tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6696795773087625502024-02-02T19:54:53.768-05:00Hoping to DanceCady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-57266436562097969672010-09-08T18:27:00.005-04:002010-09-08T18:49:33.816-04:00Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>On July 23, 2010 one of my greatest dreams came true. I got to marry the most incredible man in the world.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I had been dreaming of this day my entire life and couldn't believe that it was finally coming true for me. I spent so many days wondering if I would ever meet the right man for me or if I would be alone forever. Every time I look at Casey, every time I snuggle up to him, I see God's awesome love and care for me. How did I ever get so lucky? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The whole week before the wedding was full of fun wedding festivities. We got to have all of our family and friends together to celebrate and it was one of the most incredible and humbling experiences of my life. Never again will we get to have all of these people in the same room again. It was so special and we'll remember it forever!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy34Kc2udICYq8v7o3Pvghy5H_X0yv-4SyLh3GvIYMGJKuSmilsnlLMA1Gb7Ye1KVYq_KNqEe7wnWGsykUR8_OKpS4hCHXi7TAGVF9DYFPX4RXxgBGYgqBjxsYMW7mAxLopA2Zt14wh91v/s400/38611_554537107646_161500448_32583798_7790762_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514673824139288994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This picture was taken after the rehearsal dinner. All the bridesmaids were hanging out at my house during Casey's bachelor party. My dad got home from the bachelor party and climbed in bed with us. He just say for a while and watched all the girls running around his house, painting our nails, picking out shoes and laughing as we anticipated what would happen the next day. I think poor Dan was a little overwhelmed. This was such a sweet moment.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigNATYJEv7WFVDsAXV8yzO1KBWMlz4rWIQ7fyeah4xECCSgUSTzQNBZw4dXZVBabG5wRGdG_Zq0CTyiBmQHSNyK29ppCR2CQY5sKByDKVUp-y0YNRwrfcC_RZ22eXm8tUlBTM5iFSNwgez/s400/37809_667588904335_1412477_38144028_2053551_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514676197634100626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Here is a picture of all of the bridesmaids from IWU. I have known Libbie my entire life but Jess, Jess, and Debra were friends that I met at college. The three of them made the 7 hour drive from Indianapolis to be a part of the wedding and I am so thankful that they did! I love them dearly and the day would not have been the same without them there.</span></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr6dZlaMTfd2s0XfFZ2fYR3FYm8ePP7dz0mVFRjyxr-nxl7Ta3wSKCES7FaRFPpCJBPP0cDme4v6zzomub-jMhMc68dmpSrcwEmEjucwtaWWNOomsF4qHqlizaffaUnYG5acrgOaLU685/s400/39511_554536399066_161500448_32583761_31440_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514676215099562978" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">All of the bridesmaids at the rehearsal dinner.</span></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcJtnN6BHmasPNwhJFTWUNQ-Lq_IDp75AwM7IP1FEcMGShlpAD7Hg58gUZ9gJYHaQthyStt69TIUR4RSgTIl0sencAkRzmFftIPm0MPArrp8_CnVuLaRIocIYr_HeOQntulWlnvbLjxvP/s400/40240_667589258625_1412477_38144035_6183707_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514676207113385522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Showing off our legs...and our shoes (for those of us that were actually wearing them).</span></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG5uh6O4PkdOVwwevOX7B6dRUIuddC-Z7CZ1dtAkbuI_07EIAA9mVylSKLyUjVt0ZBUq6xawXyGy1qBGl7puCRjwb0cTJbMYE5ynfawid_uc9tAz16NE9qMSjeCrZUJpDw0CwgE2wnvqre/s400/37809_667588899345_1412477_38144027_5961238_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514676222306165538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This photo is a little blurry but this is Case and I at our rehearsal. We were so excited the whole time, we could hardly stand it. The adrenaline that accompanies such a big event like this is totally overwhelming. We couldn't wait for the next day to come so we could become Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wxieajFXs_O3VWH10Rqv90k9-134uLhUTFpPHoq33puXjDP1xhz8G5K_esQfLYYkuEc5hJs4HvR7Dl0PKF1SCAVzE8RqqgZylaJEZN3_tzZ3et5-Y8l0WT5Q9f0bV0vYY3kqVUHGYC08/s400/37809_667588894355_1412477_38144026_4226836_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514676237262306194" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">All my bridesmaids got into town and on Wednesday night we had a bachelorette party. Crissa (my maid of honor) and Jennie (my matron of honor) threw such a fun and beautiful party! We laughed, danced and had a great time!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It was such a special week. I couldn't have asked for anything better and I'm so thankful for all of the people that made the trip to Iowa to celebrate with us!</span></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-2161972979920762462009-12-10T11:28:00.005-05:002009-12-10T12:23:53.599-05:00An Introduction...<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">For those of you that don't live in Iowa you should know that we were hit by a huge blizzard two nights ago and I am currently 100% snowed into my house. My car is not going anywhere, my dog can barely get outside and my days consist of baking, reading, and watching Top Chef re-runs on Bravo. So, I figured I would take some time away from my demanding schedule to update you on some very important things that have happened lately. I also wanted to introduce you to the most important person in my life. Are you ready for that? This is going to be a long, mushy, awesome story so I suggest you either kindly move along to another more interesting website OR grab a cup of tea, cozy up, and settle in.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You still there?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">OK. Good. Here we go....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The last few years have been a complete whirlwind for me. I went through some HUGE life changes, some big losses, I mourned, I rejoiced, I celebrated, I cried. My life has been a roller coaster of sorts from the time I graduated high school until now. Let's back up to last year. If you have read this blog at all in the pas</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">t you have probably read my "Snow Globe" post about losing my job in Indiana. Let's just say, after that loss I thought my life was over. It caused me to doubt my call to ministry, doubt my leadership abilities and in some ways it even caused me to question my faith. After much searchi</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">ng, praying and waiting God made it clear that I was supposed to move home to Waterloo, Iowa, my hometown. He didn't give me a reason why. He just said, "Go and trust." To make a long story short, I moved home on May 13, 2009 with no job, no hope of a job, no plan and no motivation.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Four days later God revealed Himself to me in a BIG way. A big 6'4", size 15 foot, handsome, kind smiled, Manicorn kind of way.</span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRR_HTF7dwZFu40Xsdvb75AL60rLetT-9W9ikYbpgVgWPovCYe9qSRr0ZYGAmc7xeijl5WPv-ARBNDQMe0goSNX1HosBYI8WT8vaYr1Fc1elOvzO6ceFOCP5cgzdaarukoSAy-TWPciBTL/s400/5300_534719242806_161501051_31880055_3550424_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413649284826804514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px; " /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This is Casey Douglas Schmidt, the reason I lost my job, the reason I moved home to Waterloo, Iowa, and the reason God told me to wait so many times. When I was lonely and confused and feeling like I would end up as an old maid, God told me to wait. And THIS, this is why. I had no idea the kind of man that God was saving for me. This man is the answer to so many questions, the reason to so many unknowns and the love of my life. He is my future husband. Casey Douglas Schmidt. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">We met on a blind date set up by his cousin and my best friend. I have been on many a blind date in my life so I went into this one with a "Well, my life has already gone to crap so if it's bad at least I'll get some good entertainment out of it" attitude. I thought, "I've got nothing to lose." (Bad blind dates always make for good stories at parties. People love a good blind date story.) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Casey called me on a Saturday night. He lived two hours away but called to tell me that he was on his way to Waterloo to meet me. He wanted to take me to coffee the next day. For crying out loud, this guy was moving quick. NOTE: </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">to all of my male readers out there, this was a GOOD move on his part. He totally grabbed the reigns, made a plan and took a huge risk. It stood out to me and I knew that he was serious. This is one of the million things that won me over right away. The man knew what he wanted and he went after it. (p.s. I'm 97% sure that Casey is my only male reader.) </span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I could go on for days but I'll try to make this quick. We met at Cup o' Joe in Cedar Falls, Iowa. We talked for over two hours. It felt like we had been there for five minutes. Our conversation was not awkward, it was not draining and uncomfortable. It flowed from subject to subject without any effort. As we were talking I remember staring at him and thinking, "Who is this man? I have to get to know him more." I wanted to hear everything about him, learn every fact about his life and hear every passion in his heart. He was the most genuine and authentic person I had ever met. He was unlike any other person I had ever spoken with. Every word that came out of his mouth was intentional, meaningful and so so heartfelt. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I called my best friend after our date and told her that I was amazed by the way he spoke to me. He talked about God in a way that was completely new to me. He wasn't showy or legalistic about it. I remember telling her that it seemed like God was such a huge and intimate part of his life that every story Casey told me, every question he asked me was saturated with his love for Christ and his desire to be a man of God. He was so humble and kind. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And lemme tell ya, the kid is a looker. Let's just say I was pleasantly surprised when I walked in and saw that the most handsome man in the place was sitting, waiting just for me. He's irresistible. Moving on...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Casey and I obviously hit it off right away. We began talking on the phone for four to five hours a night. He drove the two hours to my house once a week and I drove the two hours his house once a week. We were quickly falling in love. After three weeks I introduced him to my dad, at 6 weeks I told him I loved him, after 3 months he moved to Waterloo to be closer to me, after five months we drove to Indiana to meet my friends and on our six month anniversary we were engaged.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvcb3g5Qty3tQN6iBgXfKsKhSoq41n04myFkv1G4NPEaa4TWx1zU76UNOkC7_e_jGMx-a3o_UrInmXd4lCTXcoVOKE8Rx1gnp8dKu5ez6nweLr4TU1MXcKXj5torZ6z5n76Sd3OdLdxV0/s1600-h/Photo+37.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvcb3g5Qty3tQN6iBgXfKsKhSoq41n04myFkv1G4NPEaa4TWx1zU76UNOkC7_e_jGMx-a3o_UrInmXd4lCTXcoVOKE8Rx1gnp8dKu5ez6nweLr4TU1MXcKXj5torZ6z5n76Sd3OdLdxV0/s400/Photo+37.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413656017774589250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Don't get me wrong, there have definitely been trials, struggles and hurdles. But the thing that amazes me, the thing that makes me know this is going to work is the fact that God brought us together. I have been praying for my future husband since I was 13 years old and my parents have been praying for him since I was born. However, my prayer changed last year. My prayer went from, "God bring me my husband. I'm ready to settle down, I'm lonely. I'm ready to love someone." to "God, I give this up to you. I have a desire in my heart that I believe was placed there by you and I surrender it. Take this desire and do with it what you want. You are enough to fulfill me. Bring me my husband in your perfect timing. Help me to wait on you. I give you control. Do whatever you have to do to make this happen or (and this was the hardest part) prepare me for the possibility that his may never happen. I will love you the same either way." That prayer of surrender was not easy for me. I wanted to be in control. I wanted to choose who I was going to be with. But I realized that I had to give it up. I had to allow God to be in control not only of my relationships but also of the very desires in my heart. I had to surrender.