How to Brew Kombucha from Candy at www.keepingthehome.com
Kombucha is one of the most healthiest things you can consume. It is also naturally carbonated, and can taste quite delicious. The strange thing about Kombucha, is that two of the ingredients in brewing it isn't necessarily healthy - black tea and white sugar.
However, that is not "food" for you, but for the Kombucha Scoby. The Scoby is a Scimbiotic Culture Of Bacteria and Yeast. The sugar and tea are the "food" for the Scoby. Just like you feed sourdough starter flour and water, you feed a Scoby sugar and tea. The sourdough starter "eats" the flour and water, and turns it into a natural, sour leavening agent. The Scoby eats the sugar and tea, and turns it into a very healthy, naturally fizzy drink.
WHAT YOU NEED
- A very large glass jar (do NOT use metal or plastic, a Scoby can leach the toxins out of metals and plastic)
- A double layer of cheesecloth to cover the large jar, and a rubber band to secure the cloth on
- 1 Kombucha Scoby (if you don't have one, then refer to the article called "Growing a Scoby" on this site to find out how to get one, or grow one yourself)
- 4 black tea bags (organic if can you get it)
- 1 cup white sugar (organic if you can get it)
- Water
- 1/2 cup of Kombucha liquid, OR apple cider vinegar
- Patience ;-)
HOW TO MAKE IT
1. In a large stew pot or stockpot, bring 3 quarts (12 cups) of water to a boil.
2. While you're waiting for the water to boil, pour one cup of sugar into the bottom of your large brewing jar.
3. Pour the boiling water on top of the sugar, and mix it, until the sugar is completely dissolved in the hot water.
4. Put in the four bags of tea, and leave them in there for a long time.
5. Leave the tea out, and let it cool to room temperature, then remove and throw away the tea bags.
6. Pour in 1/2 cup of Kombucha liquid, or apple cider vinegar. Do NOT forget this step, or your brew will likely mold.
7. Wash your hands thoroughly, and make sure you are not wearing any rings that could touch the Scoby, then get the Scoby out of its home/jar:
The above is a picture of a Scoby that I have been growing and fattening up for about two months. As you have probably guessed, that Scoby was grown in a large square jar - that is why the Scoby is square, instead of round.
8. Gently float the Scoby on top of the tea mixture. Most Scobies will float, but some sink. Either way is fine.
9. Cover the brewing jar over with a double layer of cheesecloth. Secure the cloth on with a rubber band.
10. Set the jar in a dark cupboard, away from any plants, chemicals, and contaminants. Leave the jar there - undisturbed for one week.
11. ONE WEEK LATER - Your brew should smell like vinegar. If not, then gently insert a straw into the liquid - pushing the Scoby out of the way. If it tastes anything like tea, then let it brew for a few days more, then taste it again, and brew longer, if needed. Otherwise, if there is a vinegar smell, then your brew is probably done.
NOTE - If there is any mold on or in your brew, then throw away the brew, including the contaminated Scoby. However, don't confuse brown yeast spots with furry mold. If your brew molds, the mold should look like spores or be furry, and will likely be white, blue, or green in color. Yeast cultures on the Scoby will be brown and slimy, and are normal for a healthy Scoby.
12. Your Scoby should have a new baby Scoby grown on top of it. You can keep the baby on the mother, or separate the two, which are held together by a thin membrane. Now you can start two brews, if you'd like. You can do one brew with the mother, and another with the baby. Each time you brew, your Scoby should grow another Scoby on its top. When a Scoby is getting old, it'll turn dark brown, and should then be thrown away, or ground up and used as a skin ointment, etc.
13. Put your Scobies into a jar, filled with some of your fresh brewed Kombucha, and store that jar in your brewing cupboard. A simple one-quart mason jar, half filled with Kombucha, and with the Scoby pushed under the liquid is good enough, and should preserve your Scoby just fine. In fact, if you forget about it for a month or two, then it'll probably have a new, and very fat Scoby floating on top.
14. Meanwhile, pour your freshly brewed Kombucha into glass bottles, and store them in the fridge. It's a good idea to pour the Kombucha through a very fine strainer as you are pouring it into the bottles, to strain out the little, brown yeast globs. It's perfectly fine if you accidentally swallow some yeast globs when you drink Kombucha, however, most of us don't like the feeling of it going down our throats. Therefore, you may want to strain your Kombucha before you drink it.
You can also flavor your Kombucha. One of my favorites is ginger. Just grate up a few tablespoons of ginger, and put it into the bottom of one of the bottles you pour the Kombucha liquid into. You can also do this with fresh strawberries, cherries, grated lemon peel, etc. Lemon peel and fresh ginger go well together in Kombucha.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
What ABOUT socialization?
What ABOUT socialization?
