piece I chose to perform for the audience… ENJOY!

Hey Little Fighter 

Hey little fighter 

Soon things will get brighter

For you are not the size you wear 

or the color of your hair

You are not the color of your skin 

or anything bad said about you 

You are the words you speak 

You are the love in your heart 

You are the smile that brightens each day 

You are beautiful 

So keep your head up 

You are made up of so much beauty 

Please do not forget 

‘For the things that you think define you 

Means absolutely nothing at all 

Spoiled by Simon Wha

http://sarahjhwangphoto.blogspot.com/2014/06/e-simon-christine.html

Last night, my fiancé and I were sitting down and watching musicians practice for our rapidly approaching wedding ceremony. As we were watching them, she said something profound. She leaned over and said “Gosh, we’re so spoiled.” And in that moment, there was 100% agreement. If you were sitting down with us watching these friends play music, you’d know what I’m talking about. If you put a book down in front of me and asked me to read it out loud, I’d surely slip up with some sort of reading mistake.

 (Funny side note, I always read the word “misled” as "my-zulled.” I don’t know why. It’s a gap in my brain).



Anyway, these friends of ours could look at a score of some classical piece and play it better than I could read “Cat In The Hat." No mistakes, no hiccups. Flawless. So of course in that moment, yes, we felt spoiled with friends who love us and want to play music for our ceremony.

As I walked away from that practice, my fiancé’s statement hit me harder than I had anticipated. During this past year, I’ve been continually reminded of how much God actually loves His children and that we are utterly spoiled. When I say “children”, I don’t mean all of humanity. I mean His adopted children who were once far off but are now near. 

http://sarahjhwangphoto.blogspot.com/2014/06/e-simon-christine.html

The reality for God’s children is that everything in this life is a giant-ass cherry on top. Consider what your sins deserve. Consider your tendency towards rebellion. Consider your subversive disposition. Consider how by nature and choice, you’ve sinned against a Holy, spotless, perfect God. And then consider that even in all of that, God has spoken the words “I love you and will not treat you as your sins deserve.” Consider that He has given His beloved Son in your stead in the midst of your rebellion and has secured your future forever.

God has given what you could never attain. And yet, day after day, He gives gifts upon gifts. He has given me friends that support me financially, He has given me a soon-to-be wife who loves me despite all my flaws, He has given me parents who work tirelessly to provide for me in places I can’t, and the list goes on and on and on. Spoiled indeed.

This is not to neglect or undermine a life filled with serious hurt, trauma and struggle. But as a loving Father, He has rhyme and reason for all of it. One day, He’ll let you know why. One day, He’ll undo every ounce of torment in this life. One day, He’ll use all of it to remind you how amazing He really is and that He actually knew what He was doing.

“He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” -Rom 8:32

http://sarahjhwangphoto.blogspot.com/2014/06/e-simon-christine.html

Paul’s basically saying, “You’re freaking spoiled.” Believe it. 

On mourning the confidence of youth. By Elsbeth Cather Currier

It is very fitting that this piece will appear on KD’s blog.  We grew up together and she someone who I feel so fortunate to be able call one of my oldest and best childhood friends.

Friends since 1990...so many memories!

On mourning the confidence of youth.

Anyone close to me recently knows that turning thirty last year was a serious struggle.  It just came up so quickly.  Obviously aging is unavoidable but these milestone birthdays hit you hard with the reality that it is actually happening to you.  For some reason, I just thought it wouldn’t actually happen.  A large portion of this is due to the fact that I am not at all where I expected to be in life at this age so turning thirty literally didn’t make sense.  When you’re young and naïve, you assume by thirty, you will have everything together.  I’m sure most people beyond this age will confirm that this is rarely the case.  However most people for whom this milestone age is still far off, I’m sure they have the same beliefs I did.  Another thing that didn’t help the situation is that I spend a good amount of time each week with teenagers.  I am so blessed to have them in my life and can’t imagine what my life would without them.  However, when you talk to a student whose birthday is close to yours and ask, “How old are you turning?” And her response is, “15…so half of you.” It will make you feel like the most ancient human being to walk the planet.  