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It was not an easy journey. I went through heartbreak, loss and many, many nights of tears and loneliness. But now I think about God's amazing faithfulness, about how He has always provided for me, He has never left me and He continues to bless me even in the midst of confusion and doubt. I look at Casey and I see God's love. I see God in him and I am humbled every time. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsd87l5AH085jpbn9r4YGpz2xQN_cS2yQb6w-WCHkKLxwkwrdSK2743ig8GcU0ZZbx3jgXC8HNZUittADfxJQqidkONe3DFVCuQHQicXvGQ7cyQoMo-emMbhq13seXONjz5dLgrl9t2KE1/s400/100_1207.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413659096876495826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I can't wait to be Mrs. Schmidt. I feel so undeserving, so honored and so excited to be able to live life with the most incredible man I have ever met. He teaches me new things every day, he shows me how to live a Christ-centered life, he brings out my passion for ministry and he encourages me to use my gifts and talents. He calls out my beauty and he makes me want to share myself with others. God works through my man every day in ways that Casey is not even aware of. I don't know what makes me deserving of this but I am so so thankful. I am absolutely amazed and forever changed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzR6VcBCUzft8Gy_mVLD-J2eXnWYKAhEZ3y2V9HuvxCLBqyOoKONj5827de4g1BtXVdtR_iZnKadZy7fid8EFoA835v20J5do2wyyjVisz3ZJkl8tJxvgV-ZB8dZIT1b9n9E6fR3qtwgR/s1600-h/100_1328.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzR6VcBCUzft8Gy_mVLD-J2eXnWYKAhEZ3y2V9HuvxCLBqyOoKONj5827de4g1BtXVdtR_iZnKadZy7fid8EFoA835v20J5do2wyyjVisz3ZJkl8tJxvgV-ZB8dZIT1b9n9E6fR3qtwgR/s400/100_1328.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413659103258782370" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And this is just an introduction...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRR_HTF7dwZFu40Xsdvb75AL60rLetT-9W9ikYbpgVgWPovCYe9qSRr0ZYGAmc7xeijl5WPv-ARBNDQMe0goSNX1HosBYI8WT8vaYr1Fc1elOvzO6ceFOCP5cgzdaarukoSAy-TWPciBTL/s1600-h/5300_534719242806_161501051_31880055_3550424_n.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-52160458171442926332009-07-04T09:45:00.006-04:002009-07-04T10:27:10.352-04:00Praying for Kate<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is Kate <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">McRae</span>.</span><br /><u><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#800080;"></span></u><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ese3zYZ-NA4"></a><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354601181089640530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEityyV7450es8y7M8F26cUHgSvdFU6WQ8F6Mlod1yyK7MPA6OmRrUCUNk5NFnsYhs9JFIKfLMgLsUrHm0-u5XN4wDZKoGJl8O0eRVGl8TBecxXiRalS1S30hib2LZI_6j50jPehMpVEYilM/s400/l_PtDgZXZvwbUFEUEd.jpg" /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am asking all of you to join with me in praying for this beautiful, precious little girl. Kate <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">McRae</span> is a five year old girl living in Phoenix, Arizona. Her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">grandparents</span> and aunt are dear friends of my family. Carrie, Kate's aunt, means more to me than she could ever know. When I try to explain my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">relationship</span> with her I have a hard time putting it into words. I tell people she was my high school mentor but she was and is so much more than that. In high school I spent a lot of time at Carrie's house caring for her sweet little boys. I got to know little Kate when she just a little peanut. When Carrie's family would come into town sometimes I would babysit the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">grand kids</span> while the adults spent time together. Although I didn't get to spend very much time with Kate, I know how precious she is and how much fun she is to be around. This family has a special place in my heart and it breaks me to know that they are hurting. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Kate's Grandpa Brian is a dear friend of my dad's. When my mom passed away Brian was there to do anything we needed him to do. I remember him sitting by the window in my living room talking to my dad. The one thing my dad really, really wanted was for our old pastor to fly in and preach at my mom's ceremony. Brian promised to make it happen. He made the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">arrangements</span>, he brought Pastor Tim to our house and he did it all without even thinking. He is just that kind of person. He didn't expect anything in return and he didn't look for any type of thanks. This is just one example of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Boucks</span>' care for us. Brian has been a great friend to my dad even when I'm sure it hasn't been easy. My dad speaks of him with incredible respect and love. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now this family needs our help. Kate is the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">daughter</span> of Holly, Brian's daughter. On Monday night she was taken to the hospital because her parents noticed a tremor in her hand. Since then she has been diagnosed with a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">malignant</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">aggressive</span> brain tumor. Last night she underwent surgery to remove as much of the tumor as possible. As of right now, Kate has regained <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">consciousness</span> but has lost movement in her right side. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">After reading Holly's updates on the family's Caring Bridge website this morning I want you all to pray with me. We obviously need to be praying for healing. We need to pray for comfort for this family. We need to pray for the doctors to have wisdom. We need to pray for strength and renewed faith in a God who heals. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I want you to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">specifically</span> pray with me for Kate's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">understanding</span> of all of this. Her mom wrote about how Kate wakes up crying and is incredibly afraid right now. I can't imagine what it would be like to be so little, so young, and so sick. Please pray that Kate's fears will be calmed and that she will find some sort of peace. She is a bright and beautiful girl with parents that absolutely love and adore her. Pray that her fears would calm and that she would be able to rest easy. I am asking God to calm Kate in a way that is noticeable to all of the friends and family that are with her right now in Phoenix. I am praying that she would be able to take a deep breath and feel a heavy weight lifted off of her little chest. This morning I am praying for calm. I am praying for peace. I am praying for rest for Kate and her family. Please pray with me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354601175523747586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrBSYWf0mtXfXtrph4JxIu6ttXUW0XmzPdqYbiHGeEFS_DbPBQuS4gDcJYfOQE84lOZcRu8ONixvFbHMc1iCZpNVG2MTfZDz2cn9F0ox3df5wg9wfknkK01CI3zHcxRXo6QLZCSuMJ7XrF/s400/l_HOHckwhtYfaCvphh.jpg" /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Click this link to see a video of Kate's parents asking for prayer. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ese3zYZ-NA4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ese3zYZ-NA4</a></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Follow the link below to Kate's caring bridge site.</span><br /><a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/mcraekate</span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Please continue to lift up this little girl in prayer. Pray for her family, her doctors, her friends and please pray for healing. I have no other words to type, no other thoughts running through my head. I'm just shocked, sad, hopeful and waiting. Please pray.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span></p>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-66018107885361816262009-06-22T17:18:00.001-04:002009-06-22T17:18:33.134-04:00Isaiah 48:18-19<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; font-size: 17px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px; ">"But the Lord says, 'Forget the things that happened in the past. Do not keep on thinking about them. I am about to do something new. It is beginning to happen even now. Don't you see it coming? I am going to make a way for you to go through the desert. I will make streams of water in the dry and empty land'."</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-87835791303362986662009-06-22T16:29:00.007-04:002009-06-22T19:50:37.601-04:00My Life As an Unemployed Twenty-Something.<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Lately my life has seemed to be anything but predictable. I came back to Iowa a month and a half ago thinking that I would rest for a week, find a job, get an apartment, make new friends and start my life over as an independent, young professional. My plan was to set up interviews, send out a thousand resumes, impress potential employers with my expertise and wit and get right back into the working world. I was focused on one thing when I moved home: finding a job and finding it fast.<br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now after weeks of job searching I am starting to realize once again that I suck at making plans. My plans never work. My plan a year ago was to be living in Indianapolis right now, working at Fall Creek and spending the summer with my best friends. When those plans changed I made a plan to move home, find a job and start my life here. I make plans and I work hard and I aim for success. Yet somehow I am sitting here, on the big chair in my Dad's den wearing pajamas, with no make up on my face and a Diet Coke in my hand. This is not good, people. This is NOT. GOOD. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">When I stop and think about my situation for more than five minutes I start to look like this:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivqMBbQT3vEDZUkSgfROx3Gi-USyJUgdgsCGvQXiKObbCSZHZupswDH2DJ6oSvJYHta1yxYdOuChoESkf66tqKVEndi2E6BBSW4ZKf6jvh8ZM-6u1Oqg_Wysl9Uw1dn5IloaEg3VgTYAVT/s1600-h/n161501051_30959542_8450.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350257369624272610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivqMBbQT3vEDZUkSgfROx3Gi-USyJUgdgsCGvQXiKObbCSZHZupswDH2DJ6oSvJYHta1yxYdOuChoESkf66tqKVEndi2E6BBSW4ZKf6jvh8ZM-6u1Oqg_Wysl9Uw1dn5IloaEg3VgTYAVT/s400/n161501051_30959542_8450.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This picture was taken three summers ago when my sister and I were in Chicago trying to find her an apartment. We had been driving somewhat aimlessly all day, talking to realtors and getting things put in place for her to move to the Windy City. It was about a million degrees outside and the last apartment we had seen was occupied by five dudes who were all home and asleep at 3:00 in the afternoon. The place reeked of weed and stale beer. There were Bob Marley posters on the wall, black lights in each of the bedrooms and some very suspicious looking pipes and aluminum foil on the coffee table. I was definitely not impressed and desperately wanting to take a shower to scrub their filth off my body. (I legitimately feared that I may have contracted Hepatitis or some other type of questionable infection simply by touching their doorknob.) </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But we didn't have time for such luxuries. We were on a mission and we would stop for no one. I, being the annoying little sister that I am, started to whine and complain. My big sister calmed me down and explained that everything would be fine. We just needed to find a clean place to eat, sit in the air conditioning for a while, wash our hands and continue our journey.<br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I remember being skeptical at the time, thinking that my life was over and I would never be healed from the distress that her little house hunting trip had caused me. I remember telling her that I was going to just DIE if we didn't take a break and relax for a while because I can only take SO MUCH weed, blistering heat and exposure to black lights and I had had just about enough. Lucky for me I had my big sister to lean on during my time of weakness and she carried me through, keeping me calm until I got some food in my stomach and shut my mouth while she mapped out our plan for the rest of the day. That's what she always does. She always takes care of me and she always talks (sometimes smacks) sense into me when I need it. