tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86082890978890063432024-03-14T08:06:59.070-05:00Kelli Through the Looking Glass: The Release SessionsKelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-56038014652131927192012-09-09T22:07:00.003-05:002012-09-09T22:14:21.346-05:00Seventy-Three<div>
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Seventy Three 9/9/12</div>
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Today is September 9. This day may not mean a lot to many people, but to me it's very special. It is my grandmother's birthday, her 73rd. Oh, what a day for celebration.</div>
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I don't know what it's like for people on their 73rd birthday, what goes through their minds, their reasons for celebrating or not celebrating, but I know how my grandmother's birthday made me feel. Blessed, overjoyed, thankful, and elated are just a few of the words I can think of. You see, in August 2004 my grandmother was diagnosed with Stage IIIC Ovarian Cancer. Stage III3 means the cancer is in one or both ovaries, and one or both of the following are present: Cancer has spread to lymph nodes (any T, N1, M0) Deposits of cancer larger than 2 cm (about 3/4 inch) across are seen in the abdomen (T3c, N0, M0). (Information courtesy of www.cancer.org). My grandmother's cancer was not in her lymph nodes, but her cancer deposits were over 2 cm in size. It was a scary time for our family. The matriarch who has eaten well her whole life is now faced with the battle of her life, just before her 65th birthday. It didn't seem fair. It wasn't fair. But Cancer does not discriminate. I wondered how she would get through, and morbidly, how long she would live. A couple months? A couple years? I had no clue. No one did.</div>
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This is a why today is SO big to me. It's been 8 years since that diagnosis, and she's still here to celebrate her birthday. Grandma is undergoing chemo again, so she doesn't know how she'll feel from one day to the next...let alone one hour to the next. With that in mind, we (my family and I) decided that we would periodically visit her throughout the day. Tom, Zachary and I went over to her house this morning, and she looked better than she had in months. She had color. She was smiling. She was herself. On Friday I called her to check on how she was feeling as she had just had chemo Tuesday. She's been suffering from terrible reflux and heartburn that was so crippling she could barely eat at all. When she went to the doctor, she told him about a medicine that my mother takes for a similar problem. He looked it up and said, "Let's give it a try." You know what...IT WORKED!! When I called her on Friday she sounded SO GOOD! She raved about all the food she was able to eat and keep down. She was so happy, and that made my day. Unfortunately that news was followed by bad news. With Ovarian Cancer patients, they monitor their CA125 levels. The higher the number, the more active the cancer is. When Grandma started chemo again her numbers were in the 30's. A month later they were in the 70's. This month the numbers were in the 130's. Fear shot through me, but she told me, "We're chasing it with the chemo. It'll be ok."</div>
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The past several weeks I haven't been dealing well with my grandmother starting chemo again at all. Fear set in, deep in my bones, and was crippling. I love her so much there aren't words adequate enough to express it, and she's sick...really sick, and has been for 8 very long years and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. That sucks. It's so hard to watch someone you love so deeply go through hell and back and not seem to get better. In the last couple weeks I've shut down. I don't want to talk about it. I feel like I've told the story so many times and people are sick of hearing about it. I feel like I don't really have the right to be as sad as I am. I feel like I'm complaining, and while I don't mean to, I'm sure to some it may come off that way, and I don't have the right. I'm not the one who is sick. This past week has been the worst, largely because she was still struggling with eating, she was weak and not getting any better. All week my heart just felt heavy in my chest. I didn't want to talk. I really just wanted to be left alone. I even went to bed early...really early. I couldn't take the days anymore. I honestly cannot remember ever feeling so depressed.</div>
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As I was driving to work on Friday morning, something was nagging at me to call her, so I did. When she told me the medicine was helping her and she was finally able to eat I was overwhelmed with joy. I was so happy for HER.</div>
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It's amazing the things we take for granted, and I think being able to eat would have to be one of the biggest. Now my grandma, who absolutely loves food, can eat again, which means she can gain strength and continue to fight this cancer head on. Thank you Lord for the recommendation of the medicine, for the medicine itself, for the doctor who made the medicine and for her oncologist who prescribed it. If not for all these people, my grandmother's quality of life wouldn't be what it is on her very special day, and if you know someone battling cancer you know how special each and every birthday is.</div>
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Today I am overwhelmed with gratitude that my grandma had a good day. I know they're probably not all going to be like this, but I am so happy that on her day she was well and happy and able to enjoy her family.</div>
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Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-23241833621946588762012-08-06T21:30:00.001-05:002012-08-07T09:21:25.141-05:00Tomorrow<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">I've been thinking, knowing that I needed to put something down about what is going on, but I've been fighting it like I always do. My mind runs in cycles of thinking maybe it's good to let it out, and then the thoughts that it's really not a good idea. Some people already know, some all too well, and I feel like there are times when they tire of hearing about it. Not that anyone has ever said it, but it's gone on so long...it's a cycle of sickness and health. Pain and healing. Relief and frustration. And I feel dumb for feeling like I have a reason to be so upset.</span><br />
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I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. Tomorrow my beautiful, sweet, strong and courageous grandmother begins chemotherapy again. I can't even tell you how many times, how many different kinds she's taken. All I know right now is that it's been a lot. A lot.</div>
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This month marks 8 years since she was first diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. I remember how I was told, my mother beside herself screaming, "My mother has cancer!" and feeling like the world was collapsing around me. Every second of that experience is branded in my memory, and every time she starts chemo again I feel like my knees go weak, the words escape me and the tears roll. Then I become this recluse not wishing to discuss it because it makes me extremely vulnerable. This woman I absolutely adore is sick and there isn't a damn thing I can do.</div>
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A few months ago my grandmother was on a different type of chemotherapy. She was on it for several months, and then it got to the point where she could barely swallow food or drink. She had a scope done and the oncologist didn't see anything that would cause this to happen. So she and my grandfather talked about it and they decided it was time for a break from chemo. She'd been on it for so long, it really was time. When she went in for her first blood test after stopping chemo, her numbers had dropped substantially...almost 20 points. I'd begun to wonder if she'd been on the chemo so long that it was inhibiting her immune system and now it was finally rebounding. There was a little sliver of hope that things were finally going to get better, but something told me not to get my hopes up too high. It was during this time that her oncologist's office contacted her to let her know that Doxil, the kind of chemo she'd responded best to, was now accepting new names for their waiting list for the drug and recommended that she try to get on that list just in case. (Yes, there is a waiting list for this kind of chemo. Crazy huh?) She got on the waiting list, and it was a good thing because the next time they ran her blood work her numbers had jumped up and she was beginning to feel bad again. She was having pain and other symptoms that are common in Ovarian Cancer patients. She is also having more difficulty keeping food down. So she is scheduled to start chemo tomorrow. One dose per month for six months.</div>
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Since learning this I have not wanted to talk about it. Not to my husband, my sisters, my best friend. No one. Actually I still have no desire to discuss it because I'll become a sobbing, babbling idiot and it's not a great sight. I've clammed up. I didn't call her for two weeks. I don't know what to say. I'm afraid I'll start crying and then upset her. I'm afraid of the cancer. I'm so afraid that I have completely let my fear take over. It's absolutely ridiculous.</div>
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Yesterday I took Zachary over to their house to swim and I talked to her for a little bit. She was tired and looked weak. She was so small when I gave her a hug. It's so hard to see her like that. I don't want her to have to deal with this crap anymore. I wish there was something I could do that would make it better. I'm working on talking to her more. I hear all the time how lucky I am that she is so close, and they're right I am beyond blessed. I just wish I knew how to deal with this better. I seem to always shut down when she gets sick. I know I am so lucky. I have friends who have lost mothers and other family members to Ovarian Cancer in a shorter amount of time than this. Eight years is a long time to live with Ovarian Cancer. I don't negate that for one second. I know how blessed we are that she is still here with us and continuing to fight. She's the strongest 5 foot tall German I will ever know. She is amazing.</div>
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So I need some help. I need prayer in a big way. First, please keep my grandmother in your thoughts and prayers. Her name is Irene. Please pray for her strength and healing through this entire process. Second, please pray for my grandpa, Dean. I know this is very hard on him no matter how much strength he feigns. Last, please pray for our family. We are all dealing with this differently, some better than others, but please pray for us to be uplifting to her, and that we would be able to help her with anything she needs emotionally or otherwise. Please pray for strength in spirit because this is very emotionally taxing at times. Please pray that we can overcome our fear so that we can be fully present for her and help her in any way that she needs. It really means the world to me. </div>
</div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-66241720723960739932012-05-12T10:23:00.001-05:002012-05-12T10:30:32.005-05:00GuardianSometimes, not often, but sometimes songs reach me at the exact moment in which I need them. Wednesday I was online and I learned that Alanis Morissette is scheduled to release her newest album, Havoc and Bright Lights, this fall. The first single from the album is "Guardian." I have listened to this song several times and it reaches out and grabs me at this precise moment on multiple levels.<br />
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Being a mother is the toughest and yet most rewarding responsibility a woman can face. This small face looks to you for everything, every need, love, guidance, etc. I believe that our maternal instincts reach beyond our own children. Whether these instincts touch the children of our nonnuclear families, children we meet in passing, or those we never encounter, our need, desire, craving to protect them is held sacred in the core of our humanity. <br />