My first time volunteering with the Element high school youth group at Discovery Church was daunting to say the least.  I didn’t imagine I would care so much about what a group of teenagers who I had never even met thought of me.  Since it had been quite some time since I could call myself a teenager, I had taken recent portrayals of teens in the media as reality and was terrified that they would think I was so old and so not cool.  It didn’t take long for me to remember what being a teenager was like and that they were far more concerned with their peers and the daily drama that comes along with being a teenager than with whether I was “cool” or not.  I had forgotten the beautiful awkwardness of youth and was quickly reminded of that after a short time working with them.  As I got to know them better, I would see parts of my younger self in them which made helped connect us but at the same time it made me sad that those qualities had been lost over the years.  

My kids are honestly the most incredible people I have ever met.  They do often remind me of myself at their age but I never did and will never be able to hold a candle to them.  They have so much passion for everything in their lives.  I forgot about the fierce loyalty of teenage friendship.  I forgot about the excitement of realizing the person you want to be and having no fear about moving toward becoming that person.  I forgot what it is like to have your whole life in front of you. I forgot about big dreams.  But what I forgot about most and what seems most lost to me is the bravery of youth.  I am amazed daily by these teenagers; the lives they lead and the desires of their hearts.  When you are just beginning on life’s journey, you really have nothing to lose.  My kids dream the big dreams.  They haven’t felt the sting of one’s dreams being dashed.  They haven’t felt the pain of it “being too late” for anything.  They don’t compare their station in life with their peers. I wished that I had been like them.

Then one day, I realized it.  I had been just like them.  All theses quality’s that I admire so much in them, I had had.  I had big dreams. I had no fear.  I had confidence.  These students are far more confident in themselves and what they can bring to the world than I am now at 30 years old.  I never expected to look back on my teen years and wish for the confidence I had then.  We’re told at that age that things will be better when you’re older.  We’re told that people will be nicer.  We’re told that you’ll have control of your own life and destiny.  In most cases, these are complete lies.  And realizing that makes for a difficult jolt into adult reality.  

Upon the discovery of the loss of my youth and everything that went with it, I honestly went through a time of true mourning.  As much as I wish to go back to the person I was at 17, I know that I cannot.  I look back fondly at that girl but I have to let her go.  This is very difficult and honestly sad.  However, I know that finding the pieces of that girl that are still alive in me and pairing them with the experiences of my twenties  will yield a person capable of being brave again,  a person capable of hoping again,  a person capable of dreaming big again.  I feel so fortunate to call my kids, my friends.  They have inspired me to revive the parts of my younger self that gave me confidence and hope.    So to everyone, in this same stage, do not despair.   Take the time to mourn the loss of the confidence of youth but then search inside yourself and find the pieces that have survived the difficult realities of young adulthood.  Revive them and be brave again!  Lastly, I highly recommend spending time with teenagers in your community.  They will teach you so much more then could ever even try to teach them while also keeping you young.  I don’t even have words to express the impact my kids have had on my life and how much I love them.

Embrace The Hard Things by Andrew Patterson

The stomach bug got me down this week and kept me from putting up the guest post.  But here it is now.  Read it.  Think about it.  It's good.  I'm always so blessed to get to post pieces from my brother.  It is hard to put into words the respect and love I have for him.

I was talking to one of my OG’s. For those unfamiliar with that vernacular, “OG” is urban speak for “old wise man”. The topic of our discussion was marriage and I asked him, “How do you do it? How do you stay married for decades? What’s the secret?”

His answer made a lot of sense to me. He said, “One thing we try to focus on is always getting through the hard conversations right away, and moving on. Once you take care of the hard things, you get on the same page and your relationship can improve from there.”

To me, that seems like a really smart approach to me. I look back on some of the hard conversations I’ve had to have recently and I realize that 1) They actually weren’t as daunting as I assumed they would be, and 2) Lots of needed progress has stemmed from those conversations.

As a youngin’, my older cousin used to always kick my ass in Madden. One day I was at his house playing the computer and he snatches the controller out of my hand. He checks the settings and says “See, that’s why you’ll never beat me. You got the game on ROOKIE! If you can’t beat the computer on All-Madden, how the hell are you going to beat me!” Being a former athlete, it was clear do me that doing the things I wasn’t good would give me the greater chance at improving overall. Doing the hardest drills and playing against the toughest opponents is the best way to achieve progress.