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But now my sister is a trillion miles away. She's living in Patagonia in the middle of winter, spending her days teaching and making new friends while I sit in our parents' house and attempt to count all of my split ends (which could, for all intents and purposes, but considered a full time job). I have realized in the last few weeks that I have no choice but to deal with this big mess on my own. I don't have anyone to bail me out right now. My big sister isn't going to swoop in and comfort me, my dad isn't going to save the day and my friends can't dig me out of this hole. I'm here and I'm waiting and I'm alone. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I am forced to listen to God's voice and shut up for five minutes so He can speak to me. As much as I hate it, I know that this is exactly where I am supposed to be. I am supposed to be in Waterloo, Iowa. I am supposed to be unemployed for the moment and I am supposed to be giving my burdens up to God rather than trying to make superficial plans and follow inconsequential dreams. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Here I am. I'm sitting. I'm waiting. I'm shutting up and I'm listening. And right now, that's all I can do.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I get frustrated and annoyed with my situation but I also rejoice in the fact that God has a greater plan for me. He has blessed me beyond belief since I have been home and I know that he will continue to do so. Although I haven't found a job I have found other answers to prayer. God has allowed me to meet new people that I otherwise never would have known. He has provided opportunities for me to serve others and has given me a chance to spend some great time with my dad. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Since I have been home a lot of things have happened that were totally unexpected to me. I have been absolutely shocked more than once by the creativity, extreme love and overwhelming provision displayed by my Heavenly Father. I have moments where I want to scream and moments where I do cry, but I also have moments where I want to fall on my face and praise the God that cares so deeply for me. I am overwhelmed by His grace and His all encompassing love. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I know that God is bigger than this. He's bigger than my situation, He's bigger than my concerns and He is bigger than my desires. He promises to take care of me and He never ceases to amaze me. I will wait for His guidance and I will seek His face as I learn how to be patient.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">He who has promised is faithful.</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-26965023951157351822009-03-27T00:11:00.003-04:002009-03-27T00:21:49.894-04:00Snow Globe<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:12px;"><table id="posts" class="posts" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); width: 100%; border-collapse: collapse; clear: both; background-color: white; font-size: 120%; "><tbody><tr class=" selected" style="background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-top-width: 2px; border-right-width: 2px; border-bottom-width: 2px; border-left-width: 2px; border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-right-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); background-position: initial initial; "><td class="title" onclick="setSelected(this, '6747399759214200631')" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-right: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 93%; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); line-height: 18px; width: 100%; vertical-align: top; cursor: pointer; "><div class="postContents" style="margin-left: 23px; "><div class="entirePost" style="display: inline; ">On Wednesday morning my world was flipped upside down. </div></div><div class="postContents" style="margin-left: 23px; "><div class="entirePost" style="display: inline; ">As most of you know, I have been working at a church in Indiana since I graduated last April. I have blogged more than once about my experiences there, about the kids that I love so dearly and about the friends that I have made. This church, these people, have become a huge part of who I am. They have become like family to me, accepting me into their community and loving me right where I am. They have given me the INCREDIBLE privilege of being able to care for their children and teach them about God. I was informed yesterday that this privilege has ended, my time at this church is over, and that in a few weeks I will no longer be a part of the community that I have loved so much. When I heard this news I felt as though I was trapped inside a snow globe, like someone picked up my entire world, flipped it upside down and shook it around violently while all of the pieces floated to the floor. Needless to say, I am heart broken. Even now I am writing with tears streaming down my face and a big, fat lump in my throat. I can not imagine leaving these people that I love so much. I can't fathom the thought of leaving the Hines boys, two of the most intelligent and kind hearted little boys I have ever met. I can not imagine leaving Luke Wilson, a boy with a sweet, sensitive spirit and a kind heart unlike anyone I have ever known. I cry when I think about saying goodbye to Sophia Finklea and Ali Upchurch, two amazing little girls who don't have the slightest idea how beautiful they really are. I wonder who is going to blow kisses at Katie Gue in the hallway and who is going to tease Owen Gerig when he looks up with his big puppy dog eyes. I love the children of this church as if they were my own and I can't even begin to understand how difficult it is going to be to say goodbye to them. I want so badly to be able to explain this transition to them and to help them understand that I am not leaving because of them. I am not leaving because they are not good enough or because they did something wrong. I want them to know that they are worth the world to me and that they are absolutely, without a doubt, 100% irreplaceable. I think about the year that I have spent serving this church and I cry knowing that I will never again have an experience like this. I am grieving this incredible loss and praying that God helps me to cope and persevere in a way that honors him. I have realized in the last 36 hours that other than my mother's death, this is by far the most devastating loss that I have ever experienced. I feel as though a part of me is lost and a chunk of my heart is missing. I want so badly to honor God in the next few weeks and bring glory to Him as I transition out of this phase of my life and on to the next one. I am praying that He provides me with positive closure and a chance to say a proper goodbye to my kids. I'm asking God to give me the strength that I need to finish out my time at Fall Creek in a way that portrays His love and spreads compassion. I am praying that the church succeeds in their new approach to ministry and I am praying that God takes good care of my kids after I leave. </div></div><div class="postContents" style="margin-left: 23px; "><div class="entirePost" style="display: inline; ">This is an extremely difficult thing to deal with but I know that God has a plan for me. I have no idea what that plan is right now, but I do know that God has brought me through uncertain times before and He will most definitely do it again. I'm thanking Him for allowing me to spend a year with some truly amazing and loving people and that He has protected me as I have journeyed through some difficult moments in ministry. I serve an awesome and powerful God and I know that He is in control of all of this. He will provide for me when things look tough and He has enough grace, compassion, love and strength to bring me through this time. I am comforted knowing that I am not alone, that God understands my hurt and that He is willing to take my broken heart from me and hold me in His arms while I heal. His love is greater than any heartache I will ever experience. I feel honored to have been able to serve at Fall Creek and I anxiously await God's new plan for my life. I know that never once in this whole process have I ever been forgotten or overlooked by Him. He knows exactly what is going to happen next and He will never leave me, nor forsake me.<br /><br />He who has promised is faithful.</div></div></td><td class="type" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 93%; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); line-height: 18px; vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-left: 0.5em; "></td><td class="type" style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; padding-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-size: 93%; padding-top: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); line-height: 18px; vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-left: 0.5em; "></td></tr></tbody></table></span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-72362383363117300232009-03-16T22:00:00.009-04:002009-03-16T23:54:59.762-04:00How to Eat Humble Pie...<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The past few days have been full of embarrassing moments for me. What's the deal, anyway? Is it the recent change in climatic pressure? Is it the fact that I haven't slept in about 472 days? Is it the fact that I have always been a prideful, snooty little stink-pot and God is finally trying to send me a big, fat message? </span><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I hear you, God. I'm listening. I see the giant, neon sign flashing 6 inches in front of me. I GOT IT. The joke is over.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Let's back this train right on up. It all started last Thursday night. I came home from work to find a note on the door of my apartment that read, "We were here to fix your dryer but were unable to reach the attic door because of the things in the closet. Please move things around and we will be back to fix the dryer soon." I was MORTIFIED. You see, the attic is located in the storage closet which is located in my bedroom. One must walk through my bedroom in order to get to said closet. The only problem was that my room was an awful disaster. It looked as if <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">this</span> had recently passed through:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QcsFqROdtKIlQrujpmyy_bmHhqGBD-6DkmeYkfzlp0LxMTQqgErmo1AJDVY_9xyZReIH6g4cuWDyEM-ixbYbhcnlzw5TfUKQzfRtBldHmtadKzBU0LYNlxkf81XNK1HofZD6L8gFhCZ6/s400/tornado_nguyen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313973675777736082" /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">(</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">minus the rainbow</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">).</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Let's just say it was....a mess...with my "unmentionables" strewn about.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I could not believe that this poor, unsuspecting maintenance man had to walk through the pit that was my bedroom. Immediately after reading his note I vowed to clean my room the next day (my day off). I swallowed my pride, gave myself a good, stern talking-to and went to bed.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Fast forward to approximately 10am Friday morning. I was laying in my bed snoozing away. I was actually having a very trippy dream, but I don't remember what it was because that's what happens when you are awakened unexpectedly by the sound of a man's voice INSIDE YOUR BEDROOM. I pulled my mask off of my sleepy eyeballs and prayed that the covers were in all the right places, as I have a tendency to kick them off in my sleep. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">The dryer-fixer (who happened to be my age) was shocked, to say the least when he saw me there. I tried to look him in the face, forgetting that I am BLIND AS A BAT when I'm not wearing my spectacles. I told him that we had not yet moved the things in the closet and could he please leave before I puked from the panic that had suddenly ensued within my person. (Ok I didn't say that last part). But I think he got the message. He stuttered something and then stumbled out of my bedroom in a state of shock and awe. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And must I reveal to you the worst part? My room was still a mess and my unmentionables were still strewn about. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What did I have for breakfast on the morn' of March 13th, 2009? A big, fat piece of humble pie, that's what.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now don't you worry. This is not the end of my humiliations as of late. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This morning started off like every other morning of my life since I was 10 years old. I woke up 15 minutes late and ran around like a crazy person trying to get ready and get all my stuff out the door in due time. I decided to skip makeup and throw my hair back with some bobby pins. I grabbed some random clothes out of my closet and ran out the door and down the three flights of CEMENT stairs to the parking lot. I was but two steps from the ground when I realized that my shoe was a little bit too big. My foot slipped right out of my shoe, but mind you, I did NOT have time to deal with such an unfortunate mishap, as I was already running late. Therefore I attempted to get my foot back in my shoe in mid-step. I stepped to the ground at an extremely awkward angle and my ankle completely gave out. I slammed to the ground, landing on my right knee and bracing myself with my hand. This was not a graceful fall, people. It was the type of thing I pray I witness when I am in need of a gut-busting laugh. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">As I mentioned about 18 times above, I was running late. I didn't have time to get myself together or mentally process the trauma that my poor body had just survived. Instead I stood up, shook the dirt off my jeans, grunted, gasped and caught my breath. And then I scurried out to my car, thanking my lucky stars that none of my neighbors had witnessed my clumsiness. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I used to think that </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">this girl </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">was the only one who lived through falls like this:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit247fzzuCV9E9AeHkAVESTB6vvjIlfZmJy1jRq4_6uVFqu4yVqzrg_LnWKhIgpZqPH7-kkzpnPgSRK8TuIa2slTFTkY6tpNlblIk090cC3QBP-Hk1oTCN3JEsc4RKR6A_YjcbCffQlN0_/s400/n515076379_256753_2997.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313981477424190402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Seriously, Crissa has lived through many a fall in her day. She's probably the clumsiest sister I have. And I have made fun of her almost every day of the past 22 years. One time she fell </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">up</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> the stairs when we went out to eat. She slid on her belly across the floor much like<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> this</span>:<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL93g4qfjqs9nbMVkekVJuF9UsDm3uta1d7QBzTDQcMDRjChP9gAaFH9BijIXd6YDvd2YUjuTNDBVYRHpjpmArCZeVfv6jljMWDsgYWQw-wJM5O3C2jvyfvbOuCdG2IZMFxI4LdsUm_fSl/s1600-h/3176405416_d4093a0e7c.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL93g4qfjqs9nbMVkekVJuF9UsDm3uta1d7QBzTDQcMDRjChP9gAaFH9BijIXd6YDvd2YUjuTNDBVYRHpjpmArCZeVfv6jljMWDsgYWQw-wJM5O3C2jvyfvbOuCdG2IZMFxI4LdsUm_fSl/s400/3176405416_d4093a0e7c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313981479501282418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">(only not quite as graceful).<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">So now, here I am, sitting in my apartment and nursing the giant bruise that has developed on my right knee. I'm writing this post and praying that you will all come visit me in the hospital in the coming weeks, as I fear I may need a hip replacement. ASAP.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What did I have for breakfast this morning, you ask? A big, fatty mcfat, jumbo, double helping of humble pie, that's what.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It's probably about time I lay off the sweets.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And Crissa, I'm sorry I have made fun of you for so many years, even though I do think you are unusually comical when you bite the dirt in front of politicians in Washington, DC, college students in Cedar Falls, Iowa and waiters at the Ground Round. Ahem.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Thank you. And goodnight.</span></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-64520527474566945432009-03-12T14:10:00.004-04:002009-03-13T00:40:56.673-04:00Finding the Balance<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sometimes I look at the kids that I work with and I wonder about their lives. I wonder how it must feel to wake up in the morning, put on the clothes that someone else paid for, eat breakfast prepared by an adult, go to preschool and spend time with incredible teachers, color some pictures, play on the playground, take a nap, go home, play, eat dinner cooked by an adult, play, and sleep. Sometimes I’m jealous of my kids. I wish I could trade places with the little four year old goobers. I wish I could have their innocence, their blind faith and their positive outlook on life. It’s hard for me to look at these kids and see past their sweet, hilarious, huggable exteriors. I like to imagine them all as happy little creatures who skip merrily through their perfect little lives. It’s much easier for me to sleep at night when I picture them all in their carefree, safe little bubbles.<br />But then, there are other times when my idealistic picture is shattered. There are times when I ache for my kids and the hurt that they are experiencing in their young, sweet hearts. There are days when I cry for them and I sit dumbfounded, unable to come to grips with the fact that all of their lives aren’t perfect. Some of these kids are dealing with things in their fourth year of life that I have never had to encounter in all of mine.<br />I had a conversation with a little girl on Monday afternoon. She is four years old. She loves the color purple and REALLY loves her guinea pigs. (She has two. Their names are Guinea and Pig.) I have gotten to know this little sweetheart over the last year on a deeper level than most of the kids because she sometimes stays late after all of the other kids have left. I sit with her and we talk while she waits for her Nomi (Grandma) to come. Usually we’re laughing about her guinea pigs or talking about what she did in school, but Monday night was different. As we were on the playground my little friend started talking to me about her parents. She told me that they live in different houses and that they are never going to live together again. She explained to me that her mom and dad had to move away from each other because they were fighting a lot. Then she told me that she really, really, REALLY wants them to live together but knows they can’t. She goes on to explain that it’s scary to sleep at her dad’s house because she only has one stuffed animal there. She likes to sleep at her mom’s house because that’s where the guinea pigs are and they make her feel braver. “I’m braver at that house,” she says. She talked for about five minutes or so as I blinked away my tears. I could hardly look at her precious little face as she talked so innocently about the pain she was feeling inside. I could tell that she was really conflicted. She loves both of her parents so much and it is obvious when I see her with them that they love her too. But this little girl is heart broken. She’s confused about why she can’t live in the same house with both her mom and her dad (and her guinea pigs). The worst part about all of this is that there is not one thing I can do to fix this for her. I can’t tell her that it’s going to be better soon. I can’t tell her that her pain will eventually heal. I can’t shelter her from the tough world that she lives in.<br />This is where I lose it. I understand that we live in a sinful world and that because of that sin we have pain and trials and consequences on this earth. I also know that God is perfect and that He has a plan and a purpose for everything. But it is just so hard for me to wrap my mind around situations like this. I would so much rather take the pain and the hurt away from these innocent kids than have them experience it themselves. This little girl didn’t do anything to deserve this pain.<br />I look at her and think about so many of the other kids I’ve worked with and I am reminded that this is why I’m here. This is why God has allowed me to have this job, serve in this place, and minister in the way that I do. This is my calling. This is who I am, what I love and where I want to be. I look back on painful situations in my own life like losing my mom and losing my relationship with my little brother and I know that God has allowed me to go through those things for this exact reason. I can hurt with this little girl. I know what it’s like to be confused and angry and lost and sad and how tiring it is to attempt to keep it all together. I understand what it feels like to want to be safe and oddly enough, I understand why those darn guinea pigs are so important to her.<br />Sometimes I think about the kids that I work with and I cry. I cry because of their pain, because of the fact that they’re scared, because of the way that they don’t understand their own hurts. I cry because it’s not fair and I cry because I want to save them. I don’t envy their lives. I don’t feel jealous. I just want to make it better.<br />Then I remember that, as with everything in our lives, there has to be balance. I love that I can laugh with them, play with them, run with them, sing with them and act like a kid with them. I love that the world changes when I’m with kids. Suddenly it goes from a dark and lonely place to a place full of color and laughter. At the same time I love that I can pray for them, I can speak truth to them and I can teach them about God. I can listen to them and I can comfort them. I can give them big hugs and kiss their sweet little heads and know for a brief moment that they are safe.<br />I’m learning that I can’t fix everything for them. I can’t take away their pain but I can pray for them and care for them with the gifts that God has given me. I can show them His love and pray that somehow it makes a difference in their lives. I can trust that God is faithful and that He is going to care for them in the perfect, unconditional way that only He can.<br />And then I realize that I’m slowly getting there. As hard as it is I am slowly finding the balance between sympathy and celebration, between silliness and seriousness, between anger and confusion and peace and trust. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">My job is to teach these kids. But the ironic thing is, I learn something new from them everyday. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I experience God through them.</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-23400706879787916892009-03-11T10:50:00.008-04:002009-03-11T14:58:32.138-04:00My Social Life...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm sure you have all been sitting around at least once in the last two weeks and thinking to yourself, "I wonder what Cady is doing right now?" or "I wonder who Cady is talking to right now?" Well, you can breathe easy because I am about to tell you. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As a single 22 year old woman, living in a thriving metropolis, one would think that my social calendar would be bursting at the seams; full of dates, fancy parties, spa treatments and more dates. Oh how I wish that were true for me.<br />You see, the reatlity of the situation is that round abouts 73% of the time I am having a conversation with a human under the age of 10. I affectionately call them my little goobers. Working at a preschool and running a children's ministry allows me to have some pretty hilarious conversations. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">For example, in the last week I have been greeted like this:<br />"Hi Miss Cady."<br />"Hey Miss Tady."<br />"Hey Chapel Girl."<br />"Um....um....wait. What's your name again? Uh...Teacher?"<br />And last but not least, "Hey Tootie Tot."<br />How am I supposed to respond when a 3 year old girl calls me, "Tootie Tot"? Am I supposed to take her seriously when she follows it up with a question? I think not. I laugh. I laugh a lot.<br /><br />Here is a snippet of a conversation I had with a five year old boy recently. And by recently I mean every day for the past month.<br /><br />Goober: "Miss Kay-yee? You are married."<br />Me: "No, Goober. I am not married."<br />Goober: "Yes but Miss Kay-yee. You have a boyfriend."<br />Me: "No, Goober. I do not have a boyfriend."<br />Goober: "But Miss Kay-yee. You kiss a boy."<br />Me: "No Goober. No kissing for me. You are a goober."<br />Goober: "Miss Kay-yee. Am I your boyfriend?" (<em>huge smile</em>)<br />Me: "I don't know, Goober. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />And then....Goober runs away, leaving me in the dust, on the mulch filled playground, with nothing but a broken heart. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ugh...<em>Men.