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As I listened to "Guardian" my mind wandered to thoughts of children I will never meet, children whose lives are traumatically lived and exposed to the most disgusting atrocities. These are the children that I pray will be helped by our efforts through Stop Child Trafficking Now (SCTNow <a href="http://www.SCTNow.org/">www.SCTNow.org</a>).<br />
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Music reaches people on different levels, and songs have different meanings, perceptions to every single person who lets the words soak into their heart. For me, "Guardian" speaks to me as a story of someone who has been through hell and back, the people who weren't there for them, and the people who made the brave decision to stand up for them and offer comfort as their guardian. The chorus especially speaks to me and encourages me on a level I never anticipated.<br />
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I feel compelled to do more for victims of sex trafficking in conjunction with fighting the demand by volunteering with SCTNow. To be there for these people who have been broken by those who couldn't care less. To be uplifting. To think beyond what people tell me I am capable of doing. To be present and active in changing lives one step at a time. To be a <b><i>guardian</i></b>.<br />
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xoxo,<br />
<i>Kelli</i><br />
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GUARDIAN<br />
By: Alanis Morissette<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">You, you who has smiled when you’re in pain</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">You who has soldiered through the profane</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">They were distracted and shut down</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">So why, why would you talk to me at all</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">such words were dishonorable and in vain</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">their promise as solid as a fog</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">and where was your watchman then</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your keeper for life as your guardian</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your warrior of care your first warden</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your angel on call, I’ll be on demand</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The greatest honor of all, as your guardian</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">you, you in the chaos feigning sane</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">You who has pushed beyond what’s humane</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Them as the ghostly tumbleweed</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">And where was your watchman then</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your keeper for life as your guardian</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your warrior of care your first warden</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your angel on call, I’ll be on demand</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The greatest honor of all, as your guardian</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">now no more smiling mid crestfall</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">No more managing unmanageables</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">No more holding still in the hailstorm</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">Now enter your watchwoman</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your keeper for life as your guardian</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your warrior of care your first warden</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">I’ll be your angel on call, I’ll be on demand</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The greatest honor of all, as your guardian</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', Corbel, helvetica, verdana, arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-17481389946367344362011-05-22T22:05:00.000-05:002011-11-24T07:06:56.469-06:00My Letter to TN State Senator Stacey CampfieldDear Senator Campfield,<br />
<br />
I am e-mailing you in response to the “Don’t Say Gay” bill. While I appreciate your passion for protecting students, this matter is not one that I can say I agree with you in the slightest manner.<br />
<br />
First let me start off with telling you a story. It was 1993 and I was a 6th grade student at New Providence Middle School in Clarksville, Tennessee. As you are well aware, the AIDS epidemic was fiercely on the rise at this time. I will never forget going to the school’s open house with my mother, and my science teacher, Mrs. James, telling the parents that she would have to have permission from all of them to talk about AIDS in the classroom. All of the parents were ok with that…all but one. At the end of our meeting with the teacher, one of my classmate’s parents told the teacher that she didn’t feel such topics were appropriate for the classroom, and that this was “truly an issue for gay people only.” I cried when I left the open house that day. I was 11 years old and I knew what she said was not true, and her ignorance was depriving us of the ability to be properly educated on the subject. That year Mrs. James did not teach about AIDS because of one parent’s ignorance of the subject.<br />
<br />
My reason for telling you that story is several fold. We now are well aware that AIDS is not just a “gay issue.” AIDS affects individuals of every race, sexual orientation, religious affiliation and creed. It is not a biased virus. However, because one individual chose not to educate herself properly about the illness, many children were not allowed to learn about it. While I am still bothered by that day, I am thankful to this woman. If it were not for her ignorance, I would not be such an advocate for the rights of all, including those of the LGBT community.<br />
<br />
It is out of sheer ignorance that we were denied proper education of a very serious matter, and the bill you have proposed does the very same thing. You are denying the children of Tennessee the right to learn about what it means to accept others, and you are essentially breeding more hate in an already fragile community of students.<br />
<br />
It is hard being different. It’s even more difficult to be different when the state says you cannot discuss your differences. You cannot talk to your guidance counselor about being gay. What if the only stability a child has is their teacher?<br />
<br />
Your bill does nothing but further fuel the fire of hate and further deprive our young children proper education and skills that will help them understand that no matter our differences we are all people deserving equality.<br />
<br />
I am fully aware that educating teachers on how to properly teach and or counsel students about homosexuality will take time, but it is worthwhile. I also understand that you’re concerned that teachers are already overloaded with math, science and English. We teach to a test. Whether you choose to admit it or not, that is in essence what we do in the state of Tennessee. Why not make the investment to teach to the test of life? These are skills that children will carry with them throughout their lives, both socially and professionally. Furthermore, to address your concern that a teacher might “do more harm than good” when addressing the subject of homosexuality, why not make this a part of guidance class? My son has guidance at least once every other week, and nothing would make me happier than knowing that he is learning social skills that he will carry with him for the rest of his life.<br />
<br />
Also on the subject of teachers potentially doing “more harm than good,” if there is a teacher that is so ignorant and expresses such a lack of control that he or she cannot keep their personal feelings out of the classroom, than they need to be counseled and/or removed from their position. The classroom is not the place for a teacher’s biased opinion. Teachers cannot teach my child that one religion is better than another, or that one race is greater than another no matter their personal feelings. I think it is time that we add no sexual orientation is greater than another to that list.<br />
<br />
I am also aware that you have made mention of the anti-bullying legislation in your arguments that students are protected from bullying because of this bill. To my knowledge, the anti-bullying campaign is not available in all schools. My son’s school just started it this year, and I know that last year there were only three or four schools in Montgomery County that it was made available to.<br />
<br />
The anti-bullying campaign educates students about being responsible and respectful, however it cannot stop bullying. It can attempt to prevent it, but it cannot stop it. While I understand that you co-sponsored the anti-bullying legislation, you have just sponsored a bill that contradicts it. At a time when the suicide rates of our young people are growing each day because of bullying, I cannot believe that you would even consider proposing such legislation.<br />
<br />
Whether you are for or against the rights of the LGBT community, one matter that is ridiculously obvious is that you have shamelessly ignored separation between church and state. I understand that you are a Christian. I am a Christian as well, and I find it deeply disturbing that while we are called to love others as ourselves, you would propose legislation that promotes ignorance, misinformation and hate. Your bill is making it obvious to the rest of the world that Tennessee has missed the mark, that we are behind the rest of the country in our educational practices and that we are not concerned with the well-being of LGBT children, or children who come from LGBT homes.<br />
<br />
I want more than anything to be proud of the state that I live in, but this simply isn’t possible if we continue to wallow in our ignorance of the LGBT community. It is my hope, and ultimately my prayer, that we will live out Mark 12:28-31 and love our neighbors as ourselves. With your proposed legislation, we are denying our teachers the right to speak freely and answer our children’s questions. This will only result in continued ignorance and intolerance of the LGBT members of our society.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Kelli FaerberKelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-77292986481066393742011-02-19T11:36:00.004-06:002011-02-19T12:29:53.540-06:00Surprises in the Heartfelt Department<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TqO4_DUFUoBPpKDSxjfj_yCaYj8971yNZlUhWnd4XMHB9k7WR-t3kzuk_lRfPYK0UzgcQ3kUYjLF_v_ge5ibaYnLyzur_viRyUvgEl46Yo1Te3gCqVF8reizAAkNa1WhMlsqvKTXmDpj/s400/hungry+child2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575467539240296626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 350px; height: 234px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Last night I was blessed to participate in the Spaghetti Dinner to benefit F.U.E.L. at Xtreme Ministries. It was a wonderful night of service and incredible fellowship. It was wonderful to see the people we'd given tickets to come in and have a meal they might not have otherwise had. That alone would have been worth it, but the fact that the concerted effort yielded enough funds to feed the students that receive food from F.U.E.L. for a month made my eyes well up with tears. Children who would otherwise spend their weekends with little to no food now would be able to eat. That was overwhelming.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe because there was a point in my life that I was walking the fine line between being able to buy food or standing in a line at a food pantry. Even working five jobs at one time I was not able to make ends meet. There were times when Zachary was little that people blessed us with food and clothing that I couldn't afford to buy. I thank God for those times, because it makes me so much more passionate about serving those in need.