I think if we should extrapolate the idea of embracing the hard things in all areas of life. Whether it is career advancement, relationships, education, flirting with more attractive people, accepting and engaging in what’s hard could be a fruitful practice.

A rare photo of my two favorite "hoop ball" players together

First Kiss by Blake Harper

      In 9th grade I got my first “girlfriend”. Her name? Kelli Reilly, she was an adorable, girl-next-door type and inexplicably thought I was the bee's knees. Sadly, I was a terrible “boyfriend."  Now before you start judging, let me explain this was not due to laziness, it was a product of fear. I would avoid eye contact in the hallways, say only the stupidest things when we would talk, and was terrified of handholding, hugging and kissing. I don’t know how she put up with me for the better part of freshman year, but God bless her she did. Then things took a turn for the worse.

At the end of the year our whole school had ‘Knotts Berry Farm Day’, Knotts is a theme park that’s less fun but cheaper than Disneyland. And we would get one day off to go and have fun there. It was a few days before Knotts Day and I was getting real pumped, then Kelli’s best friend Kailey approached me and gave me horrible news: Kelli expected me to kiss her at Knotts. I was still terrified, and now I had a kiss deadline?! My heart stopped. My greatest fear fulfilled (give me a break, I went to a Christian school, all of us were like this).

So the awaited day came, and it started out surprisingly well, with me being less awkward than usual. We went on the Ghost Rider with all our friends, and we even held hands during it!!!!!! OMG!! Walking off the ride, I was feeling like a boss. Then suddenly I was violently pulled behind a bush by an unknown force. I turn and see it was Kelli, and she is now staring at me. One word leaves her lips, “Well?” Days pass. Or seconds, who knows. Finally, I grab her and kiss her, then I do the stupidest thing anyone can do after their first kiss. 

I run.

Yep, I ran, and I ran for a while. Once I finally stop running, I realize what I just did, and begin despising myself. I spend the next few hours moping and reminding myself of my stupidity. Then things get even worse, I run into her again, and she’s with her friends.

I decide the only thing to do is surrender all pride and apologize. She shocks me by accepting the apology and not mocking my very existence. She even asks me if I want to go on Montezuma’s Revenge with her. Clearly I accept, beyond relieved.

It was towards the end of the day, so there was no line, which meant we got to repeatedly ride without having to get off. Now I had never been sick on a ride before, so I ignored it when my stomach began to feel very strange about the fifth ride. By the sixth I was clearly sick, yet I didn’t want to run to the bathroom since running hadn’t served me too well thus far. The seventh time there is no question I was going to puke, and now its just a matter of getting to the bathroom in time. I would not blow this! I got off the ride, holding dear, forgiving Kelli’s hand, with all our friends behind us. And while walking down the stairs, the unimaginable becomes a reality. I throw up, all my friends laughing, all her friends laughing, and all I can do is run. Again.

The moral of the story? Even the most embarrassing stories can become funny after a few years of blocking them from your memory. Hope your Valentine’s Day is better than my Knotts Berry Farm Day.

A picture is indeed worth a thousand words by Rochelle Stewart Rubino

I take a lot of pictures on my iPhone. I love the ability to quickly grab my phone and snap away at some of the fun moments of mommyhood. I think they tell a pretty interesting story. Sometimes, I post some of them to Facebook, but at other times, I don’t what to inundate my friends’ newsfeeds with photos of my little darlings. So, without further ado, here’s a photo blog of some everyday moments in life with my children.

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I love free events that provide entertainment for my children, so when I heard about Melrose’s DPW day, I didn’t delay! Gianna was thrilled to bounce in all of the bouncy houses provided and enjoyed sitting in plow trucks galore. She even had her first ambulance experience (one that did spike mommy’s blood pressure!).  Vinny was content as ever to sit in his stroller, just taking it all in while munching on his hummus sandwich.  Add sunshine and some good friends and you’ve got the makings of one glorious morning.



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A backyard, nice weather, children, and a new play structure give a few mommies the chance to sit at a patio set and enjoy a glass of wine. Yes, the kids started off having to learn to share and take turns on the swings, but eventually the toddlers ironed out the kinks and played together happily. And even Vinny “played” with the kiddos.