</em></span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-84987766020710724942009-01-04T15:05:00.005-05:002009-01-05T23:20:51.252-05:00<span style=""><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >"Shattered dreams open the door to better dreams, dreams that we do not properly value until the dreams that we improperly value are destroyed. Shattered dreams destroy false expectations, such as the "victorious" Christian life with no real struggle or failure. They help us discover true hope. We need the help of a shattered dream to put us in touch with what we most long for, to create a felt appetite for better dreams. And living for the better dreams generates a new, unfamiliar feeling that we eventually recognize as jo</span>y."<br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >-Larry Crabb</span><br /><span style=""></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sIifg6eEG2nYBdCfvRdT5RzR4W8rQww4Io0XmpzuJR4qBFK4Zn3TIwcPJ8DxM8QPcEAdRk9_q7BuLOYHiaedxftuJAux8pO5J96Tr0ffk-AxP1f6ow9s53NNS_kj-IdFje8imdPYKx0t/s1600-h/ist2_1790604_broken_piece_of_pottery.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 380px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sIifg6eEG2nYBdCfvRdT5RzR4W8rQww4Io0XmpzuJR4qBFK4Zn3TIwcPJ8DxM8QPcEAdRk9_q7BuLOYHiaedxftuJAux8pO5J96Tr0ffk-AxP1f6ow9s53NNS_kj-IdFje8imdPYKx0t/s400/ist2_1790604_broken_piece_of_pottery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287534465495157490" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I just started reading one of my favorite books, <i style="">Shattered Dreams, </i>by Larry Crabb, again (for probably the third time.) Every time I read this book I learn something new, something more about God’s love for me. Here is a story that the author shares in the beginning of the book. It makes so much sense to me. I think it speaks a lot about God’s constant love and about our response. In the midst of devastating circumstances we can choose to worship God or attempt to do things on our own. This story reminds me that the first choice is always the greatest.<br /><br /></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"> The man’s life was pleasant. So was his worship. The two always go together.<br />God was not pleased. So He allowed the man’s life to become unpleasant. The man responded at once with shock.<span style=""> </span>“How can this be? How could this happen in my life?”<br />Beneath the shock, the man was smug. But he could not see it. He thought it was trust. “This will soon pass. God is faithful. Life will again be pleasant.” His worship remained shallow.<br />God was not pleased. So he allowed more unpleasant things to happen in the man’s life.<br /><span style=""> </span>The man tried hard to handle his frustrations well, like someone who trusted God. “I will be patient,” he resolved.<br /><span style=""> </span>But he didn’t notice that his efforts to be patient grew out of the conviction that a pleasant life was his due. He did not hear his own heart saying, “If I’m patient, God will make things pleasant again. That’s his job.”<br /><span style=""> </span>His worship became a way to convince God to restore his pleasure.<br /><span style=""> </span>God was not pleased. So He pulled back His hedge of protection around the man a little farther. The man’s life became miserable.<br /><span style=""> </span>The man got angry. God seemed unmoved, indifferent, uncaring. Heaven’s door slammed shut. The man knew he could not pry it open.<br />He could think only of better days—not of better days coming, but of better days before, days that no longer were and that showed no signs of returning.<br /><span style=""> </span>His highest dreams were a return to those days, to the pleasant life he once knew, when he felt what he had called joy.<br /><span style=""> </span>He could not imagine a higher dream than going backward to what once was. But he knew life never moved backward. Adults never become children again. Old people never recover the energy of their most productive years.<br /><span style=""> </span>So he lost hope. God had withdrawn His blessing, and there was no indication that He would change His mind.<br /><span style=""> </span>The man fell into depression. His worship stopped.<br /><span style=""> </span>God was not pleased. So He released forces of hell into the man’s life.<br /><span style=""> </span>Temptations that formerly were manageable now became irresistible. The pain of living was so great that the pleasure of temptations afforded, relief really, seemed reasonable and necessary. But after the pleasure came a new kind of pain, a kind of pain that covered his soul with a fog that not even the brightest sun could penetrate.<br /><span style=""> </span>The man could see only his pain. He could not see God. He thought he could, but the god he saw was one whose job it was to relieve pain. He could imagine this god, but he could not find him.<br /><span style=""> </span>He addressed the only god he knew. He begged for help. Beneath his words of pleading he could almost hear what his heart was saying, “You <i style="">owe</i> me help. I will never believe I deserved all this to happen. This pain is not my fault. It’s yours.”<br /><span style=""> </span>His worship had always taken the form of a demand, but now the demand was so obvious the man could almost recognize it.<br /><span style=""> </span>God was not pleased. So He let the struggles continue. And God allowed new troubles to come into the man’s life.<br /><span style=""> </span>In the part of the man’s heart that dreamed his greatest dreams, he had been certain he would never have to face these new troubles that were now in his life. For years he had said in his heart (without actually hearing it), “<i style="">That </i>could never happen to me. If it did, my life would be over. If <i style="">that </i>happened, I’d have no choice but to conclude that God isn’t good. I would have to dismiss God. And no one, not even God, could fault me.”<br /><span style=""> </span>But still the man could not hear his heart speak. What he could hear was a seductive voice that made the worst temptation he had ever faced—to lose hope in God—seem noble, bravely defiant, the only way left for the man to find himself.<br /><span style=""> </span>The battled waxed hot. But a flicker of hope remained. The man held on to his faith. Even as he did, he could not hear his heart saying, “I have every right to give up on my faith. But I’m choosing the truly noble way. I still believe in You. I still believe You’re there and that my highest hopes for joy—whatever hopes are left—lie with you. Does <i style="">that </i>impress you? If not, my God, what does?”<br /><span style=""> </span>His worship was more desperate than ever. But it was still proud.<br /><span style=""> </span>God was not pleased. So He allowed the man’s trials to continue and his pain to remain unabated. God kept His distance from the man. He provided no comfort, no tangible reason to hope. It was difficult for God not to make everything better in the man’s life. It was even more difficult for Him not to appear directly to the man and assure Him of His presence.<br /><span style=""> </span>But He didn’t. God had a greater dream for the man than a return to a pleasant life. He wanted the man to find true joy. He longed to restore the man’s hope for what mattered most. But still the man did not know what that was.<br /><span style=""> </span>The fog around the man’s soul thickened until he could feel it, like walls closing in. All that was left was mystery; there was fear certainly, even terror, but more acute was the sense of mystery, the mystery of a bad life and a good God.<br /><span style=""> </span>Where <i style="">was </i>He? When the man became most aware of his need for God, God disappeared. It made no sense. Was God there or not? If He was, did He care? Or didn’t He?<br /><span style=""> </span>The man could not give up on God. He remembered Jacob. So he began to fight. But he fought in the dark, a darkness so deep that he could no longer see his dreams of a pleasant life.<br /><span style=""> </span>In deep darkness, you cannot see. But you can hear. He could hear for the first time what his heart was saying.<br /><span style=""> </span>“Bless me!” he cried. From his deepest soul, he could hear words reflecting a resolve that would not let go of God.<br /><span style=""> </span>“Bless me! Not because I am good, but because You are good. Bless me! Not because I deserve Your blessing, but because it is Your nature to bless. You really can’t help Yourself. I appeal not to who I am. You owe me nothing. I appeal only to who You are.”<br /><span style=""> </span>He still saw his pain. But now he saw God. And the cry for blessing was no longer a demand for a pleasant life. It was a cry for whatever God wanted to do, for whoever He was. The man felt something different. It was the beginning of humility. But the very fact of what it was kept him from seeing what it was.<br /><span style=""> </span>The man had forgotten and discovered his desire for God. He did not find God right away, but he had hope, hope that he might experience what his soul most deeply longed for.<br /><span style=""> </span>Then he saw it. Fresh water bubbled up from a spring in the desert of his soul, and he saw it. It was a new dream. He could see its contours take shape. It was a dream of actually knowing God and representing Him in an unpleasant world. The dream took on a specific focus; he could know God and represent God to others in a way that was <i style="">his</i> way and not someone else’s. It felt like coming home.<br /><span style=""> </span>He realized immediately that his power to speak on behalf of God to others in the midst of their unpleasant lives depended on his speaking from the midst of his own unpleasantness. He had never before felt grateful for his troubles.<br /><span style=""> </span>His suffering became to him a doorway into God’s heart. He shared God’s pain in His great project of redemption. Suffering together for a single cause made him feel closer to God.<br /><span style=""> </span>A new thought occurred to him. “I will join with whatever forces are opposed to the root of this unpleasantness. I will ally with goodness against evil. I will not wait to see more clearly; what my hand finds to do, I will do. But I will stay close to the spring. My soul is thirsty. A pleasant life is not water for my soul; whatever comes from God—whoever is God--this is the only true water. And that is enough.<br /><span style=""> </span>The man worshiped God, and God was pleased. So God kept the water bubbling up out of the spring in the man’s soul. When the man didn’t drink every morning from that spring or return every evening to drink again, his thirst became intolerable.<br /><span style=""></span> Some things in his life got better. Some things stayed the same. Some things got worse.<br /><span style=""> </span>But the man was dreaming new dreams, greater than a pleasant life. And he found courage to pursue them. He was now a man with hope, and his hope brought joy.</p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>God was very pleased. So was the man.</p><p style="text-align: right;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >From the Book, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Shattered Dreams, </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >by Larry Crabb.</span><br /></p>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-49438437108688716282009-01-01T14:32:00.011-05:002009-01-01T23:40:41.437-05:00A Year in Review<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here’s a semi-random list of some highlights (with pictures, for you visual learners out there) from my 2008. It was a year filled with transition, change, excitement, growth and learning beginning with: </span> <ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">New Year’s in <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Florida</st1:state></st1:place> with Jen.<br /></li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUl8fX_sMEtfJeADZQKyCuTGk0HMeNuKlBmrIgLk9QoW1jDKEaw7Y2HVajRsdYfR9LEA2Jsrp5wm29QpGSXdS6FDLgP76gVjSvYMtQEjsbDlpWcZ897fHumd0IU6XHpul3PZAfPJ8j6TW/s1600-h/n209101759_30822172_5820.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUl8fX_sMEtfJeADZQKyCuTGk0HMeNuKlBmrIgLk9QoW1jDKEaw7Y2HVajRsdYfR9LEA2Jsrp5wm29QpGSXdS6FDLgP76gVjSvYMtQEjsbDlpWcZ897fHumd0IU6XHpul3PZAfPJ8j6TW/s400/n209101759_30822172_5820.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286478676827772658" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93w6HnfbhBU4qtPjM1ipZU6wrtLmqEGjA5dteCE12joVTOzRYKwKMLm7tWbTpY_VednGXAh-WkUg7H4j-BA0xyRIe88QLeR7JUar97E9zwVAACS4HRWP-2vCy_AE2pCxGZZCeo2tHeuGl/s1600-h/n209101759_30822176_6852.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93w6HnfbhBU4qtPjM1ipZU6wrtLmqEGjA5dteCE12joVTOzRYKwKMLm7tWbTpY_VednGXAh-WkUg7H4j-BA0xyRIe88QLeR7JUar97E9zwVAACS4HRWP-2vCy_AE2pCxGZZCeo2tHeuGl/s400/n209101759_30822176_6852.