Two women meet at a playground, where their children are swinging and
playing ball. The women are sitting on a bench watching. Eventually, they
begin to talk.
W1: Hi. My name is Maggie. My kids are the three in red shirts -- helps me
keep track of them.
W2: (Smiles) I'm Terri. Mine are in the pink and yellow shirts. Do you come
here a lot?
W1: Usually two or three times a week, after we go to the library.
W2: Wow. Where do you find the time?
W1: We home school, so we do it during the day most of the time.
W2: Some of my neighbors home school, but I send my kids to public school.
W1: How do you do it?
W2: It's not easy. I go to all the PTO meetings and work with the kids every
day after school and stay real involved.
W1: But what about socialization? Aren't you worried about them being cooped
up all day with kids their own ages, never getting the opportunity for
natural relationships?
W2: Well, yes. But I work hard to balance that. They have some friends
who're home schooled, and we visit their grandparents almost every month.
W1: Sounds like you're a very dedicated mom. But don't you worry about all
the opportunities they're missing out on? I mean they're so isolated from
real life -- how will they know what the world is like -- what people do to
make a living -- how to get along with all different kinds of people?
W2: Oh, we discussed that at PTO, and we started a fund to bring real people
into the classrooms. Last month, we had a policeman and a doctor come in to
talk to every class. And next month, we're having a woman from Japan and a
man from Kenya come to speak.
W1: Oh, we met a man from Japan in the grocery store the other week, and he
got to talking about his childhood in Tokyo. My kids were absolutely
fascinated. We invited him to dinner and got to meet his wife and their
three children.
W2: That's nice. Hmm. Maybe we should plan some Japanese food for the
lunchroom on Multicultural Day.
W1: Maybe your Japanese guest could eat with the children.
W2: Oh, no. She's on a very tight schedule. She has two other schools to
visit that day. It's a system-wide thing we're doing.
W1: Oh, I'm sorry. Well, maybe you'll meet someone interesting in the
grocery store sometime and you'll end up having them over for dinner.
W2: I don't think so. I never talk to people in the store -- certainly not
people who might not even speak my language. What if that Japanese man
hadn't spoken English?
W1: To tell you the truth, I never had time to think about it. Before I even
saw him, my six-year-old had asked him what he was going to do with all the
oranges he was buying.
W2: Your child talks to strangers?
W1: I was right there with him. He knows that as long as he's with me, he
can talk to anyone he wishes.
W2: But you're developing dangerous habits in him. My children never talk to
strangers.
W1: Not even when they're with you?
W2: They're never with me, except at home after school. So you see why it's
so important for them to understand that talking to strangers is a big
no-no.
W1: Yes, I do. But if they were with you, they could get to meet interesting
people and still be safe. They'd get a taste of the real world, in real
settings. They'd also get a real feel for how to tell when a situation is
dangerous or suspicious.
W2: They'll get that in the third and fifth grades in their health courses.
W1: Well, I can tell you're a very caring mom. Let me give you my number--if
you ever want to talk, give me call. It was good to meet you.
--Author unknown
Two women meet at a playground, where their children are swinging and
playing ball. The women are sitting on a bench watching. Eventually, they
begin to talk.
W1: Hi. My name is Maggie. My kids are the three in red shirts -- helps me
keep track of them.
W2: (Smiles) I'm Terri. Mine are in the pink and yellow shirts. Do you come
here a lot?
W1: Usually two or three times a week, after we go to the library.
W2: Wow. Where do you find the time?
W1: We home school, so we do it during the day most of the time.
W2: Some of my neighbors home school, but I send my kids to public school.
W1: How do you do it?
W2: It's not easy. I go to all the PTO meetings and work with the kids every
day after school and stay real involved.
W1: But what about socialization? Aren't you worried about them being cooped
up all day with kids their own ages, never getting the opportunity for
natural relationships?
W2: Well, yes. But I work hard to balance that. They have some friends
who're home schooled, and we visit their grandparents almost every month.
W1: Sounds like you're a very dedicated mom. But don't you worry about all
the opportunities they're missing out on? I mean they're so isolated from
real life -- how will they know what the world is like -- what people do to
make a living -- how to get along with all different kinds of people?
W2: Oh, we discussed that at PTO, and we started a fund to bring real people
into the classrooms. Last month, we had a policeman and a doctor come in to
talk to every class. And next month, we're having a woman from Japan and a
man from Kenya come to speak.
W1: Oh, we met a man from Japan in the grocery store the other week, and he
got to talking about his childhood in Tokyo. My kids were absolutely
fascinated. We invited him to dinner and got to meet his wife and their
three children.
W2: That's nice. Hmm. Maybe we should plan some Japanese food for the
lunchroom on Multicultural Day.
W1: Maybe your Japanese guest could eat with the children.