Check out more of Rochelle's thoughts at http://enteringmommyhood.wordpress.com

Teaberry Gum Commercial 1960's Herb Alpert Teaberry Shuffle

It’s funny the things that motivate us.  When we were younger my sisters and I would do just about anything to wheedle a Sucret out of my dad.  No, not a secret...a Sucret... “the lozenge that has provided serious sore throat relief for more than 75 years”  (www.sucrets.com)
        As I type this my throat is burning with such searing pain that I'd chop off my arm for a Sucret.  But back in the day their medicinal powers was not why we sought them out.  No, my sisters and I were sugar fiends.  Sucrets or Ludens were a sure fire glucose hit for us.



My dad kept them in the breast pocket of his sports coats (probably this very sports jacket.)

If we were lucky he’d have stashed a kudos bar or two in there as well.

My mom we’d hit up for binaca or Lifesavers or best of all gum.

She’d have them hidden in the depths of her “pocketbook.”  The term pocketbook is key because it is similar to a purse but large enough to house a small child and often woven out of various colors of jute.  Sometimes she’d have her LL Bean bag with her which meant an even longer search.

But when the result was Fruit Stripe gum it was worth the wait. Fruit Stripe, Juicy Fruit, Doublemint, Extra... whatever the brand name of gum she produced, we’d refer to it as Teaberry so that she would be forced to perform the Teaberry shuffle regardless of time or place.  And SHE WOULD!



THAT is what is so great about my mom.  Seriously, picture my mom, rewatch the video and try not to smile.

Somehow to me, a sore throat, a houseful of sick kids and a flu ridden husband don't seem so bad when I think of Sucrets and the Teaberry Shuffle.  This is how

memories are made, in the silly little things that we'll never ever forget.

Strong by Anonymous

This is a piece by one of my students.  I was so struck by it that I asked permission to share it on the blog.  
So here it is...

"Around this time last year, I was beyond upset. I wasn't quite depressed but I was very close to it. I felt nothing was right for me and I just wasn't who I wanted to be. I wanted to be happier, skinnier, smarter, and just have everything perfect. I was mentally ill and I couldn't do anything about it. I felt like it was just time to go for me. What was the point of me being here? I was like an emotional punching bag for my friends and family. Everything I did seemed wrong and I just couldn't stand it. I went from loving food to skipping meals. I went from happy movies on Friday nights with my friends to upset Friday nights alone. It seemed like I was fighting a battle and losing... Hard! Everyday seemed harder and harder to finish no matter how hard I tried to make the best out of a situation. The world that used to be filled with colors became darker and darker to the point where it became black. I've been lied to, everything and everyone just seemed fake to me. There was no reason for me be here because it was obvious from my eyes that i wasn't wanted or needed.

No one really knew how I was feeling. I wore a big smile to school that made it seem like I was happy but it was all just a fake. I didn't want to tell anyone because I thought I would be looked at differently and that was the last thing I needed. I would drop hints to my friends but no one really picked up on it. When you've been looked at as a strong person, no one really offers a hand. What was strong about me though? What looked like strong to others was my loudest cry for help. "Help me. Just make me want to stay another day."

I remember one day, I woke up in the morning and asked my best friend what she would do if I died. She told me that she would cry her eyes out, that I was her best friend and that she loved me more than words could ever explain, that I was the reason she is holding on. I cried that day for a good hour. I was done being sad. I just couldn't stand being the person I was yet I let myself become it. I woke up day after day knowing that I was just getting more and more depressed but didn't do anything about it.

I learned that I am a strong person and that even though I wanted to quit, I didn't. No matter how much I hated my life, there was always that one reason to love it. I always had my family and friends. I was loved beyond words could explain yet I was to blind to see. I learned that you are always someone's anchor and if you go, you are just giving another person a reason to go.


I was hit by the reality bus  and it opened my eyes to the wonderful life I live and I'm glad I stayed. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here typing this and I wouldn't be the happy person I am today. I love myself and I love everyone. Well sometimes... I get told I'm crazy a lot but I just like making people laugh. At the end of the day, I just want to make as many people smile and laugh as much as possible because I know I'm not the only person fighting a battle. Some people aren't as open as me to be able to talk about these things because it's a hard subject. Send a smile, it goes way further than you think!"