</div><div><br /></div><div>When we were cleaning up after last night's dinner, Lyndsey asked me if I knew of anyone who could use two large bags of salad mix because they didn't use it and didn't want it to go to waste. I contacted the director of Loaves and Fishes and she told me that I could drop it off the next day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I called Loaves and Fishes this morning and spoke with a gentleman named John. I told him everything and said that I just wanted to make sure someone would be there when I got there. He thanked me profusely and said that they would be there. When I arrived, John greeted me at the door and helped me bring in the items. He asked me again where the food had come from and I told him. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Thank you so very much Miss Kelli. I used the last of my produce this morning," he said.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In that moment I felt a surge of emotions, and tried to keep myself together. I was just the delivery person, but felt so blessed to do so and hear what he told me and hand him the gift that the church was giving them. Albeit small someone was going to be fed because of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>God really spoke to me in that moment. More. More needs to be done. More needs to given. More action needs to be taken. We are willing to spend $5 on a cup of coffee but not spend an extra $5 or more at the grocery store to donate to the local food pantries, or donate to the food pantries or soup kitchens directly. Would it hurt us so much to spend the extra money at the grocery store and drop the food off at <a href="http://www.clarksvillenow.com/Loaves-and-Fishes/6685682">Loaves and Fishes</a>, <a href="http://www.mannacafeministries.com/site/">Manna Cafe</a>, <a href="http://www.hilldaleumc.com/Groups_%26_Ministries/F._U._E._L._Program/">F.U.E.L.</a> etc? They are all in need our help so that they can serve our community. </div><div><br /></div><div>To me it's a cause that strikes a chord deep in my soul. I look at the food in my cupboard and think how blessed I am, but I am also reminded of all of those who might go hungry tonight. So here is my challenge to all of us: Give. Give more. You will be serving those who would otherwise go without, and you will be greeted with the greatest of surprises in the heartwarming department...knowing that because of you someone will be able to eat.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b><i>"For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited me in." Matthew 25:35</i></b></div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-62557773527652657562011-02-11T19:20:00.002-06:002011-02-11T19:22:37.277-06:00Dear John<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I gave too much credit to the story</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of why you weren’t present in my life</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t realize at the time</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You were poison of the bitterest kind</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You left me to feel</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Underestimated</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Underappreciated</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Under rug swept</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You left me to feel</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unworthy</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ungood</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Undeserving</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">What’s a girl to do with that?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">How’s this girl supposed to feel?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And you wonder why I won’t</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why I’ll never call you dad.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You can be so lethal</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Words slice like blades</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s all about you</p> <p class="MsoNormal">All the time and I’m tired of it</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Could you ever see me?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Could you ever look beyond you?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your tunnel vision is making me crazy</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your stories ever changing</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have had enough</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why must you always</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Did your claws in so deep</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why is it I lack the ability</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To make you understand</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Do you even see me?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Do you have a clue who I am?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Allow me to introduce you </p> <p class="MsoNormal">To the girl you left in 1982</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m the girl who can’t believe anyone</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m the girl who doubts everything</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The queen of second-guessing</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Nothing I do will ever be good enough</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear John,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I kick my own ass</p> <p class="MsoNormal">No one can beat me down </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Quite like I can</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I pick myself apart</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I worry the world I know</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Will soon fall out </p> <p class="MsoNormal">From under my feet</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For me to thrive</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For me to survive</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s time to cut the cord</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s time to let go</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Every time, every single time</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You verbally beat me down</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You tear me apart</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Those days are over</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s time for me to move</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To put one foot in front of the other</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To leave the past in the past</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s time to bid farewell</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I forgive you</p><p class="MsoNormal">But I must move past you</p><p class="MsoNormal">If there's a shred </p><p class="MsoNormal">Of hope for me to grow</p> <!--EndFragment-->Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-81045810927479504082011-01-21T10:36:00.019-06:002011-01-21T11:14:56.728-06:00Snow Day...AgainAll week snow was in the forecast for Thursday, but if you're a Tennessean, you know that the weather people generally don't have a clue what they're talking about. I think this is why everyone had some serious doubts about us getting any snow at all. Low and behold, we got snow. Quite a bit of snow actually.<div><br /></div><div>Last night when I finally got home, the wind was gusting so hard and the snow hurt when it hit my face. It was crazy, but it sure is beautiful today. Especially since I don't have to drive in it. I had scheduled to be off work today so that I could be here when our furniture was delivered. However, due to the blizzard of 2011, Haverty's will not be delivering our furniture today. So, I am enjoying the view from my window, doing a little blogging and spending some quality time with Zachary.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning I was doing a little work on my computer when in my peripheral I saw something walking outside. I looked and realized there was a beautiful fox walking around in the lot across the street. I yelled for Zachary to get my zoom lens for me, and I was able to get some pictures. Unfortunately, they didn't turn out as great as I would have liked since I accidentally left the camera in the aperture priority setting. Ugh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here are a few pictures I've taken since yesterday. Enjoy!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>PS TDOT, if you're reading this, my road still needs to be plowed. Thank you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Kelli</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0zgFv7qqQ0inzt8lhWTtWXHrtA6jjXit9WmnrxYLQisLg6Ck6v5x63upHBysYtqmmkbH3yjMdxE2xv-8iJZwGPcI0Y40awAKgnNENbw7CcvhrXZjcqFPU2SeQmhPh4FVYL6ffG-_dAqp/s1600/DSC_0793.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0zgFv7qqQ0inzt8lhWTtWXHrtA6jjXit9WmnrxYLQisLg6Ck6v5x63upHBysYtqmmkbH3yjMdxE2xv-8iJZwGPcI0Y40awAKgnNENbw7CcvhrXZjcqFPU2SeQmhPh4FVYL6ffG-_dAqp/s320/DSC_0793.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564687610296877826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBEdnqxfdQT_SEo-VW1IYvzmG7K4rBAX14v8C_g-Qsyb9j71OzmagAlTjTEwXzAU4HdjHKSgUDFeLn54PRDzU58GQqaomB2r62pSkUAQuSucHx7EUQCeAsmBbA-ZeuyDIfZqQZmyXhect/s1600/DSC_0807.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBEdnqxfdQT_SEo-VW1IYvzmG7K4rBAX14v8C_g-Qsyb9j71OzmagAlTjTEwXzAU4HdjHKSgUDFeLn54PRDzU58GQqaomB2r62pSkUAQuSucHx7EUQCeAsmBbA-ZeuyDIfZqQZmyXhect/s320/DSC_0807.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564687389000567634" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uHzPfTVs_OUYrWbVdx-_zXW-2ex9PVxYomE8Mhfof87ZtLEpha6T-FpXqG_Ab9m25y0pj4EIMuDxsaf3BC85FzBV9NDkP1zrbai-b4uZFX5A8tqTOW01t4nEqw2mXE_Ofcnl5v8RLJYb/s1600/DSC_0808.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uHzPfTVs_OUYrWbVdx-_zXW-2ex9PVxYomE8Mhfof87ZtLEpha6T-FpXqG_Ab9m25y0pj4EIMuDxsaf3BC85FzBV9NDkP1zrbai-b4uZFX5A8tqTOW01t4nEqw2mXE_Ofcnl5v8RLJYb/s320/DSC_0808.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564687099295507154" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GqkwNT4SgDmDQaFjanTU76PggL1PN30OF7ike46sXr3vyvGbFqHyzvzip0N1EB37F4BS67L8oKycxQNqobF_cPgDKEdqugqCHGNhVoCYIk7cS36Mh0bm23pf-lAdOmrBbw1awTxPAj8z/s1600/DSC_0809.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOybx68VjfaLwyjwKk7BlQ4xQe3Aza9DuDhDwTbWSycY-kbC8NKGnVM0t-IKVtD8PSlPv0sBbZe446dIaqDtv5dmecuOv8o9rXfWF7ATBEejsy0yEcJwxf5oxW3TlR8qnhkvp4S9a61mAR/s320/DSC_0835.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564683703003676002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1IWkyuNQpkDzTIAsUR2HMdbNAycHjbQYvCXz7SsgipZIwCMHMeQx7fV1dH023LBeVkGaf8m97stLSb4vIYlwRC9Ck9V8bqYSNebhGltqyJ7tZR0AFCsayI4Ys5SlOre47n633MAB-G-9/s1600/DSC_0836.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn1IWkyuNQpkDzTIAsUR2HMdbNAycHjbQYvCXz7SsgipZIwCMHMeQx7fV1dH023LBeVkGaf8m97stLSb4vIYlwRC9Ck9V8bqYSNebhGltqyJ7tZR0AFCsayI4Ys5SlOre47n633MAB-G-9/s320/DSC_0836.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564683353973111634" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRm-W7C_yzmMH4YFX8_aJxitH5Wo50-Bvq90YBMegUoglYt7hZomjIiduZKqpEIDdYkkExU7MqgtKIfa1TCj_Ee20yBDE9uulf_DoAm45RLGNojgpCPHV050z89Bph409_uptIHj9sc8id/s1600/DSC_0837.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRm-W7C_yzmMH4YFX8_aJxitH5Wo50-Bvq90YBMegUoglYt7hZomjIiduZKqpEIDdYkkExU7MqgtKIfa1TCj_Ee20yBDE9uulf_DoAm45RLGNojgpCPHV050z89Bph409_uptIHj9sc8id/s320/DSC_0837.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564683061228553666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlZZPh4QoC9J7D7O1eNVjKWsex_md3NbYsfwSldpwM6UNZT48lB7RA_gUYclzsWb-jALsFNhzhO8NlQSeq_L62ArTHvNUNMbk7a-vKxowKs9PezKErJhzzdJKyfKBoD3EyhiBuf-bNSoU/s1600/DSC_0847.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlZZPh4QoC9J7D7O1eNVjKWsex_md3NbYsfwSldpwM6UNZT48lB7RA_gUYclzsWb-jALsFNhzhO8NlQSeq_L62ArTHvNUNMbk7a-vKxowKs9PezKErJhzzdJKyfKBoD3EyhiBuf-bNSoU/s320/DSC_0847.