W2: Oh, no. She's on a very tight schedule. She has two other schools to
visit that day. It's a system-wide thing we're doing.
W1: Oh, I'm sorry. Well, maybe you'll meet someone interesting in the
grocery store sometime and you'll end up having them over for dinner.
W2: I don't think so. I never talk to people in the store -- certainly not
people who might not even speak my language. What if that Japanese man
hadn't spoken English?
W1: To tell you the truth, I never had time to think about it. Before I even
saw him, my six-year-old had asked him what he was going to do with all the
oranges he was buying.
W2: Your child talks to strangers?
W1: I was right there with him. He knows that as long as he's with me, he
can talk to anyone he wishes.
W2: But you're developing dangerous habits in him. My children never talk to
strangers.
W1: Not even when they're with you?
W2: They're never with me, except at home after school. So you see why it's
so important for them to understand that talking to strangers is a big
no-no.
W1: Yes, I do. But if they were with you, they could get to meet interesting
people and still be safe. They'd get a taste of the real world, in real
settings. They'd also get a real feel for how to tell when a situation is
dangerous or suspicious.
W2: They'll get that in the third and fifth grades in their health courses.
W1: Well, I can tell you're a very caring mom. Let me give you my number--if
you ever want to talk, give me call. It was good to meet you.
--Author unknown
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Hairbrush story worth reading! PLEASE read this!
HAIRBRUSH EXPERIENCE OF BETH MOORE AT THE AIRPORT
For those of you who do not know Beth Moore, she is an outstanding Bible
teacher, writer of Bible studies, and is a married mother of two
daughters who lives in Houston, TX.
This is one of her experiences:
April 20, 2005, at the Airport in Knoxville, waiting to board the plane,
I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing.
I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say this because I want to
tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in
you.
You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise.
Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least
of which is your ego.
I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped
over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that
obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier.. His knee s
protruded from his trousers and his shoulders looked like the coat
hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of
veins and bones.
The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy, gray hair
hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails
were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.
I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my
face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found
myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I
remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport... An
impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere? There I sat; trying
to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin
slice of humanity served up on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.
All the while, my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a
feeling for him.
Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern,
and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking
old man.
I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall..
I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so
contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen.
And it may be embarrassing...
I immediately began to resist beau se I could feel God working on my
spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. 'Oh, no, God, please,
no.' I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it
into heaven and said, 'Don't make me witness to this man. Not right
here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but
don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this
gawking audience. Please, Lord!'
There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, 'Please don't
make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane.' Then
I heard it....'I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush
his hair.'
The words were so clear, my heart leap into my throat, and my thoughts
spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair?
No-brainier. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, 'God,
as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this
man. I'm on this Lord. I'm your girl! You've never seen a woman
witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if
his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am going to witness to this
man.'
Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write
this statement across the wall of my mind.. 'That is not what I said,
Beth.. I don't want you to witness to him; I want you to go brush20his
hair.'
I looked up at God and quipped, 'I don't have a hairbrush. It's in
my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a
hairbrush?' God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to
walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: 'I will
thoroughly furnish you unto all good works.' (2 Timothy 3:17)
I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.
Even as I retell this story, my pulse quickens and I feel those same
butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as
possible, 'Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?'
He looked back at me and said, 'What did you say?'
'May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?'
To which he responded in volume ten, 'Little lady, if you expect me to
hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that.'
At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, 'SIR, MAY I HAVE
THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?' At which point every eye in the
place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more
peculiar than old Mr. Long Locks. Face crimson and forehead breaking
out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his
face, and say, 'If you really want to.'
Are you kidding? Of course I didn 't want to. But God didn't seem
interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my
heart until I could utter the words, 'Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But
I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush.'
'I have one in my bag,' he responded.
I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands
and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing
what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair..
It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many
things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling
knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either
Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very
bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull. A
miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's
hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive
for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed
and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this
sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another
soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I - for that few
minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like some one renting a room and making
Himself at home for a short while.
The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be
God's. His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's.
I slipped the brush back in the bag and went around the chair to face
him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knee and said,
'Sir, do you know my Jesus?'
He said, 'Yes, I do'
Well, that figures, I thought.
He explained, 'I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't
marry me until I got to know the Savior.' He said, 'you see, the
problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart
surgery and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here
thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride.'
Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when
we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand,
was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in
details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never
forget it.
Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane.. I was deeply
ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have
accompanied him on that aircraft.
I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the
airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her
cheeks. She said, 'that old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why
did you do that? What made you do that?'
I said, 'Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!'
I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted,
you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move
on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or
feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of
temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees
you as an individual. Tell Him your need!
I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many
opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way ... all
because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me
to that old man. He sent that old man to me..
John 1:14 'The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have
seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father,
full of grace and truth'
Please share this wonderful story.