Photo Caption Contest #1

I've always been a fan of photo caption contests.  They are usually witty and funny but I am notoriously bad at them (some might call me a joke killer- you know the person who make something funny not funny anymore). 

So, today marks our first official photo caption contest!



































The rules are:

*comment below with a witty caption for this photo 

*share your caption on Penned but Not Published's Facebook Page

*have your friends "like" your caption on our Facebook page

*the photo with the most "likes" wins 

*Contest ends at 5pm on Sunday, April 13th.

Good luck:)

Guest Blogger: My 20 year old self

I found this old journal stuffed in a cabinet full of my journals and planners and notebooks and stumbled upon the following entry.  It is a good next installment of “the love story” but it is totally in my 19 year old diary dialect.  I was tempted to edit it to make myself sound smarter and less superficial but then I thought, “No, let’s keep it real.” So here it is.  A real entry from September 30th, 2004 which was right after I had returned to California.

“Today is definitely a red letter day [written in red ink].  I want to remember everything about it... I was feeling so down today and so discouraged and just not good enough.  But it ended so well, so unexpected.  I want to remember every turn of events, every shock and thrill. [It’s killing me not to edit out my overkill of the word “so”]  

So, David came over tonight; drove all the way out here and I hardly had time for anything.  I had to run and talk to Colleen but then I ended up canceling which I should have done earlier but I did it last second which is such a bad habit of mine.  I was really really upset with myself and just the situation so when David and I sat down to talk I told him, ‘If you are a friend...just a friend...why do I act like it’s more...why am I shifting my whole schedule when you are only a friend?’  I was so sad, I could hardly talk. 

We got up ‘cause I was gonna let him down, I was gonna let it go and hang out with Colleen which I felt was better anyways.  I felt bad though because I was so sad and he didn’t want me to be, so I tried to be cheerful and I asked him about his mom ‘cause he is going home for the weekend.  He said he didn’t want to talk about his mom.  He said he wanted me to be his girlfriend.  My jaw dropped literally it was hanging open.  I was SOOO stunned.  I couldn’t believe it was for real.  He’d never looked so attractive to me.  I started thinking of things like crazy, I thought, ‘Can we dance together?  Pray together?  Hold hands?!’  [I’m cracking up as I type the holding hands comment.]  

I was too stunned to speak though.  I’ve liked him for SOOO long!  I think I love him..’Yes, or no?’  he asked.  ‘Of course!!!!!’ I screamed.  I hugged him so long I almost fell over.  Then he gave me a promise ring.  It’s the same ring my grandfather gave me when he died and that I lost 3 years ago but then saw at Melissa’s jewelry shop last week...I have to tell Lalo this!!

                He said he promised to, ‘be faithful to me, never lie to me, and not try and get in my pants.’ [Ok, now I am seriously laughing so hard I can’t take it].  Is this true love?  I never want to take him for granted.  How did he learn to be so sweet?  I have to call my mom and my sister...how am I gonna do school tomorrow?  Thank you God for tonight.”  

Our first selfie...on like a 3 pound Cannon camera

  So that’s it, that’s how he asked me out, in my own words the day it happened.  It’s funny to look back 11 years at myself and my husband.  Turns out it was true love though I admit there are days I take him for granted.  The good news is that he forgives me and I love him even more today than I did back then.

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

          So, I finished it.  For four years Malden Reads has been having one city come together and read one book and for the first year ever I did it!  I read it and I plan to attend the movie viewings, community dinners and book discussions that go along with this fascinating book.  

         The thing about choosing one book for the whole entire city is that it is hard to find something that everyone will be interested in.  And I must admit had it not been for the Malden Reads initiative I probably would not have picked this book off the shelf.  I mean I LOVE the fact that it deals with race relations in the United States both now and during the 1950s and 60s.  I was not so sure I'd be interested in the ethical medical questions such as what should doctors do with tissue that is removed from your body?  

       When I was having my first baby I spent a long, hot evening discussing if I was interested in taking my placenta home from the hospital with me, and although there are very good reasons to do so, I think that debate really satiated my appetite for live tissue disposal.   