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564682686085467106" /></a>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-33992153479014391482011-01-13T21:55:00.000-06:002011-01-13T21:57:29.746-06:00The Facebook Fast: Day 4<div>Psalm 119:156 Your mercies, God, run into the billions; following your guidelines, revive me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow...is that powerful! Your mercies run into the billions! I am so thankful for this verse, because I know I am eternally in need of mercy and grace. :). Especially on days like today when I feel like I can barely lift my head up. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tonight is the 4th night of my Facebook fast, and it is also the 4th night of my 21 Day Fast reading plan. Tonight's scripture was Psalm 119. This is the longest Psalm if I'm not mistaken. This verse spoke to me in ways I never expected, and for that I am abundantly thankful. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mercy. Today I needed truckloads of mercy. I am so drained by the events of the day that I don't have the energy or desire to share it. I just feel spent, but I am so thankful for the extra time in the word with God so that I can get through it. Praying for a better day tomorrow.</div><div><br /></div><div>Big love and hugs,</div><div><br /></div><div>K</div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-55926084219156712212011-01-11T19:36:00.001-06:002011-01-21T11:24:53.257-06:00The 21 Day Facebook Fast: Day 2<div>Today is the second day in my 21 day fast from Facebook, and I must admit it has not come without temptation. It sounds silly, doesn't it? </div><div><br /></div><div>As I explained before, I am fasting from my personal Facebook account. I have a work account that I created under a generic name, because part of my job is to post the news to the ClarksvilleNow Facebook page. It's a requirement, but I still felt that the Lord was telling me I needed to step back from my personal page as it has taken my focus from other more important things. </div><div><br /></div><div>For instance, I spend more time checking on and posting to Facebook than I spend in prayer or reading my bible. (Yes, I just admitted that.) I catch myself checking it while I am cleaning, or having dinner with my family. I have allowed it to take my attention, and I have felt very convicted about it. So, it was the obvious choice to me when I decided to fast.</div><div><br /></div><div>Temptation</div><div><br /></div><div>Temptation has hit me quite a bit today. Almost to the point that I debated whether or not to even post to the ClarksvilleNow Facebook page. I wanted to see what my friends were saying, how their days were going, etc. The trigger for that happened this morning. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was telling my mom that I was fasting from Facebook, and she told me, "Well there was something on Facebook this morning that you might want to know about...Lynn's (my cousin and lifelong best friend) son had a seizure last night." </div><div><br /></div><div>My heart started going crazy. Lynn had called me last night, and I saw it on my missed call list this morning. I remembered thinking it was odd thar she called so late, but never once thought it could have been something so severe. I felt guilt for not knowing about it, and for not having read about it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, in hindsight, I see the complete irrationality of that statement. Lynn called me last night to tell me about it, so there was no need for me to read about it on Facebook. I did get in touch with her, and her little boy is doing great now. But isn't it funny how the devil used that situation to invoke such extreme guilt? I felt disconnected, but it's like I have said, "If someone needs to get ahold of me they can email or call me." Lynn called me. There was no need for me to read it on Facebook whatsoever. </div><div><br /></div><div>21 Day Fast Reading Plan</div><div><br /></div><div>This evening I started day two of my reading plan listed above. Today it talked about telling your friends about your fast so they can keep you accountable. This is the biggest part of the reason that I am sharing this journey with you. I ask that you all keep me in your prayers for the next nineteen days, and keep me accountable. </div><div><br /></div><div>Big thanks & love,</div><div><br /></div><div>Kelli</div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-77604212515708946172011-01-10T18:54:00.000-06:002011-01-10T18:56:35.627-06:00The Facebook FastToday was the first day of my 21 day Facebook fast. I have decided to do this because, well, I just feel in my heart that it would be good to give it up for a while. Many friends of mine are fasting for twenty-one days, and I was very encouraged by their fasting. So I am joining in! I am excited to see the ways God will work in my life in the next three weeks. It has been eye opening already! I catch myself trying to log in a lot, and I'm always thinking of things to "post". Crazy huh? It's funny how Facebook has been so tightly woven into my daily tapestry! I will try to write a little everyday about this 21 day endeavor. I can't wait to see a more intentional, less distracted and more connected version of myself in the coming weeks!Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-56603089532207019032010-09-26T09:52:00.005-05:002010-09-26T10:14:19.832-05:00We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQCynUHram-ZClMLpuZw5h9ItvVZ1dc_gPsFlApo4HJW8iEahhOrVFNnnr28YWa6-NeTKGglG6Z8CyFgaoeAJUTVnBPtb7V4JoBXWZKFrtBevYODaIuQW1JFL3kgTyA8YaZ23yllqjpa7/s1600/we+sing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlQCynUHram-ZClMLpuZw5h9ItvVZ1dc_gPsFlApo4HJW8iEahhOrVFNnnr28YWa6-NeTKGglG6Z8CyFgaoeAJUTVnBPtb7V4JoBXWZKFrtBevYODaIuQW1JFL3kgTyA8YaZ23yllqjpa7/s320/we+sing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521236759408315890" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">I borrowed the title from Jason Mraz’s latest album, which you may or may not have noticed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So I’d like to tip my hat to Mr. Mraz for the inspiration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have no idea if what he was talking about is anything close to what I think when I read those three sentences, but I digress.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This morning I was preparing breakfast for my son, and as I served it to him I decided I wanted to watch the Jason Mraz video I bought at FYE.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As I picked it up from the table, I read the title “We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For some reason the thoughts began to pour in.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">We Sing.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sing for joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sing for release (or at least I know I do).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sing for healing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sing because at our core we gain great joy in that space where there is nothing but those precious words, the music, and us.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In your place of worship (if you have one) you give praise, and it’s in that place of ultimate surrender that you feel such incredible, overwhelming emotions, and God fits in those spaces of hurt and lets you know He is there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is present.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">In everyday life, songs speak volumes to us. They don’t even have to be overly sentimental lyrics, but just getting in the car (or wherever you might be at the time) and shedding the skin of the day, the stress of the day, you belt out your favorite songs and feel a sense of release.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s an incredible feeling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I love singing, I always have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I love creating while singing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I love sitting in a circle with people, guitars and other instruments playing, and just creating something out of thin air. Maybe it’s something that’s been festering in my heart that intuitively makes its debut, or something just fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There are few things better in the entire world.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">We Dance.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We dance, and certainly not with the most incredible grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sometimes we dance without a care in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As they say, “Dance like no one is watching.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That takes a lot of courage, at least for me considering I am tremendously self-conscious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We throw our hands up in the air, and with a smile on our face we move to music, we move out of sense of achievement (the happy dance).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We let go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We dance.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal">We Steal Things.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We steal things every day, and not always intentionally. We steal things without realization of the crime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we are in conversation with someone and think our thoughts and words are more important than theirs to the extreme that we don’t allow them to get a word in edgewise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we don’t return a phone call because we’re “too busy”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we don’t pick up the phone to touch base with someone we swear is important to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we forget special times in the lives of those we care about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When our words cut like knives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we don’t say, “I love you”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we take people for granted. We steal little pieces of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>What’s worse is that it’s hard to give those pieces back, because in the time we have those pieces they can chip, develop new shapes, and maybe even grow and they no longer fit in the spaces they originated from. We steal things, tangible or intangible. We steal things. Precious things. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s the times when we allow ourselves to be present, to be warm, to be loving, to be intentional that we touch the hearts of others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we reach outside of ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we think beyond ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we surrender our selfishness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we not only make ourselves available to those we encounter, but invite them into our sacred spaces, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When we take their hand and invite them to dance with us, to sing with us, to heal with us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is where healing begins, and joy thrives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dance, sing and be present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Love more, and steal less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Dance more, without fear of the eyes watching you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sing, but sing from your heart, and let the magic of the experience touch your soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lift up your voice, move your feet and let go of it all, and while you’re at, it invite someone to join you and share in the experience.</p> <!--EndFragment--> <!--EndFragment-->Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-44458983498541532332010-06-28T16:27:00.005-05:002010-06-28T18:58:56.853-05:00You are Captivating<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZIgfaoOzPsw01P3dKS6_KUZJw-eCd2QJ48jUxi1z8DddGj0MKDMPN4jt9E57XyOpGJXxlMnCYKe8956wz0tSTQ3WSz4AIixt-OnIEKSNMDSZG0Nqx5dKaEt4E6YghHIGxVpECviSIgZNj/s1600/Captivating.