A Few of FR's Finest....Every Day....Hall of Fame #18

A Few of FR's Finest archives | January 9, 2007 | Billie

[Billie]

[Billie]

[Anne of DC]

Two words

RAVENS RULE!

[DollyCali]

Happy Birthday to US!

thanks for doing all this work to keep us organized Billie!

great pledge & each time see it I comment how much i like the corduroy looking background in table.

snow falling here..terrible loss for the Buckeyes last night. The Gators clearly outplayed us & with a lot of class.

[sageb1]

A nice way to start the morning. You do such a beautiful job on the graphics!

[NicknamedBob]

They used to see my freckles when they looked at me,
And waves of curly hair upon my head.
My eyes would just be squinting out, below my knitted brows,
Some even thought my hair a shade of red.

Sun-bleached, I guess it was, because later it turned muddy brown,
And no one called me “carrot top” again.
I liked to think about the way things worked.
Deducing that I had a furnace in my skin.

It was right there in my belly, it rumbled so sometimes,
And its warmth was quite apparent, I can say.
However cold my hands became, my belly was still warmer,
Thanks to all the fuel I sent its way.

My mother always swore that I could grow potatoes,
In darkened furrows when I held my skinny elbows out..
I liked potatoes, but they never quite took root,
Erosion from the frequent storms of baths, no doubt.

I don’t know about the other boys, but dirt was my companion,
My plaything for the little cars and men.
I built the roads they traveled on, and tunnels,
Road-building was less time-consuming then.

I still have marbles that I played with, then,
I haven’t lost them all quite yet.
And hopscotch was another thing I did,
And I could probably beat you at it, I bet!

You’ll notice I defined low maintenance,
Except for quantities of food and soap,
For clothing that I got from here and there,
And a corner where I hid to dream and hope.

I remember ice-cream that we worked to make,
And fevers that I sweated out at night,
My Dad’s rough hands that rubbed my itchy back,
And always knowing things would be alright.

These things that I remember comfort me,
They gather round my thoughts at end of day,
But just like then I am not ready for my bed,
I’m still alive inside here, come and play!

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . September 19, 2006

They used to see my freckles when they looked at me,
And waves of curly hair upon my head.
My eyes would just be squinting out, below my knitted brows,
Some even thought my hair a shade of red.

Sun-bleached, I guess it was, because later it turned muddy brown,
And no one called me “carrot top” again.
I liked to think about the way things worked.
Deducing that I had a furnace in my skin.

It was right there in my belly, it rumbled so sometimes,
And its warmth was quite apparent, I can say.
However cold my hands became, my belly was still warmer,
Thanks to all the fuel I sent its way.

My mother always swore that I could grow potatoes,
In darkened furrows when I held my skinny elbows out..
I liked potatoes, but they never quite took root,
Erosion from the frequent storms of baths, no doubt.

I don’t know about the other boys, but dirt was my companion,
My plaything for the little cars and men.
I built the roads they traveled on, and tunnels,
Road-building was less time-consuming then.

I still have marbles that I played with, then,
I haven’t lost them all quite yet.
And hopscotch was another thing I did,
And I could probably beat you at it, I bet!

You’ll notice I defined low maintenance,
Except for quantities of food and soap,
For clothing that I got from here and there,
And a corner where I hid to dream and hope.

I remember ice-cream that we worked to make,
And fevers that I sweated out at night,
My Dad’s rough hands that rubbed my itchy back,
And always knowing things would be alright.

These things that I remember comfort me,
They gather round my thoughts at end of day,
But just like then I am not ready for my bed,
I’m still alive inside here, come and play!

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . September 19, 2006

[GodBlessUSA]

Good Morning Billie
Thank you :) This is lovely. I'll enjoy revisiting these threads today.

[Anne of DC]

Hello Dolly!

Sorry! couldn't resist!

How can I make my posts show up in purple in honor of those fabulous RAVENS who are going ALL THE WAY to the SUPER BOWL this year!

MARK MY WORDS! LOL!

As I said to Billie earlierRAVENS RULE!

[Anne of DC]

Howdy!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

[Anne of DC]

Hellow!

Happy New Year

I guess I can still say that :o)

[Anne of DC]

What's with the meerkat at the top?

[NicknamedBob]

Hi, Anne!

We need to get together and initiate the new restaurant that opened down the street from you.

Back later.

[Anne of DC]

Yep!

"seeya"

[DollyCali]

How can I make my posts show up in purple in honor of those fabulous RAVENS who are going ALL THE WAY to the SUPER BOWL this year!

easy.. just do this!

for directions:

http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/news/802064/posts

more HTML instruction "links" on my profile page but what you want for COLOR is here at the above link

[DollyCali]

:^)

[The Mayor]

January 9, 2007

Plans And Realities

ODB RADIO: Listen Now | Download

READ: Proverbs 16:1-9

A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. —Proverbs 16:9

When I went to Moody Bible Institute as an 18-year-old, I enrolled in the pastors program. I could picture myself preaching and leading a church just as my home church pastor was doing. Then, after hearing about the five faithful missionaries to the Auca Indians who were tragically killed in Ecuador, I even considered dedicating my life to missions.

But God had a different course laid out for me. Through His clear leading, and in accordance with the gifts He had given me, I became a teacher, editor, and writer.

Most of us have had similar experiences. We think ahead and carefully work out a plan. We picture in our minds with great detail how our future is going to unfold. But things don’t go as planned. Some doors close, while others open. If this happens to you, it may be that God has something completely different in mind.

It’s good to plan and dream and think ahead. But we must always be open to God-appointed changes in direction. “A man’s heart plans his way,” Solomon wrote, “but the Lord directs his steps” (Prov. 16:9).

God will never mislead us. When we trust Him with all our heart, He will direct our paths (Prov. 3:5-6). His way is always best.

Should mystery enshroud His plan
And our short sight be dim,
We will not try the whole to scan
But leave each thread to Him.  —Murray

Where God’s finger points,  His hand will make the way.

Bible in One Year:   Genesis 23-24; Matthew 7

[Anne of DC]

Thanks!

[GodBlessUSA]

Hi Anne
Happy New Year! :) I'm still writing 06 still very new to me ;)

[GodBlessUSA]

Good Morning The Mayor :)

[GodBlessUSA]

Good Morning Dolly :)
Funny weather, You have snow now after a weekend almost like spring. It's much colder here also.