If your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light........ Mt.
6:22
By God's grace I am what I am..... 1 Corinthians 15:10
'Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the
rain!'
For those of you who do not know Beth Moore, she is an outstanding Bible
teacher, writer of Bible studies, and is a married mother of two
daughters who lives in Houston, TX.
This is one of her experiences:
April 20, 2005, at the Airport in Knoxville, waiting to board the plane,
I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing.
I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say this because I want to
tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in
you.
You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise.
Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least
of which is your ego.
I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped
over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that
obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier.. His knee s
protruded from his trousers and his shoulders looked like the coat
hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of
veins and bones.
The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy, gray hair
hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails
were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.
I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my
face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found
myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I
remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport... An
impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere? There I sat; trying
to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin
slice of humanity served up on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.
All the while, my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a
feeling for him.
Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern,
and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking
old man.
I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall..
I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so
contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen.
And it may be embarrassing...
I immediately began to resist beau se I could feel God working on my
spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. 'Oh, no, God, please,
no.' I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it
into heaven and said, 'Don't make me witness to this man. Not right
here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but
don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this
gawking audience. Please, Lord!'
There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, 'Please don't
make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane.' Then
I heard it....'I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush
his hair.'
The words were so clear, my heart leap into my throat, and my thoughts
spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair?
No-brainier. I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, 'God,
as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this
man. I'm on this Lord. I'm your girl! You've never seen a woman
witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if
his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am going to witness to this
man.'
Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write
this statement across the wall of my mind.. 'That is not what I said,
Beth.. I don't want you to witness to him; I want you to go brush20his
hair.'
I looked up at God and quipped, 'I don't have a hairbrush. It's in
my suitcase on the plane. How am I supposed to brush his hair without a
hairbrush?' God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to
walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: 'I will
thoroughly furnish you unto all good works.' (2 Timothy 3:17)
I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.
Even as I retell this story, my pulse quickens and I feel those same
butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as
possible, 'Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?'
He looked back at me and said, 'What did you say?'
'May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?'
To which he responded in volume ten, 'Little lady, if you expect me to
hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that.'
At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, 'SIR, MAY I HAVE
THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?' At which point every eye in the
place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more
peculiar than old Mr. Long Locks. Face crimson and forehead breaking
out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his
face, and say, 'If you really want to.'
Are you kidding? Of course I didn 't want to. But God didn't seem
interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my
heart until I could utter the words, 'Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But
I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush.'
'I have one in my bag,' he responded.
I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands
and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing
what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair..
It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many
things well, but must admit I've had notable experience untangling
knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either
Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very
bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull. A
miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's
hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive
for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed
and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair. I know this
sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another
soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I - for that few
minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like some one renting a room and making
Himself at home for a short while.
The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be
God's. His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's.
I slipped the brush back in the bag and went around the chair to face
him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knee and said,
'Sir, do you know my Jesus?'
He said, 'Yes, I do'
Well, that figures, I thought.
He explained, 'I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't
marry me until I got to know the Savior.' He said, 'you see, the
problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart
surgery and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here
thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride.'
Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when
we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand,
was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in
details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never
forget it.
Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane.. I was deeply
ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have
accompanied him on that aircraft.
I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the
airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her
cheeks. She said, 'that old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why
did you do that? What made you do that?'
I said, 'Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!'
I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted,
you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move
on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or
feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of
temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees
you as an individual. Tell Him your need!
I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many
opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way ... all
because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me
to that old man. He sent that old man to me..
John 1:14 'The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have
seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father,
full of grace and truth'
Please share this wonderful story.
If your eye is good, your whole body will be full of light........ Mt.
6:22
By God's grace I am what I am..... 1 Corinthians 15:10
'Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the
rain!'
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Anonymous lines for Mother's Day..cute
1. My mother taught me LOGIC.
"Because I said so, that's why."
2. My mother taught me CONTORTIONISM.
"Look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"
3. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"Your room looks as if a tornado went through."
4. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow
up."
"Because I said so, that's why."
2. My mother taught me CONTORTIONISM.
"Look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"
3. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"Your room looks as if a tornado went through."
4. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow
up."
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
ok ..blogger is not working from text
I signed up to be able to update my blog from texting..apparantly it did not work. So, if you received someting crazy from me, I am sorry. Hope you are all doing great. We are finishing up with our schooling, and looking forward to summertime! We have the pool open and almost ready. I am looking foward to park days and being carefree for a short while! I am sure the kids are too! over all, we have really enjoyed our first year homeschooling and I would not go back to the way things were for anything! I love being with my children and watching them learn. I feel that we have ALL grown in the Lord over the past year and I am so thankful for the priveledge to serve HIM! Hope you all have a great week!
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