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487949136138074498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZIgfaoOzPsw01P3dKS6_KUZJw-eCd2QJ48jUxi1z8DddGj0MKDMPN4jt9E57XyOpGJXxlMnCYKe8956wz0tSTQ3WSz4AIixt-OnIEKSNMDSZG0Nqx5dKaEt4E6YghHIGxVpECviSIgZNj/s320/Captivating.bmp" /></a> <div>Last night was our final session for our bible study group on the book "Captivating". I have really enjoyed reading this book...well for the most part. This book has held the proverbial mirror up, and made me acknowledge all the destructive behaviors I have been living with. This hasn't been easy. The most prominent of these behaviors is my tendency to hide. I hide in my work, my responsibilities, my obligations, etc. The thing was that I never realized I was hiding. I actually believed that I was just a workaholic! In actuality I was running from my emotions, the pain they carry, my rampant insecurities, and so much more. When I realized what I was doing, it was like hitting a wall that I could not get around. <em>The only way out was through</em>. The range of emotions was great, and I cried a lot through this process but not always from sadness. It was a cleansing of my spirit...something I've needed for a very long time.<br /><br />As we completed this wonderful book, the mood was bittersweet. Many of us, if not all of us, didn't want it to end. And eventhough it was the last chapter of the book, God was still working in miraculous ways through each of our hearts. I won't get into the details of what was said, because that is private, but I can tell you that through it all God has healed, mended, been exhaulted, and built what I believe to be life-long friendships. Each of these women I have had the privilege to spend this precious time with is such a beautiful person...inside and out. If you know them, you should consider yourself blessed. I know I do.<br /><br />Eventhough I did not have all the words I was looking for last night, and maybe wasn't as eloquent as I would have liked to have been, I was able to say something that was very important to me. I was able to tell my best friend what an amazing woman she is, and how grateful and blessed I have always felt to not only know her, but to call her my friend. I have told countless people countless times what a special friend she is to me, but I never sat down and told her to her face. I was so thankful for the opportunity. :)<br /><br />So that brings me to this question...who matters to you? Have you let them know? I mean <i>really </i>let them know. Have you sat down with them and told them what a blessing to your life they are, or are you just assuming they already know? If that's the case, you might be surprised to learn they don't always know. We all have our insecurities, and sometimes just hearing it, knowing deep in your core that you're special to someone can be so healing. Words are so powerful, and they may just be what <i>"your person"</i> needs to hear. If you're anything like me, you may not realize how saying those words may make you feel. It's an incredible feeling all around, and I would challenge you to do say what needs to be said.<br /><br />Proverbs 4:23 "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." </div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-12340720468126310322010-04-17T09:22:00.006-05:002010-04-18T10:17:08.191-05:00Kelli Through the Looking GlassIt's been a while since I've blogged about anything, and for a girl who generally has a lot to say I am finding myself not knowing where to start. <div><br /></div><div>A couple weeks ago something happened, and I didn't know how to handle it. It was a transition, but unlike most transitions it was crippling. I won't get into the specifics, but let me just say that I was lost in how to take it all in. I felt like I didn't know how to function, that I was worthless, unneeded, unappreciated, etc. I just wanted to stay home, crawl under the covers and cry. I was depressed. I can't remember the last time I felt that low.</div><div><br /></div><div>A few days later, I was at a Predators game with my friend Heather and her family. While we were sitting there, she invited me to a bible study she was having at her home for women. She told me to read up to chapter 4 in the book "Captivating". I had no idea what the book was about, but I was interested.</div><div><br /></div><div>That weekend, Tom, Zachary and I ventured to Detroit and Columbus for a "Hockey Road Trip" as we were calling it. Because Tom prefers to do the driving, this afforded me the opportunity to read a lot. With my feet on the dashboard, my seat reclined and heart ready I opened the book. Within the first few pages I knew there was a reason Heather invited me, and there was a reason it was <i>this</i> book. (God often puts Heather in a place to help me, and for that I will forever be unable to express my gratitude.) There were many times I was glad I had on my sunglasses, because I didn't want Tom to see me crying. This book, in a few short chapters, told my life story, and the people who wrote it don't have a clue who I am. That being said, I think there are facets of my story that are all too familiar to many women. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I read, I approached a section of the book that featured brief snippets of other women's stories. Through almost all of them I told myself, "That's you. That's your story." It was incredibly difficult to read, because it forced the pieces of me that I hate so much to the surface. All the pieces of my past that in some way shaped me into who I am, who I see in the mirror, a reflection I have forever struggled with. The author talked about hiding - not just physically (which I have done since I was 2 years old), but emotionally, from not only the people around you but yourself. All those little pieces I hid for years, were now visible and I couldn't stand it. I felt so much shame, and it wasn't the book's fault. It just made me realize I am terrific at hiding, and it's about time I quit that.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are many stories from my past, the "pieces" as I often call them, but in the interest of not hurting anyone else I will refrain from sharing them specifically. I will be as generic as I can. Growing up, I struggled with feeling seen, noticed and appreciated. My biological father left when I was a few months old. That feeling of abandonment has never left the scene unfortunately. I lacked a true father figure for years, and my mother had to raise two girls on her own until I was 11. Certainly not the easiest of tasks, but I always felt pushed to the wayside. At a young age I figured out that if I excelled at school, I would gain the praise of my teachers. Later on life I realized the same thing about work. I hid in my studies and in my work. I worked hard, and in return received the praise of my teachers and employers. At times it felt like the only place I was appreciated, and until a few weeks ago I had no idea I was hiding all this pain there.</div><div><br /></div><div>A couple weeks ago, I was told (at work) that there was no way I could continue doing the work of three people, as I had been for over a year. I was told that someone else would be doing one part of my job, and I would continue doing the other. I was devastated. The one place I sought refuge had failed me. I had failed my self. I told myself I wasn't good enough, fast enough and strong enough, and that I should have been able to do it all. Words of my childhood had crept into my work life, and I didn't know how to put one foot in front of the other. I didn't know how to recover...until I opened this book.</div><div><br /></div><div>This book has made me realize and question myself. Yes, all those pieces I hate about myself were brought to the surface. Yes, I did wish I was still that little girl twirling in my yellow Easter dress wishing someone would say, "Kelli! You're such a lovely little girl." Yes, I finally acknowledged my hatred for my appearance in the mirror (because when I look, I see more than my outward appearance). Yes, I woke up to the fact that I had been seeking refuge in the wrong places my whole life. I poured my all into school, work and service, and while there is nothing wrong with being studious, a hard worker or serving, there is something very wrong with using it to hide. All those times when I hid in those things, I was only prolonging the pain. I was a girl disappearing. Even now, I am wondering whether or not I should post this blog. Again, trying to hide myself. </div><div><br /></div><div>At this time, the point driven home the most is that I have been seeking refuge in a place that wasn't safe at all (a glass house, if you will). And while not everyone reading this will agree, I know where I should have been going with all of this pain, hurt, frustration and shame. I should have been handing it over to God. For years I've been ashamed, and I've had the tools, I've known to turn to Him since I was 14. I just never realized how much I was hiding. So here I stand, feeling very naked surrounded by the shards of my life and thanking God for the proverbial broom (thanks Viv) to sweep it all away. Will it be easy? Life isn't easy...but it's worth it.</div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-28128719084352458202009-12-01T16:10:00.003-06:002009-12-02T11:31:33.121-06:00SatisfiedShortened are the days<br />But they remain full<br />Full of His love and grace<br />In Him, my heart is well<br /><br />Every need met - exceeded<br />With great expectations I asked<br />Every prayer answered - surpassed<br />With great joy I lift Him up<br /><br />I must testify<br />He's given more than I requested<br />I give Him great praise<br />Lord, my heart you've satisfied<br /><br />When the path was not discernible<br />When my heart ached for more<br />You answered every request<br />You wiped every tear<br /><br />You filled my heart with joy<br />You brought peace into my life<br />When nothing in the world made sense<br />You brought about in me a reason to smile<br /><br />I will lift my voice in praise<br />And thank you for your love always<br />When I ran the other way<br />You were always there<br /><br />You never turned from me<br />But remained steadfast<br />Showing me a true father's love<br />Transcends bloodlines, transcends understanding<br /><br />You have opened my eyes<br />Shown me that love is unconditional<br />Your actions have revealed to me<br />The depths of the truest love<br /><br />In my darkest solitary hours<br />You cradled me in your arms<br />You loved me through the good and the bad<br />Even when the world turned its back<br /><br />In my darkest hours<br />When I didn't know where to turn<br />I cried out to you, and you responded<br />Lord, my heart you've satisfiedKelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-33777160100208214402009-05-25T09:54:00.000-05:002009-05-25T09:56:59.877-05:00Star Gazer<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Star Gazer</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">By: Kelli Blankenship</span></div><div><br /></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer what is it worth?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">What is it worth to you?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">To be made to feel<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Less than worthy<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer you have to choose<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Not because I say<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">But because he cannot let go<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">His grip ever tightening<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer the choice is yours<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">And it must soon be made<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Will you choose to survive<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Or will you choose to live?