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286466691241632802" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">My first kiss (I’m a girl, this is a big deal)</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">My last semester living with my roommate of three years! (I could cry just thinking about it. Love you, Little Debbie!)</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQX-5D8U8fEn11vUMbHZvjhQqTgTiYGHgtePoBuqyEY1GVuIIfj6TH8Eaba2ul7Dx7SZZpCpymNnPb0WtarISDOF4VHsjFtkpxGvp7ZMcFJzq8kKR8QKsJLAgUNk25djVzEUoxdV50wiP/s1600-h/DSC01023.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQX-5D8U8fEn11vUMbHZvjhQqTgTiYGHgtePoBuqyEY1GVuIIfj6TH8Eaba2ul7Dx7SZZpCpymNnPb0WtarISDOF4VHsjFtkpxGvp7ZMcFJzq8kKR8QKsJLAgUNk25djVzEUoxdV50wiP/s400/DSC01023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286517534079376402" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb8odICvTLHoBYV-QDc_EYhqTRkKb70JtItRnK8ddQUH8OebwiebNp0YPlxvC29rlYrrRgR0pPb_9KyFwV78CsW-_XzOoiZBaGPH8KvQjGd-IHMCQDGnDtIHi5YCznVbftAoCVCBfH-J7K/s1600-h/P1100706.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb8odICvTLHoBYV-QDc_EYhqTRkKb70JtItRnK8ddQUH8OebwiebNp0YPlxvC29rlYrrRgR0pPb_9KyFwV78CsW-_XzOoiZBaGPH8KvQjGd-IHMCQDGnDtIHi5YCznVbftAoCVCBfH-J7K/s400/P1100706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286517552053149346" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXIvSxJ5J6XnsmGpqyonmgJzNlrPHQ106xgZHzfb81DFGOlO6UXLYbW8DxBok4bSsE1Q111rITr6aZ_fPSXu7CidptCmPJR8_G7HfToGgS5o0XzBygMaVebZLsz-njEK16_qJhbbCvgZjH/s1600-h/DSC01123.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXIvSxJ5J6XnsmGpqyonmgJzNlrPHQ106xgZHzfb81DFGOlO6UXLYbW8DxBok4bSsE1Q111rITr6aZ_fPSXu7CidptCmPJR8_G7HfToGgS5o0XzBygMaVebZLsz-njEK16_qJhbbCvgZjH/s400/DSC01123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286521056037554738" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Start of my final semester of college.</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7kugDN3MXQvYvYLv2qJ5O__KymPYYHzU0FXOOrPXyn0VTZ_SGAfLwP0GfAXlh0DgN2bBldiDILNyF40Fd_RYwg9yWskYJdfpHWmO7bhOyIPjIxFShtNaN2vSjqm6BzNSI5kk-FzmsSNd/s1600-h/iwu.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7kugDN3MXQvYvYLv2qJ5O__KymPYYHzU0FXOOrPXyn0VTZ_SGAfLwP0GfAXlh0DgN2bBldiDILNyF40Fd_RYwg9yWskYJdfpHWmO7bhOyIPjIxFShtNaN2vSjqm6BzNSI5kk-FzmsSNd/s400/iwu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286479425357982034" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Began my ministry internship at Lakeview Wesleyan Church.</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsyWNCgUoaYV_uBD4EC9aHUJ2T2seM-a9IW0j41g5fuEnqt8mIwF4IrS3wH0cI1d2QGpPgf-YutCXIvyK6FEFDVi8_yJhHe2tA34uBRkw5Vjv4Ttn_vH8heup2aCMPXdo4NowqpQs4dlL/s1600-h/0413081156.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsyWNCgUoaYV_uBD4EC9aHUJ2T2seM-a9IW0j41g5fuEnqt8mIwF4IrS3wH0cI1d2QGpPgf-YutCXIvyK6FEFDVi8_yJhHe2tA34uBRkw5Vjv4Ttn_vH8heup2aCMPXdo4NowqpQs4dlL/s400/0413081156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286471196209302466" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Job search.</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Spring Break with my dad (Daytona Bike Week ’08)</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVm5J2MlQzIjteXS-0tHmge6h7JDBcmoyOIwWg2WSQJSTHU6uXuVvGokAmpzkQ8qXsHvUgCUcGbkKYf-x0c11NTfNg3wOPiy3_CEqMEha4dNqiIUdAGZg8MNemGGvNOnpxiLJnckuEvOC/s1600-h/DSC01248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVm5J2MlQzIjteXS-0tHmge6h7JDBcmoyOIwWg2WSQJSTHU6uXuVvGokAmpzkQ8qXsHvUgCUcGbkKYf-x0c11NTfNg3wOPiy3_CEqMEha4dNqiIUdAGZg8MNemGGvNOnpxiLJnckuEvOC/s400/DSC01248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286520161896078706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0RNHnzgoP4IJfT_To12DffwtBSJkF-NrUgg8sVr7uGU4RihtAG2e6WLt-v3g1eI5H-LiRvr5F3i2EpFGgbnyLQodFa3op_AJ8QTBvhgCm9WUKyDKpu7LcmEFurBVE4dIWCVEGVTFAW7-/s1600-h/DSC01247.JPG"></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Fell in love for the first time.</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Visited Southeast Christian.</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0JUyxTAVB3fsBVdofMD_SDoE3zhi3t9yxbZTYtsFyO7xCnK_SsxGcHIh59bA5eKwjXfEzNGNH442NAJU-cRvqE4khmgzSX8ahPQvfCg3nfUrXAMDbf_CRswldtwMJj29tFqilwCUUBGk/s1600-h/P4060800.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0JUyxTAVB3fsBVdofMD_SDoE3zhi3t9yxbZTYtsFyO7xCnK_SsxGcHIh59bA5eKwjXfEzNGNH442NAJU-cRvqE4khmgzSX8ahPQvfCg3nfUrXAMDbf_CRswldtwMJj29tFqilwCUUBGk/s400/P4060800.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286469523408117090" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Offered a job at <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Fall</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Creek</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Wesleyan</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Church.</st1:placetype></st1:place></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Offered a job at Southeast Christian.</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Accepted the job at Fall Creek.<br /></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Graduation!</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipM9DyAYuSJ1D0uJacsCuqqqr4mp8xPfmsx7SlDY2qiVEpSaURn6ZjPKiF441WuJh6_mfkQCBgeYc6HWIjqDdFfmressvKmCZXitqb6Jk42Zi8s-GUCCXX5-y6c6k_zU6ITYwTJzK2-uX4/s1600-h/100_1028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipM9DyAYuSJ1D0uJacsCuqqqr4mp8xPfmsx7SlDY2qiVEpSaURn6ZjPKiF441WuJh6_mfkQCBgeYc6HWIjqDdFfmressvKmCZXitqb6Jk42Zi8s-GUCCXX5-y6c6k_zU6ITYwTJzK2-uX4/s400/100_1028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286551451340979538" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZqyF4S5OOLGY2K4zjVJDJwnmlu8-QJfDXQKOIfPJbQIUKrpQDplkIFotTHb2Rl6CbLaGwUgqBBj6fKN3jHlBOSZpxxfQVar0lf5JCzQJiKI_em4-7sX7yhXGLXLZD8V3lJS02lleFeq9/s1600-h/100_1033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 370px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZqyF4S5OOLGY2K4zjVJDJwnmlu8-QJfDXQKOIfPJbQIUKrpQDplkIFotTHb2Rl6CbLaGwUgqBBj6fKN3jHlBOSZpxxfQVar0lf5JCzQJiKI_em4-7sX7yhXGLXLZD8V3lJS02lleFeq9/s400/100_1033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286521555337374642" border="0" /></a><br /><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Drove off the lot in my brand new Scion tc!</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxVFoQAFq1OqjQ0Pl8AuyqTDEZ3VGrdC9gMvZZH4pkfhUVdk_s_9mtodLURk3FJ3w-Z11dXeZoDzSioLqgRbNlfsDaSCBozcNNsfpcLkbuH2l4_-r8Ih_hOd6SMJhdS-DKQdiGFdlXygx/s1600-h/0528081557.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCxVFoQAFq1OqjQ0Pl8AuyqTDEZ3VGrdC9gMvZZH4pkfhUVdk_s_9mtodLURk3FJ3w-Z11dXeZoDzSioLqgRbNlfsDaSCBozcNNsfpcLkbuH2l4_-r8Ih_hOd6SMJhdS-DKQdiGFdlXygx/s400/0528081557.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286471193626915570" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Stood with my best friends as they married each other.<br /></li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4u8WscgH55Uxj8VP8h_6-flgvHq-a7Zf0XR7cZjdNk6wm4ZwUGlWr7LSybQn9IyP8mwrLFHkdkKdYlpvfac31-xPeSo8c2GpLtzYjOdguHFUn8ZOyFLGuA7-C8S0_UfKxuMRRit5Xe2Io/s1600-h/n38209588_33817475_2986.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4u8WscgH55Uxj8VP8h_6-flgvHq-a7Zf0XR7cZjdNk6wm4ZwUGlWr7LSybQn9IyP8mwrLFHkdkKdYlpvfac31-xPeSo8c2GpLtzYjOdguHFUn8ZOyFLGuA7-C8S0_UfKxuMRRit5Xe2Io/s400/n38209588_33817475_2986.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286471613591942642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zg0S4ZAev131pcf3f7me9D1UdR3rtJiV4ULPvzL2olA3LQE3uzw3A2kfQEBlJVMC6KzyfGZ6GuWwmIBi95EbGqGVXoNqkO59TcJgdBqb_Sq_tyaeR91ZagERA-Z-oaeFfuBDkQ4rzTM_/s1600-h/n209101759_30978385_1685.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 390px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zg0S4ZAev131pcf3f7me9D1UdR3rtJiV4ULPvzL2olA3LQE3uzw3A2kfQEBlJVMC6KzyfGZ6GuWwmIBi95EbGqGVXoNqkO59TcJgdBqb_Sq_tyaeR91ZagERA-Z-oaeFfuBDkQ4rzTM_/s400/n209101759_30978385_1685.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286484617156670434" border="0" /></a><br /><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Made the PERMANENT move to <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">the Hoosier State.</st1:place></st1:state></li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuhNiMx0YP4QkwyLKrhunGZmnwfwYpeyWPvXmxWZc3nOG-qF_ZmyYmXCkavIKnwfrf4azbepdrgXM5-iH2-YpwUpNtAH7WGUMSHrh2cyiMSfgvm4N-vLGV0em2Vs76p3j2sHQ1wapxePW3/s1600-h/DSCF0655.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuhNiMx0YP4QkwyLKrhunGZmnwfwYpeyWPvXmxWZc3nOG-qF_ZmyYmXCkavIKnwfrf4azbepdrgXM5-iH2-YpwUpNtAH7WGUMSHrh2cyiMSfgvm4N-vLGV0em2Vs76p3j2sHQ1wapxePW3/s400/DSCF0655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286481357150461026" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Started Thursday night dinners with Jess and Deb.</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKnpvp9UTDVqxg8LYr3gtAvxqxKsW3npc63GJMYjZYN4tNTctsJnzziJOxDMCMslkn-3X9yAQ9YiH4R-par-yGlsU1fjBssCHQeKQcW7RvLaC3_SSKRhHJs4C7DHgZWHLAdUMD-5JRklN/s1600-h/n34102395_31777285_2539.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqKnpvp9UTDVqxg8LYr3gtAvxqxKsW3npc63GJMYjZYN4tNTctsJnzziJOxDMCMslkn-3X9yAQ9YiH4R-par-yGlsU1fjBssCHQeKQcW7RvLaC3_SSKRhHJs4C7DHgZWHLAdUMD-5JRklN/s400/n34102395_31777285_2539.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286472121411346114" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style=""><st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Fall</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Creek</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Wesleyan</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Church-my first "real" job.</st1:placetype></st1:place></li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOGIvn8TbCOhlrivSpckknn9SbPQdKT-NAQLes7p1N0kqh0Tm9JQi7bgxvhXs-w9dDUddotTELPMzieKtNus0eiO9kAfCA7rO1kX6Cf-uwGjGHf8XO-n0TgPygZhf7xzoxJ0WxxwwOyTd/s1600-h/churchLG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOGIvn8TbCOhlrivSpckknn9SbPQdKT-NAQLes7p1N0kqh0Tm9JQi7bgxvhXs-w9dDUddotTELPMzieKtNus0eiO9kAfCA7rO1kX6Cf-uwGjGHf8XO-n0TgPygZhf7xzoxJ0WxxwwOyTd/s400/churchLG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286472724596370594" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">My first broken heart.<br /></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Started paying rent and buying my own groceries! </li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Made it through my first VBS as a children’s pastor-a HUGE accomplishment!</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxXprhxbkwvX_74q7QHwkCPGw1cPurEqcCscbTQZzzfQYqFm_bRULIw2o-EaEE3hOkxCjgsDzHsHli1OYtmIyW8u7942AtJylvAg_siXn3qG_lvE1VhTHu4zmTKQoWEQpTE8uxLfutGe-/s1600-h/vbs2008+041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxXprhxbkwvX_74q7QHwkCPGw1cPurEqcCscbTQZzzfQYqFm_bRULIw2o-EaEE3hOkxCjgsDzHsHli1OYtmIyW8u7942AtJylvAg_siXn3qG_lvE1VhTHu4zmTKQoWEQpTE8uxLfutGe-/s400/vbs2008+041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286473774252960162" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Celebrated my 22<sup>nd</sup> birthday with two of my best friends!</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpkvTZq0wN77MJ5vJcqX2x88-CccXPJ6Vfk0KVtPZhMeXtZSjbWLH-gLEdcwa5uRjbhyc7ackFDQ-wPgcEaG02IQ84q0__dtMfSBHfe5_aq6g2ccPJSrq_B_o1g19zvdIRW8vSAiNqeg9/s1600-h/n161501385_31278853_4134.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 330px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpkvTZq0wN77MJ5vJcqX2x88-CccXPJ6Vfk0KVtPZhMeXtZSjbWLH-gLEdcwa5uRjbhyc7ackFDQ-wPgcEaG02IQ84q0__dtMfSBHfe5_aq6g2ccPJSrq_B_o1g19zvdIRW8vSAiNqeg9/s400/n161501385_31278853_4134.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286473777428034082" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">My first official blind date (little did I know it was one of many more to come.)</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">My senior pastor resigned-began a time of transition/growing for our church.<br /></li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Started AWANA at Fall Creek!</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Aa2ifkr1QR1WpYkWOVN7M2A-jgiIFHfua9BstfpGIwuhv7UjhPfKg7Gj0t9BMUwmkGEWcQiZ1BNDFTEXj1IoYdJ-Es2W4fwll1IqLkO8XR2mcvdGJTNUofG6_vbDzmGEdNyYJJRjTuFL/s1600-h/Awana500w.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Aa2ifkr1QR1WpYkWOVN7M2A-jgiIFHfua9BstfpGIwuhv7UjhPfKg7Gj0t9BMUwmkGEWcQiZ1BNDFTEXj1IoYdJ-Es2W4fwll1IqLkO8XR2mcvdGJTNUofG6_vbDzmGEdNyYJJRjTuFL/s400/Awana500w.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286482033177588578" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Another blind date.</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Thanksgiving ‘08.</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLm3FzgMK-j5ov3TJ9Nt8esf7W2bQa7sdDENBwPgY-6Atl-h2r0g8VD1t0J_1titWUI_C_X9AxMSRPMnlNfKlhEqQibhLwU6ioRaiDK60wQWNqFHETGsVd6CtxfSwgRusf5z4vjUv8qMe/s1600-h/DSC01273.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLm3FzgMK-j5ov3TJ9Nt8esf7W2bQa7sdDENBwPgY-6Atl-h2r0g8VD1t0J_1titWUI_C_X9AxMSRPMnlNfKlhEqQibhLwU6ioRaiDK60wQWNqFHETGsVd6CtxfSwgRusf5z4vjUv8qMe/s400/DSC01273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286477647992631682" border="0" /></a><ul style="margin-top: 0in; font-family: trebuchet ms;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Yet ANOTHER blind date.