       However, it turns out that there are many medical mysteries at play in this book and it is worth the read if you are interested in cancer treatment, medical ethics and/or racial reconciliation.  This book opened my eyes to the complexity of finding a cure for cancer, encouraging medical research while avoiding avarice and to the power of a daughter's love for her mother.  It was an amazing story that was full of twists and turns.

 Luckily for you I  have another copy of the book to give away:)  If you are interested to read this book for free.....

1. Leave a comment stating what intrigues you most about the book and why...

a. The history of race relations in America during the 1950s and 60

        b.The search for a cure for cancer. 

        c. The ethical dilemmas related to experimentation on live cells

2.  like Penned but Not Published's FaceBook page 

https://www.facebook.com/pennedbutnotpublished

In praise of a face and two hands by J.R. Dietrich

My problem with the digital clock is it’s existential nature.  It sees itself fixed in each moment without regard to that moment that lives ahead or behind.  On the good old dial style analog clock one can see at any moment relationships between the marks upon the face.  Half past, quarter til, high noon, five after.  These establish us in relation to other moments.  We are not isolated but in community. And best of all we can anticipate.  

We understand our time, our moments and hours by the company our hands keep.  The glowing readout on the digital clock stands alone and worst of all when the power goes out he flashes off an on at noon or midnight… caught between the day and night in a pulsating panic, crying out to be renumbered, unable to move on.   

Why Malden? By Dan Ko

Today's GuestS Dan and Caroline Ko moved to Boston in 2008 with a dream of giving their lives to see a church planted in a diverse city. They quickly found a gospel-centered community at Seven Mile Road and found themselves giving everything to its vision to see Bostonians coming to believe the Gospel, be discipled, and live on mission through an ever-growing network of healthy Seven Mile Roads all over Boston for Jesus' glory and our joy. Over the next five years, a lot happened. Dan changed jobs a bunch, we bought a house in Malden, Caroline quit her job to become a full-time mother, and we welcomed two kids in to our family. But that wasn't it. In February 2013, there was a clear opportunity to plant a church in Malden to reach the diverse population that's been emerging. It was then, Dan and Caroline knew there was a clear call on their lives to plant a church in that city. So, the pastors of Seven Mile Road and her people, commissioned Dan and Caroline to plant a church set to launch in the Spring of 2014.

WHY MALDEN?

Good question. Why would anyone plant a church in Malden, Massachusetts? Of all the cities in these United State of 'Merica - no scratch that - out of all the cities on all 7 continents, why this little city on the north side of Boston that's "home" to 60,000 of the 7 billion people (0.00009%) on this planet earth? Why would anyone plant a church in Malden? There are definitely sexier, cooler, trendier, more populous, more prestigious, more awe-inspiring cities one could plant a church in, so why Malden? The answer is really simple actually. We're planting a church in Malden, because God loves Malden. 

Yea, you might've skimmed past that last line, but it's the most important line of this whole thing: God loves Malden and her people. He does. I know...well, because the Bible told me so. One of Jesus' disciples John wrote, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:16). It's cliché, but only because it's true and that should hit you hard - real hard. God loves this world, which includes the city of Malden, Mass. 

And because God loves Malden, He longs for her people to know His son, Jesus, through whom we can know God. And to know Jesus, people have to hear about Him. And for people to hear about Him, there need to be people that talk about Him. And where there are a people that talk about him, you've got a church. And that's exactly what we want to be. A church that makes Jesus known in Malden!

We want to be a community that loves this city and her people, not because we think we can make it a better place to live or because we think we can change people on our own terms, but simply because God loves this city. And because God loves it, we love it. If the motivation to plant this church is because we think we can make this a better place to live, we are no better than a civic non-profit. If our motivation is to change people on our own terms, then we are no better than a rehab program. If our motivation is to run a profitable venture then we are no better than a corner store. But we are none of those things, because God calls us to be the church - those devoted to the knowing Jesus and making Jesus known. And for us, that's happening in Malden, MA. 

Whether you're in Malden or Madagascar, wherever you are right now, consider how you could love your neighbors knowing God loves them, too. Let's make Jesus known. 

Check out more from Dan and Caroline at http://www.surpassingworth.com