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">It is up to you<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">There is nothing I can do<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Not a word I can say<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">He’ll still try to sway you away…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">From the truth he can’t stand to see<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">From truth staring him back boldly<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">In the shattered looking glass<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">From the truth he refuses to realize<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Change isn’t as scary as is seems<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer you have the means<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">To decide you’ve had your fill<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">To decide you are strong enough<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer it is so hard for me to say<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">You’re a reflection of me in too many ways<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">The same time, the same lies<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">The same struggle to feast on his scraps<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer it pains me to say<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">You will never be…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">You will never be Cali<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">There isn’t a girl who ever could<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer will you chose to say<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">That you have had enough today<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">That the end of your rainbow<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Doesn’t settle for a Pot ‘O Deceit<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer you deserve all the love<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">The world has to offer<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Don’t sell yourself short like I<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Like I once did<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">A precious pearl you are<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">But it is time to break the chain<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Star Gazer it is time<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">To breathe freedom, to breathe on your own<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">So until then my dear, Star Gazer</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Life will be waiting</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Love will be waiting<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Baskerville Old Face";mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Your heart will be waiting for more</span><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;font-family:"Baskerville Old Face""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-44435941064202434862009-04-25T08:33:00.003-05:002009-04-25T09:30:43.512-05:00God Still Answers PrayersThis week has been fantastically amazing. I really do mean that. God has shown himself to me in ways I have never imagined, and it has really been on my heart to share it.<div><br /></div><div>In July 2007 my father and my brother were at home in their house in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Woodlawn</span>, TN. My dad was upstairs in the office when he heard noises outside, and decided to investigate. He went outside and there was a truck stopped a the mailbox. He got within 10-13 feet of the truck when he saw a man and a woman in the truck and the woman in the yelled to him, "Call 911! My husband has a gun to my head!" My dad took off running toward the house. He ran through the garage, closed the garage door and called 911. During this time the woman who shouted out to him was murdered. Two cars pulled up behind the truck and saw the man trying to pull her back into the truck. The man then took off running in the woods behind my parent's house.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the people that pulled up behind the truck had a young girl with him, and my dad told the man the girl could come inside and play with my brother while they were talking to the police. Somewhere during this time, my dad called my mom to let her know what was going on, and let her know that the road to their home was blocked off. After calling a few people to see if she could go to their house to wait, my mother was overcome by the feeling that she needed to go home. She drove down <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lylewood</span> Road until she reached the bend in the road two houses up from theirs where police officers were turning cars around. The police officer came up to my mother's car and told her she would have to turn around. My mother said, "No! I know what happened. I know she's been killed. It happened at the end of my driveway and my son is inside without either of his parents because you're interviewing my husband. Please get me home!" They let her park in a neighbor's driveway and escorted he home.</div><div><br /></div><div>The woman who was killed that night was Pamela Cooper.</div><div><br /></div><div>My father tells me he still sees her face all the time. He also blames himself that he did not save her, that he did not do more for her. I cannot imagine how that could feel. I honestly believe he did all he could. The coroner's report said that Ms. Cooper was shot 11 times. Obviously Andrew Cooper was in the furthest place from his "right mind" that night, and who's to say he wouldn't have killed my dad? My heart has been aching for my dad through this because I know that he's been struggling with it so much. There hasn't been anything that anyone has said to him that could make him feel any less hurt in wishing that he could have done more and maybe saved her life. </div><div><br /></div><div>This was the first time in my life that I ever saw my dad vulnerable, and he most certainly had every right to be. When I think of my dad, I think of all of his strength and integrity. I still think he is strong and has unmatched integrity, but it was so foreign to see him like this. For almost two years he has been interviewed and had to see pictures of Ms. Cooper that have haunted him. For the first time in my life I felt like roles were reversed. I wanted to protect my dad like he's protected me for so many years, but I felt like nothing I could do or say would make him feel any better. I think dad also struggled with the fact that for almost two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">years, Andrew</span> Cooper said he was not guilty. My dad knew the truth. He saw his face last night and knew that other than Cooper, he was the last one to see Pam alive.</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday morning I was listening to the radio when I heard that the trial for Andrew Cooper was going to begin on Monday. I called my mother and asked how my dad was doing. She said, "He's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ok</span>. He knows what he has to do." I told her I would call dad that weekend, but for some reason I could not bring myself to do it. It was extremely selfish of me, but I knew that once I was on the phone with him I would start crying. It's so hard knowing what my dad has had to go through and the pain he's carried with him since that night. I decided not to call.</div><div><br /></div><div>Monday morning I was listening to a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Rebecca</span> St. James CD and the song that was playing was "Quiet You With My Love". It was my Ah-ha! moment. I got all choked up and started crying. I felt like there was a warmth all over me and turned the radio off and began to pray. I said, "God, I don't know what is supposed to happen today. I don't have a clue, but I need you right now. Lord please give Ms. Cooper's family and my father your peace today. He wishes terribly he would have done more. Lord please help him to know that he did all he could and guide him through his testimony today. Let him know that he is still helping her, even today. I don't know your will for this trial, but I just pray that it be done. Thank you so much."</div><div><br /></div><div>Two hours later I pulled up the website for The Leaf Chronicle. The headline was "Cooper pleads guilty to murder minutes before trial". I had to read it six or seven times because I was in disbelief! All I could think to say was, "You sure answered me quickly!" I couldn't believe it. I was so grateful. I instantly thanked God and started tearing up all over again. That warmth I felt in the car was covering me and I knew the wounds Ms. Cooper's family and my dad were feeling were going to begin to heal. Even just typing this now I feel so overwhelmed with emotion. I called my parent's house on my lunch break that day and my mom was so overjoyed she was in tears. It finally felt like some healing could begin. I thank God for His grace, His peace and His love. It did all make sense when I thought about it later. He pleads guilty and receives a sentence of life in prison plus 25 years for especially aggravated kidnapping. The New Testament tells us that we are no longer supposed to take "an eye for an eye". I know that this is God's will. If Andrew Cooper doesn't make himself right with God and accept Jesus as his Lord and savior, his punishment will be more than the courts could ever give him. </div><div><br /></div><div>This situation did prove to me how much God does listen, even when we think he doesn't. Sometimes it's a matter of the timing, and we become impatient. In this case he answered almost instantly, but I am sure the family of Ms. Cooper as well as my dad have been praying for a resolution for almost two years. It came in the form of a guilty plea on Monday, April 20, 2009. Praise God!</div><div><br /></div>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-49266584755243747632009-04-07T21:25:00.002-05:002009-04-07T21:29:44.397-05:00Kaleidoscope<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 153); font-family:Verdana;font-size:11px;"><p>December 9, 2008</p><p>I am in a weird mood today. I don't know what it is all about, either. I feel weird, at peace and overwhelmingly confident today. I have been thinking a lot today about a kaleidoscope of topics. I have been thinking about old friends...one in particular, that I have not seen since the last day I attended Wuerzburg American High School in December of 1998. I just realized as I was typing that it has been ten years. Ten years. Is that really possible. Ten years? While on one hand I feel like I just saw her, the other feels like it had been an eternity. Wow. Ten years since I said good-bye to her and all of my other friends in Germany. Isn't time amazing? I can remember that day like it was yesterday, but its so incredibly distant. I remember being so angry that we were leaving in the middle of the school year, leaving my friends and everything familiar...just to start over in two weeks back in Tennessee. I had never in my life been so close to a group of people as I was with my friends in Germany...especially her. I cried a lot that last day of school, but I had always hoped that I would cross paths with these people again. Many of you I have run into again in person, some I get the opportunity to visit with in our e-mails and posts here on Myspace or on Facebook. This is where I am so grateful, because if it wasn't for this method of communication, I would feel a void and a total disconnect from all of you. </p><p>They say you can never go back. I never really believed that until Leighton Barracks in Wuerzburg was turned back over to the German government this year. We won't get to go back to see things as they were. Our friends aren't there, our teachers have moved on and nothing is the same as we left it. In some ways I wish that things stayed the same, and in some ways I expect them to, but they just don't. They can't. The world, like each of us, is ever changing. Do you ever go back to a place and expect it to be exactly what it was, but it's so very different? That happens to me every time I go home to Milwaukee. Its all different. Things aren't as big as they once seemed, and people themselves evolve. This is great, but at the same time it can be slightly depressing. I tried to contact my friend from Wuerzburg over the years. I always felt very