</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">Christmas with my family.</li><li class="MsoNormal" style="">And ending with New Year’s Eve in Indy with Deb!<br /></li></ul> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">This is kind of a lame list but it has been quite the year in my humble little life. I tried to think of the biggest things and include them here. I'm sure if I really sat and thought about it I would come up with a much longer list of things that I learned and ways that God stretched me. I'm anticipating another year of change and growth and I can't wait to see what's around the corner</p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"> Here’s to feelin' (and lookin') fine in 2009…</p>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-35990222254641861192008-12-29T11:46:00.016-05:002008-12-31T11:29:49.809-05:00On the Wings of a Dove<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>God, listen to my prayer. Pay attention to my cry for help.<br />Hear me and answer me.<br />My thoughts upset me. I’m very troubled.<br />I’m troubled by what my enemies say about me. I’m upset because sinful people stare at me. They cause me all kinds of suffering. When they’re angry, they attack me with their words.<br />I feel great pain deep down inside me. The terrors of death are crushing me.<br />Fear and trembling have taken hold of me. Panic has overpowered me.<br />I said, “I wish I had wings like a dove! Then I would fly away and be at rest. I would escape to a place far away. I would stay out in the desert. I would hurry to my place of safety. It would be far away from the winds and storms I’m facing.”<br />Lord, destroy the plans of sinners. Keep them from understanding one another. I see people destroying things and fighting in the city.<br />Day and night they prowl around on top of its walls. The city is full of crime and trouble. Forces that destroy are at work inside it. Its streets are full of people who cheat others and take advantage of them.<br />If an enemy were making fun of me, I could stand it. If he were looking down on me, I could hide from him.<br />But it’s you, someone like myself. We used to enjoy good friendship as we walked with the crowds at the house of God.<br />Let death take my enemies by surprise. Let them be buried alive because their hearts and homes are full of evil.<br />But I call out to God. And the LORD saves me. Evening, morning, and noon I groan and cry out. And he hears my voice. Even though many enemies are fighting against me, he brings me safely back from the battle.<br />God sits on his throne FOREVER. He hears my prayers and makes my enemies suffer. They never change their ways. They don’t have any respect for God.<br />My companion attacks his friends. He breaks his promises. His talk is as smooth as butter. But he has war in his heart. His words flow like olive oil. But they are like swords ready for battle.<br />Turn your worries over to the Lord. He will keep you going. He will never let godly people fall.<br />God, you will bring sinners down to the grave. Murderers and liars won’t live out even half of their lives.<br /><br />But I TRUST YOU</em>. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-PSALM 55 </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mywDXlPPkbrIlMJ0OLsVwuk8DXlqXDsNEP7cXx6EXus-WKjmCKhzunvVe33suv3IulNbzvG4weXQBRGscidd9z36GLiU1_ocG353wZAbnjPCfMMpFqxxBLznCLXtDYq9vfAtUhr4SP5M/s1600-h/cadysmom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285372933566385650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mywDXlPPkbrIlMJ0OLsVwuk8DXlqXDsNEP7cXx6EXus-WKjmCKhzunvVe33suv3IulNbzvG4weXQBRGscidd9z36GLiU1_ocG353wZAbnjPCfMMpFqxxBLznCLXtDYq9vfAtUhr4SP5M/s400/cadysmom.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It’s amazing the way God speaks to me through kids’ devotional materials. Today I was looking through my Vacation Bible School Director’s Kit as I prepare for the summer of 2009. I came across a couple verses from Psalm 55 in one of the handouts for the kids. The handout was talking about how it is possible to be a “survivor” because we have the power of Christ. Psalm 55 verses 6-8 were included in this packet to show the kids that even some of the Bible's greatest heroes went through tough times and had to depend on God for survival. <em>“I said, ‘I wish I had wings like a dove! Then I would fly away and be at rest. I would escape to a place far away. I would stay out in the desert. I would hurry to my place of safety. It would be far away from the winds and storms I’m facing’.”</em> I read those verses and felt as if God was speaking DIRECTLY to me. Let me just tell you all, after my week at home for Christmas I was definitely wishing that I could fly on the wings of a dove and escape to a desert far away (to put it nicely).<br />You see, when I go home I am reminded of what my life used to be. I am reminded that things used to be “normal” and now they will never, ever be the same. Christmas is always a difficult holiday when you have lost a loved one. It’s so filled with memories, tradition and expectation that sometimes it’s like losing that person all over again when things turn out to be anything but "traditional".<br />I came home on Sunday the 21st to find my parents’ house without a single Christmas decoration. No stockings, no wreaths, no candles, no Christmas tree. Nothing. I tried really hard not to make a big deal out of it because I know that my dad is just as disappointed as I am. He tries so hard to be both the mom and the dad and I know it gets tiring for him. He doesn’t know how to decorate a house or make it feel “homey”. His domestic skills don’t go much further than his homemade cleaning solution (equal parts water, bleach and peroxide). Walking into a non-decorated house is just another HUGE reminder that my mama is gone. She was obsessed with Christmas and loved to decorate. She went a little overboard sometimes, ok MOST of the time, but I never had to worry about whether or not my home would <em>feel</em> like Christmas when I walked in.<br />On Monday morning I went up to our attic, pulled out the boxes of Christmas décor and hauled the artificial Christmas tree down the stairs. I started assembling it by myself and eventually my dad came in to lend a hand. He helped me string the lights and then I decorated the whole thing by myself while he sat in the other room, tears filling his eyes.<br />We both tried to swallow our sadness and act strong for each other. I try not to break down in front of him because I don’t really think it’s fair when he has so much pain inside too. I finished decorating my mom’s beautiful tree, covered with her ballerina ornaments and sparkly snowflakes and then I called my best friend. I called Jennie to see if she could come help me decorate the rest of my house. She immediately agreed and promised to come right over as soon as possible. Her sister Steph and their mom came too. When I saw the three of them, such dear and beautiful friends, I knew that it was going to be ok. They got right to work, hauling up wreaths, trees and candles from the basement and telling me how beautiful they thought everything was. Within an hour our house was transformed and I finally felt at home. I hardly had to do anything, it felt as if they carried me.<br />I know that Christmas is still Christmas even without the decorations and presents and everything else but there is something inside of me that aches for things to feel the same, even though I know that isn’t possible. I read the Psalm above and I can identify 100% with what the writer says. I wish so badly that I could escape these troubles. I wish that my little brother would surrender himself to God instead of running away, I wish my sister’s heart would be healed and that I could take her hurt from her and I wish my dad could feel whole again. I know that it is quite possible that I may never see some of these things restored in this lifetime. I also wish, more than anything, that broken relationships could be healed and that repentance would be made known. The author of this Psalm is right when he talks about how it's easy to shrug it off when an enemy is attacking us, but much more difficult when it is someone like us, someone we know and love.<br />I feel like I am constantly hanging between this stage of acceptance and denial. There are some days where I feel ok about everything, like I have just enough strength to face the world, and other days where I want to run away and pretend that the last three years have been nothing but a nightmare that I will wake up from tomorrow morning. You can only tell yourself that so many times before tomorrow becomes today and then you realize nothing has changed. (And everything has changed.) The comforting thing about this Psalm is that I see this same friction in the author’s writing. He goes back and forth between anger and pain to surrender and trust. But the beautiful thing is where he ends up. The Psalm ends with the phrase, “<em>But I trust you.”</em> I can look at my life, at everything that has happened and I can say that I trust Him. I trust God to love me and walk with me through it all and although it is painful, and messy and sickening at times I still KNOW that God is enough. He is enough for me. He’s all I need and He is going to bring me through. I have faith and know that this is not the end. Somehow, someday there will be justice. I may never, ever see it but I know that God is faithful and He will take care of me.<br />I also have faith that someday I will be able to <em>“be far away from the winds and storms I’m facing.”</em> Isn’t that what God promises us when He speaks of heaven? I believe that one day I will be able to see the beauty in all of this. Maybe my mom already can. </span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPSSkPxPp_CmrplTNFQyWJxyVu415m5TEKNMtYIE4695kTECvNi5niZfLODdL4GurZYbZ2crV8Fs25CdbJSprwoBSyce1hfF-eTr_AJFnYInJiyFAp7TshyAjqX7EeCr0hiB1vx6dFZdW_/s1600-h/mom3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285372941539401122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPSSkPxPp_CmrplTNFQyWJxyVu415m5TEKNMtYIE4695kTECvNi5niZfLODdL4GurZYbZ2crV8Fs25CdbJSprwoBSyce1hfF-eTr_AJFnYInJiyFAp7TshyAjqX7EeCr0hiB1vx6dFZdW_/s400/mom3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He who has promised is faithful.</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-17858309562226448712008-12-17T20:11:00.006-05:002009-01-01T21:44:29.474-05:00Back to the Homeland<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A few weeks ago I got to go home to Iowa for the first time in almost six months. I spent four days at home with my friends and family and got some much needed rest! Here are some pictures of that trip. Sorry I am just now getting around to posting them!</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRndxrUDVENti6qIUlIxzIqNaXTu-OuUMmGWIpGgBD1uT3FqYUiGEhBTEwG8ELxjyf59Nyub3_bP_ZSUgMRcfCgAp1tS0UNm64Ya6DwRncKJmcFOHT8UqLAyin-vXHPk9pJ9RLMU-PkiY/s1600-h/DSC01275.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRndxrUDVENti6qIUlIxzIqNaXTu-OuUMmGWIpGgBD1uT3FqYUiGEhBTEwG8ELxjyf59Nyub3_bP_ZSUgMRcfCgAp1tS0UNm64Ya6DwRncKJmcFOHT8UqLAyin-vXHPk9pJ9RLMU-PkiY/s400/DSC01275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280932299935336930" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">This is our official 2008 Christmas card. Merry Christmas from the Stephens Family!<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASx4GY2RLg70cJ3vM90xtxSU6TeSZmLDGdZBREb7hleTxQKCUgygiZJmcezXErjAOItTSnlpAdZhyphenhyphen4wg-YtbibeOBWoVjug_hVstnan__nU_VI-8sWkDwtehfNC_yV2LScTRctCjyaHIq/s1600-h/DSC01311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASx4GY2RLg70cJ3vM90xtxSU6TeSZmLDGdZBREb7hleTxQKCUgygiZJmcezXErjAOItTSnlpAdZhyphenhyphen4wg-YtbibeOBWoVjug_hVstnan__nU_VI-8sWkDwtehfNC_yV2LScTRctCjyaHIq/s400/DSC01311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280934194491518098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Me and the Ol' Man waiting for Crissa after church...<br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1smdPqRj_Nqshs-YEQ3tBi2lsy9tyzvfhoplAi_4nX8N-nvkQQMwx5HpzjGXk76kl6IRcAJk75pvEEpANnAmuTDdFCvj-TMb68y12VVWJUNBH9OaNRRoN3LG5FyfXzhOenYCY5q6pvMrI/s1600-h/DSC01294.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1smdPqRj_Nqshs-YEQ3tBi2lsy9tyzvfhoplAi_4nX8N-nvkQQMwx5HpzjGXk76kl6IRcAJk75pvEEpANnAmuTDdFCvj-TMb68y12VVWJUNBH9OaNRRoN3LG5FyfXzhOenYCY5q6pvMrI/s400/DSC01294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280934186661134130" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">I got to see my very best friend for the first time since July.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYbSs9nVwYBeXJmCpEVvcoJ2QUTX36AeYrCM1kHINVREERAb4Ke99nNVk8SZHpVWUq61_MRmlxAcvRcbY9N_hh0DqpQrncqM1Jn_imGdITLsknPGrbu-rN1adbDTEFyVSwMuHQCao-3_f/s1600-h/DSC01295.