fortunate when I was able to get ahold of her. I felt like I was back in that space, in that timelessness. We would lose touch all the time, which is my fault as much as it is hers. Life happened to both of us. But for me when we would reconnect, it was like I couldn't get out of that space of wanting to think back on all those times in Germany when things seemed perfect. I lost contact with her again last summer. I just found today out that things were not perfect for her during that time. In fact quite the opposite, and speaking to me reminded her of a time in her life that she did not wish to reflect on. Not that I was the bad part, but I am associated with a time that she no longer wishes to revisit. Not knowing this for over a year broke me, because you all know how I pour myself into friendships. I could not understand what was going on, but after being told this today, it all made sense. I also have times in my life that I do not like to think of because it puts me in a tumultuous space. As I was telling a friend of mine today, when I think of these times I feel like I am watching a movie reel of someone else's life. I was not a good person. By the grace of God I was able to lift myself out of that place and move on, but I had to let go of those people that were a part of that time in order to do so. I know that I would not have been successful in my attempt to become whole again if I hung on to those relationships, and I now understand the space she is in. I understand not wanting to go back, even if it means I cannot be her friend anymore. I am okay with that as long as I know it makes things easier for her. When you care about people, sometimes you just have to let them go. You can never go back...but that is not always bad. </p><p>I have been thinking a lot about New York today, and all of the wonderful things that happened to me and my family while I was there. I have been home for just over a week, and I am aching to go back. I loved New York. From the minute I got off the train in Penn Station I was in a constant state of wonder. This city just drips with history, culture and vibrancy. It never stops. Its as alive at night as it is during the day. The people are not as I have been told they are. Every New Yorker I met was so nice to us, going out of their way to be helpful. I loved the smell and the crispness of the air. I loved the chill of it on my face. I loved watching Zachary's face as his eyes danced in such wonder. I loved the experience of it all. I really can't wait to go back. There are things I would love to do the next time like see The Dakota Building and the memorial to John Lennon in Central Park. I would love to go to Ellis Island or even a Rangers game. I think I might like to get married there. How perfect would that be? Any of it or all of it would be awesome. I feel so blessed to have experienced the city the way I did, and to have one of the greatest moments of my life happen on the 65th floor of the Rockerfeller Building when Tom asked me to marry him. It was all so wonderful. I keep looking down at this "souvenir" I wear on my left hand's ring finger, and I am surprised everytime I see it. I can't believe it is real! I keep waiting to wake up as though I have been dreaming! I feel truly blessed. The man of my dreams thought of everything, and most importantly he insisted that my son be there when he asked me to marry him. I know that I am so lucky in every way. I just don't know how it all happened! I do know that I cannot wait for us to join our lives together. I cannot wait for the day I can call him my husband. He is so special to me, words will never be enough. </p><p>Thank you, as always, for reading. </p><p>Love and hugs,<br />K</p></span>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-22288080470999277352009-04-07T21:24:00.006-05:002011-11-24T07:16:53.176-06:00Engaged in New York<span style="color: #660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana;"><span style="color: #660000;">December 3, 2008<br />
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I hope you're all doing well! I know many of you have e-mailed me, curious about what happened in New York. Well, here's the story.</span><br />
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</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #336699; font-family: Verdana;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #660000;">As many of you know, we had been planning to go to New York for a few weeks. Initially we were going to go to visit Tom's mother's family in Connecticut</span> for Thanksgiving, and then go to New York in the days following. After talking to Tom's parents a little more, they decided not to go. Tom said, "Why let that keep us from going?"<br />
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We left Tuesday night and drove all the way through until we arrived in Parsippany, New Jersey. We had decided to save a couple bucks by staying there instead of paying top dollar for a NYC hotel. Wednesday night we went to a quaint Italian restaurant in Parsippany, and got to sleep early because we wanted to take Zachary to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.<br />
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Thursday morning we got up early and took the train into Penn Station and watched the parade for about 1.5 hours. We noticed that Zachary was getting a little anxious about going to F.A.O. Schwartz as we had promised him, so we decided to hop on the subway and take him to the toy store. We spent over four hours there! It was so much fun. Zachary was able to play with so many toys, while at the same time giving us an idea of what he would like for Christmas. Coolest of all...we got to play on the "Big Piano". I have wanted to do that since I was a kid.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #336699; font-family: Verdana;"><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUd-dQfsmKSYRbbrpi8d0vIBLy5UccuYZMmqsrt4yvNNoEcj8UA_BZ7aHMwDb_i7HtjqXcnGzKAJh3PV-lX8vrSioo3_BXFvUGVub6v-1z0wJ4CgDVPwKxh2GWbAZAgiLIMel4er_6C0y/s1600-h/100_4314.JPG"><span style="color: #660000;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410667626339946050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUd-dQfsmKSYRbbrpi8d0vIBLy5UccuYZMmqsrt4yvNNoEcj8UA_BZ7aHMwDb_i7HtjqXcnGzKAJh3PV-lX8vrSioo3_BXFvUGVub6v-1z0wJ4CgDVPwKxh2GWbAZAgiLIMel4er_6C0y/s320/100_4314.JPG" style="cursor: hand; height: 320px; width: 240px;" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #660000;">After leaving F.A.O. Schwartz, we walked down 5th Ave and looked into some shops that were open. Before I knew it we were in Rockefeller Center in front of Radio City Music Hall and the entrance to the Rockefeller Building. Tom then suggested, "Why don't we try to get a table at the Rainbow Room, or the Rainbow Grill?" We walked up to where they sell the tickets for the observation deck of the Rockefeller Building and asked if there were any tables available. They told us that the entrance was on the other side of the building, they were booked up, and that they had a dress code. So Tom said he wanted to walk around to the other side and see what we could do, and we did.</span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Upon arriving to the other side, there were quite a few people ahead of us in line and the gentleman who was directing people told them that the Rainbow Room was booked up, and they were turned away. When we walked up, Tom told asked if there was a table for three available. The gentleman gave Tom a funny look, handed him a menu and said, "It's Thanksgiving, so the prices are a little higher. I just don't want you to be surprised when you get upstairs." Tom looked at the menu, closed it and handed it back and said, "We'd like to have dinner." The man was obviously surprised at this. We definately were not dressed to their strict dress code, but he walked us to the elevator and said, "Enjoy your dinner." I was shocked that we were able to get in.</span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">When we arrived on the 65th floor of the Rockefeller Building, the host greeted us. Tom told him that we wanted a table for three. The host asked, "Who sent you up here? I am all booked up?" Tom told him that the gentleman on the first floor sent us up. The host said, "Ugh. Ok, check the coats and I'll see what I can do." Tom went to check the coats, and as Zachary and I were waiting there, the attitude of the two men standing at the door seemed to really change. One of them went to their Thanksgiving display and retrieved a small decorative turkey. He came back and asked Zachary, "Do you like turkey?" Zachary nodded, and the man handed Zachary the little turkey. The man said, "There ya go little guy. A souvenir from New York." Tom came back, and the host seated us.</span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">The view from out table was out of this world. It was very hard for me to pull my eyes from it. The whole city was below us and the lights just sparkled. It was breathtaking. I got up to take a few pictures, and then the photographer offered to take our picture. I was really surprised when Tom said that he'd like to because he's usually not into all of that. </span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;">After taking the picture we went back to our table and the waiter asked what we would like to drink. I told him that I wanted a Diet Coke, and Tom then asked me if I would like wine instead. I looked at him funny when he asked me this because he doesn't drink, and never suggests that I do. I asked him if he was sure, and he nodded. "It's Thanksgiving, and we have a lot to be thankful for." I asked the waiter if I could have a glass of Riesling, and he told me that he didn't have Riesling by the glass. Tom then jumped in and said, "Let's get a bottle, and I will have a glass, too." This threw me a little, but I took it in stride because I try not to read into anything these days. It doesn't serve me well to do so.</span><br />
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The waiter returned with the bottle of wine, and a basket of various breads. When the waiter left, Zachary asked if he could have some bread, and Tom told him no. I couldn't understand why Tom wouldn't let him have any bread. He kept telling him that he had to wait a bit. Tom looked up at me and began to speak, but his voice was quivering. He said, "This has been the best year of my life, and I love you so much." I told him that I really loved him and that I was so happy. He then looked at Zachary who was sitting between us and asked, "Can I give your mommy a kiss?" Zachary grinned and nodded. Tom walked around the table and when he approached my chair he got down on his knee and removed a small box from his pocket. I gasped! I couldn't believe it! He then asked me, "Would you be mine for the rest of our years?" I shrieked, "YES!" I was overjoyed; crying and laughing at the same time. I don't remember ever being so happy in my life. I hugged him so tight, and all the while he kept saying, "Open it, open it." I let go of him and opened the silver box. Inside was the most perfect ring that he had made for me. It really is amazing.<br />
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<br />
Tom returned to his chair just in time for the waiter to come back to check on us. He asked if everything was ok, and I grabbed his hand and said, "It sure is! Look what he just gave me!!" He shouted, "Oh my God! This is great! You have to celebrate!" He ran to the bar and said, "Get me a bottle of champage! They just got engaged!" I could not stop smiling. We enjoyed our meal, and soon they brought out our desserts, but they didn't just bring the three slices of pie that we ordered...they brought us every dessert they had and more champagne! They spoiled us the entire night, and even let us get a picture with them before we left.<br />
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<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2fOQQNNljtmZnDWG-dH8rrNC9LjnM_Zsd7xVa_NN2kCSffKHH2sEbGFVybE_cPMyeQnBcSnVhz4lbx-KsC0txa9CiBhVwol4X22mTtdadLlhyJkrnQYlEREiLN7-xykBh_Qtf68sU4iyp/s1600-h/100_4337.JPG"><span style="color: #660000;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410660075686229842" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2fOQQNNljtmZnDWG-dH8rrNC9LjnM_Zsd7xVa_NN2kCSffKHH2sEbGFVybE_cPMyeQnBcSnVhz4lbx-KsC0txa9CiBhVwol4X22mTtdadLlhyJkrnQYlEREiLN7-xykBh_Qtf68sU4iyp/s320/100_4337.JPG" style="cursor: hand; height: 240px; width: 320px;" /></span></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;">Needless to say after three glasses of wine and two glasses of champagne I was more than a few sheets to the wind that night. When I woke up the next morning I was afraid it was a dream, that it wasn't real, but I looked at my hand and the ring was there, and the man I love with everything I have was next to me. I couldn't believe it. I get to marry this man! This man who is so loving and caring and unlike any other soul I have ever encountered. He's selfless and thoughtful, and I am so blessed that I will one day be calling him my husband.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000;">I know what many of you are wondering...so when's the date? Both Tom and I agree that we are in NO rush what so ever. We do want to buy a house together, so there are a few things to get in order before that happens. I asked Tom if we could have a small wedding, and he told me that we can do whatever I want, and that he would actually prefer that. It will probably consist of family and one or two of our best friends. The reason I want to do it this way is because I think that in larger weddings (some, not all) you lose sight of what its all about. This huge commitment becomes more about the drinks or food you're serving than the people who are dedicating the rest of their lives to each other. We don't want to lose sight of what we're doing, so I truly hope that no one is offended by this.<br />
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I have never in my life been so sure or so happy. I am just overjoyed and I feel so blessed. I used to wonder if I would end up like that scene in Bridget Jones Diary where she says that she fears she will die alone in her apartment, and eaten by wild dogs. I did think I would be alone, and honestly never thought I would get remarried. I am so glad I was wrong! :)<br />
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Thank you all so very much for all of your well wishes. I love you all and I am so lucky to have you in my life.<br />
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Love,<br />
Kelli<br />
</span></span>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-78710427886555483182009-04-07T21:21:00.004-05:002010-04-23T11:39:59.644-05:00For Her<span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,153);font-family:Verdana;font-size:11;" class="Apple-style-span" > <p><span style="font-size:100%;">September 11, 2008</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm always fear I will wake up only to read<br />That your fire which once<br />Burned with the brightest light<br />Has given up the fight </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Sometimes I am afraid<br />You'll not come home<br />And the world will be left to wonder<br />Where you now roam </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Sometimes I feel ill<br />As I sit here next to my fear<br />And all my own demons<br />I wish sometimes I didn't have to understand </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Sometimes I don't know<br />Why, oh why can't I...<br />Be there for you when you're scared<br />Be there for you when you're hurt<br />Be there for you when you're not </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Sometimes I am afraid<br />Of what you will do...<br />And your star will fall not knowing<br />How much we all love you. </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Is this what it looks like<br />When a star falls down?<br />After putting the damage on<br />for far too many years?<br />Is this what it looks like<br />When a star falls down? </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Your life's song isn't yet sung<br />Somewhere over the rainbow it lies </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">It's hard not knowing what I should say<br />When your eyes, so inquisitive<br />Think I hold the answers<br />"Birds fly over the rainbow<br />Why, oh why can't I?" </p><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">I can only tell you<br />These shaking hands don't always know<br />But I can show you and love you<br />I'll be at your side, I will hold your hand </P><p></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Through this hell<br />And all of it's fury<br />I'll be at your side<br />If only you'd let me</span></p></span>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8608289097889006343.post-50896421467869729162009-04-07T21:20:00.001-05:002009-04-07T21:20:54.052-05:00OPERATION: Snaggletooth<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 153); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; "><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"Look what Aunt Amy made me!" Morgan Flynn said to his mother after receiving a tooth fairy pillow from his aunt, Amy Painter. At the time, no one knew what this pillow crafted out of love would become to not only young Morgan, but to the children of <st1:country-region><st1:place>America</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s fallen heroes.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">On <st1:date month="8" day="22" year="2007">August 22, 2007</st1:date>, Morgan's father, CW2 Paul "Josh" Flynn and 13 other men lost their lives while serving their country in <st1:place><st1:city>Multaka</st1:city>, <st1:country-region>Iraq</st1:country-region></st1:place>. Shortly after Morgan lost his father, his mother Dusty Flynn called her sister Amy, and told her that Morgan was getting ready to lose his first tooth.<span> </span>Amy had just finished making her own daughter a tooth fairy pillow and Dusty asked her if she would make one for Morgan.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"We grew up with tooth fairy pillows," Amy said, "So I thought what can I do?" Amy decided to make the pillow out of one of Josh's uniforms. While her sister Dusty was out of town, she went to her house and sneaked one of Josh's BDU jackets, as well as a patch with the Airborne Wings embroidered on it.<span> </span>After collecting these materials, she took them home and began to make Morgan's tooth fairy pillow. When Dusty came home, Amy told her that she was done with Morgan's pillow.<span> </span>She gave her the pillow and said, "I hope you're not upset."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"I knew she wouldn't be.<span> </span>I knew any one coat wouldn't be more special than the other when it came straight down to the BDU jackets," Amy said. "I really did not anticipate all this at all.<span> </span>I did what she asked me to do, I made him a pillow. It was really intended just for Morgan."<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Amy had only sewn the ends of Josh's name tape to the pillow, and they noticed that Morgan would use the name tape like a handle to carry his pillow. "It's something that he can keep.<span> </span>It really actually was made of his dad's uniform." Amy said.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"It's more than a tooth fairy pillow," Dusty added.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Amy completed Morgan's pillow in September of 2007.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Dusty approached her mother one day after several weeks of grieving the loss of her best friend.<span> </span>She told her she wanted to do something for the other children who had also lost a parent in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Iraq</st1:place></st1:country-region> or <st1:country-region><st1:place>Afghanistan</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span> </span>She wanted these children to feel like more than just another statistic.<span> </span>Her mother came up with the idea of creating a pillow for every child.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Dusty's mother, Cindy Chester responded with, "What do you think if we make tooth fairy pillows for all of these kids?"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"Oh my God!<span> </span>That's it!"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">So they got together with Dusty's sister Amy to make sure that it was alright with her since it was originally her idea. They then approached their sister Mandy Stroud to see if she would be on board with the idea as well.<span> </span>They were all quite determined to make sure that no one was left behind.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">For the four women, coming up with a name for their organization proved to be tricky.<span> </span>They threw ideas around the office, and were asking people they work with for help. They wanted it to include the word OPERATION in their name.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"I looked at Amy and I was like Snaggletooth!" Dusty said "So then, well we have to have a slogan."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">After tossing ideas around they decided on "Fairies in Flight…No Tooth Left Behind" because Josh was a pilot, and because he always said that nobody is ever left behind.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Dusty was contacted by a nonprofit organization that was giving away laptop computers to the children of soldiers that lost their lives.<span> </span>When Dusty had met with her Casualty Assistance Officer, she had signed paperwork saying that she would allow nonprofit organizations to contact her to give Morgan gifts because they want to. She knew that there was a list of families who wanted to be contacted, but they needed to prove to the Army that their intentions were good, and officially become a nonprofit organization.<span> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Once they had their list, they began the process of contacting the families of fallen soldiers.<span> </span>Each family receives a letter offering heart felt condolences for the loss of their soldier, and a form which they can complete and send in to the organization. Families who have lost a soldier can also contact the organization and request that a pillow be made for their children.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">On <st1:date month="4" day="14" year="2008">April 14, 2008</st1:date>, OPERATION:<span> </span>Snaggletooth sent out the first of many pillows.<span> </span>A total of four pillows have been made at this point.<span> </span>The ladies are self-proclaimed perfectionists, with some pillows requiring 12 hours of work to complete them, and several tries.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">As I was getting ready to ask the ladies a few more questions, Morgan came in from T-Ball practice. Morgan hopped up in the stool next to me, and I asked him how he felt about what his family is doing for these children who have lost a parent.<span> </span>"Good!<span> </span>Super Duper!" he replied with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.<span> </span>Morgan has also been involved in this endeavor by removing buttons and name tapes from uniforms that have been donated.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">I then asked them what they considered to be the ultimate goal of their organization. Before any of the ladies had a chance to reply, Morgan said, "To make tooth pillows!" A roar of laughter filled the room.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"To give these kids a memorial to honor their parent," Amy stated.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">"Each and every kid has a name, and there are people who understand their pain and hurt" Dusty added.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; "><span> </span>When I asked them how they feel about what they're doing, they unanimously said that it's indescribable. Their hearts and souls are in it 100 percent.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Mandy said, "I eat, sleep, and breathe OPERATION:<span> </span>Snaggletooth."</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in; ">Amy stated that people have to be selfless, "It's really just not about you.<span> </span>It's about what I can do for you."</p></span>Kelli Faerberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13544135795910533312noreply@blogger.com0