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYbSs9nVwYBeXJmCpEVvcoJ2QUTX36AeYrCM1kHINVREERAb4Ke99nNVk8SZHpVWUq61_MRmlxAcvRcbY9N_hh0DqpQrncqM1Jn_imGdITLsknPGrbu-rN1adbDTEFyVSwMuHQCao-3_f/s400/DSC01295.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280934170449312466" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">It snowed while we were home and our backyard looked beautiful! It was just too pretty not to take a picture. (Editor's Note: My dad is NOT the greatest photographer that ever lived.)<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_1MFS6selVLyDkxKqWI_GpJYgZDB2qO2PzyEQWnJrgehq9LzUnh3NrUKduWiYamvJqQtL63KGS3zBOIN0garBtGtSVugixS8C0LN_nwGLUS6qb6_DfSK5b1dPYn1i6UXkKb0A5snmNjY/s1600-h/DSC01291.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_1MFS6selVLyDkxKqWI_GpJYgZDB2qO2PzyEQWnJrgehq9LzUnh3NrUKduWiYamvJqQtL63KGS3zBOIN0garBtGtSVugixS8C0LN_nwGLUS6qb6_DfSK5b1dPYn1i6UXkKb0A5snmNjY/s400/DSC01291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280934160644868818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Sissy.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOplQFHKzwTRFqWnaK4_bRQnKPB9G5cfHrxViyuSUZiSaTZiRmPF80kq3Bhk88MlZtgvySdF2pkOiE-7mrVMPCfRR8rkaYPETkTcl62KH61qPBdzn25HLzJHaGshhfZDoRB5y5cSzBUhcs/s1600-h/DSC01279.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOplQFHKzwTRFqWnaK4_bRQnKPB9G5cfHrxViyuSUZiSaTZiRmPF80kq3Bhk88MlZtgvySdF2pkOiE-7mrVMPCfRR8rkaYPETkTcl62KH61qPBdzn25HLzJHaGshhfZDoRB5y5cSzBUhcs/s400/DSC01279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280934153152728306" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Jennie, Dave, Crissa, my dad and I hung out one night. We watched Grizzly Man and laughed until we cried. I'm not really sure if that movie is supposed to be funny but for "some odd" reason it is hilarious.<br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, as you can see. It wasn't too exciting. Nothing overly-thrilling happened but I had a great time! Sometimes the quiet, uneventful trips are the best ones. Now it's about time to head back for Christmas!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div></div><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-83127079964198484562008-12-10T16:53:00.003-05:002008-12-10T17:12:49.691-05:00Chestnuts Roasting...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Have you ever noticed how Christmas songs always sound so lovely, peaceful and soothing? Ha. I don't know about you but so far my Christmas season has seemed anything BUT restful, peaceful and quiet. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Working at a church is always busy but it's especially chaotic this time of year. I have Christmas parties every weekend, I had three Christmas programs for the daycare last week and have one program for my church kids next week. I attended the women's ministry Christmas dessert night, my staff Christmas party, I have a Christmas party with friends this Friday as well as one next Friday at my house. Our church Christmas dinner is Saturday night and then on top of all of that I have to drive (8 hours) home for the holidays with my family. Someone pinch me please. I feel like I am living in a neverending dream, some sort of alternate universe. I wander through the days hoping that I remember to do my hair and feeling really proud of myself if I actually get makeup on. My newest and greatest acccomplishment is this: I learned how to do all of my makeup while driving my new car, which happens to be a stick shift, in city traffic from Carmel to Fishers. Crazy, you say? Nope. Just doing what I have to do to make it from one day to the next. All the while I'm trying to balance a personal life, get things done at work, handle family stuff and take care of my own body. I am getting dizzy just thinking about all of it!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But the crazy thing is, I wouldn't have it any other way! Yes, of course, there are times when I wish I could sleep in or spend more time just hanging out with my friends. But I have been so blessed with a job that allows me to spend my days interacting and building relationships with other people. I don't want to say no to babysitting jobs, party invitations, lunches with friends or Christmas programs because I love all of the people that I am surrounded with at these events. I go and I do what I need to do and somehow God has allowed me to be mentally present at each and every thing. He has taught me how to live in the moment and enjoy things as they happen. What a gift! I am learning not to stress about the small things. (They always get done.) But rather, I am soaking in every minute of this crazy time. Sure, I haven't bought a single Christmas gift yet but I'm sure I will find the time I need. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I encourage you to stop, relax and enjoy your holiday season. Soak in every minute and enjoy the days as they fly by. 2008 is almost over! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wonder what's coming in the year that lies ahead...</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-79483149236349655692008-10-17T14:37:00.011-04:002008-10-17T15:28:02.149-04:00Field of Dreams.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I love living in Indy. I have a great life here. Great friends. Great job. Awesome church. Beautiful apartment. It’s all very surreal. But there are still days when I miss my humble upbringing I Waterloo, Iowa.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Why? </span><st1:state style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iowa</st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> sounds lame.” And let me be the first to say, you are right. </span><st1:state style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iowa</st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> is a pretty bland place…but it’s my home. I’m not a huge fan of cattle and cornfields but I am a huge fan of the people that live there. A piece of my heart is in </span><st1:state style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Iowa</st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> and a lot of my love belongs to these people:<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The FAMILY<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseH5YDx9H_8cbMRfBsK1fJKx2vY77CAsoaxmTuKxyPDZd8B5waSIJi4ieyf2k_HAq3JtJ-Mv5x4ktaf6KoEmnx0MKzr_eVQtaPVbZ4Wwu2YZG2qnsBw3FCycQ0fdSoL-QB3VGCKS2vZIE/s1600-h/moto.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseH5YDx9H_8cbMRfBsK1fJKx2vY77CAsoaxmTuKxyPDZd8B5waSIJi4ieyf2k_HAq3JtJ-Mv5x4ktaf6KoEmnx0MKzr_eVQtaPVbZ4Wwu2YZG2qnsBw3FCycQ0fdSoL-QB3VGCKS2vZIE/s400/moto.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258206721617202066" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is my dad. A lot of people have told me that I have the best dad in the world and I have to agree. He listens to me when I talk about boys, he gives me recipes when I'm having people over for dinner and he comes to the rescue when I need him to kick certain butts. He is a great dad. He protects me and cares for me more than anyone else in this entire world. I know that whenever I need him he will be there for me. He has offered to come all the way out to Indiana on two separate occasions in the last three years to beat up boys for me. I usually have to calm him down and say, "Dad. Lets just think about this for a minute. Take a deep breath." It's so amazing to know the if it ever came down to it, he would fight for me and I KNOW he would win.</span><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08qT6nd6em_wrtuLSu1rIiKnbBnH2q4XQEbv3aTDEdLiT1jCYQWagtjing18EkG7AmD6-Q1QdnoUwJxrwfacmmnWSi6wrdjKXIao3jhmNex2kXlj5N8nnBpod6lf282IDGqGQI31QAowx/s1600-h/promdad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08qT6nd6em_wrtuLSu1rIiKnbBnH2q4XQEbv3aTDEdLiT1jCYQWagtjing18EkG7AmD6-Q1QdnoUwJxrwfacmmnWSi6wrdjKXIao3jhmNex2kXlj5N8nnBpod6lf282IDGqGQI31QAowx/s400/promdad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258195811804838530" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When I was a junior in high school I was FREAKING OUT about what I was going to wear to prom (serious business, I know). My dad asked me what dress I wanted and I showed him on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">internet</span>. He wrote down the item number and the color and ordered it for me. Then, on top of all that he dressed up like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">medieval</span> soldier at the after party. All of the junior parents were in charge of planning our post-prom and this is what my dad looked like when I showed up with my date!</span><br /><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ax5825L5fW0PUPSqqijo0ya7e6d917_LG2PEr_ItEeRud2fbcga_EdSCcdMIr5lR89vjmkSI-6o3lYJtA37lrEmlAlbBney3U2tM6Vf9G-dGC9RK227oNNO-bzqkgLyJNLJrR-BRXPtl/s1600-h/n209101759_30712753_3380.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ax5825L5fW0PUPSqqijo0ya7e6d917_LG2PEr_ItEeRud2fbcga_EdSCcdMIr5lR89vjmkSI-6o3lYJtA37lrEmlAlbBney3U2tM6Vf9G-dGC9RK227oNNO-bzqkgLyJNLJrR-BRXPtl/s400/n209101759_30712753_3380.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258194395171876066" border="0" /></a></p><p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">For my 21st birthday I wanted to go skydiving. Although I made the jump alone, my dad and my best friend were there to support me the entire time. This photo is a great depiction of our relationship. I was about to go 10,500 feet up in the air to jump out of a moving plane and I was a little bit nervous. My dad comforted me and let me lean on him (literally) until my nerves settled. And, being an industrial safety man by trade, he very meticulously checked all of my equipment before I boarded. The trainer said to him, "Sir, we've already done the safety check and she is good to go." My dad looked him straight in the face as if to say, "I don't trust you."<br /></p><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPC7UXfp0MMXsYbPZv4BkKr8Cw3mchNwzRo32TIfaULRMgN5crARWXdmej9jaruQNcfNFiqQLPUpi6CgJHBsetw9ce91ikZ1CEnYBqtGmD7ZhGLN4nQMnTtLVug8eLSgrgO5MJB7svRJqx/s1600-h/DSC01248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPC7UXfp0MMXsYbPZv4BkKr8Cw3mchNwzRo32TIfaULRMgN5crARWXdmej9jaruQNcfNFiqQLPUpi6CgJHBsetw9ce91ikZ1CEnYBqtGmD7ZhGLN4nQMnTtLVug8eLSgrgO5MJB7svRJqx/s400/DSC01248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258194404660697058" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I bet most girls my age can't say that they spent spring break of their senior year of college in Florida with their dad. But I did. My dad and I went with some of his motorcycle buddies to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Daytona</span> Beach for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Daytona</span> Bike Week '08. We had such a good time! I love spending time with my dad and Rick and Maggie. I went on spring break with a bunch of 50 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">olds</span> and it was one of the best vacations of my life!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The FRIENDS<br /></span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXr1IiD_xTMMNrA9AJedx943LDYqgPDJFoo-UtunWEi0XWEhyQmRMgwHf2P0f3BlJKhWce1XQ5cJ5hawsct3Nm5ljfW0UwOetjEIclHpmBEy-oJZODwYSKEPXUbynPUIofOk0FtOAXdIQ/s1600-h/n38209588_33817476_3261.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSXr1IiD_xTMMNrA9AJedx943LDYqgPDJFoo-UtunWEi0XWEhyQmRMgwHf2P0f3BlJKhWce1XQ5cJ5hawsct3Nm5ljfW0UwOetjEIclHpmBEy-oJZODwYSKEPXUbynPUIofOk0FtOAXdIQ/s400/n38209588_33817476_3261.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258200200427221250" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My best friends Jennie and Dave are largely responsible for the person I am today. They have loved me through some of the most difficult experiences of my life.</span><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Pt8j4taiYvQ71Zx3cXb7x3aWszwhq7aJbLqfZ37zfOKKJXPCECKcsSKYAvxpqhSFZU_WB9gkjyphihe-QkA0jiIKUsJN6yV01bdxdFE5zAUkGAa_79NxYELIOthK1jhJnzIoYTW01zZ2/s1600-h/davencate.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Pt8j4taiYvQ71Zx3cXb7x3aWszwhq7aJbLqfZ37zfOKKJXPCECKcsSKYAvxpqhSFZU_WB9gkjyphihe-QkA0jiIKUsJN6yV01bdxdFE5zAUkGAa_79NxYELIOthK1jhJnzIoYTW01zZ2/s400/davencate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258199218776533266" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Dave has always been like the big brother that I never had. He has let me know that I am beautiful, even when boys are being stupid. He's let me cry to him and he comforts me by sharing words of affirmation and he listens to me when I need advice or when I need to vent. Most girls probably can't say that they have such an amazing guy friend. I am so lucky that Dave has been a part of my life. We've been together since we were 5 years old and we were raised as siblings. I can't imagine my life without him in it!</span><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvm9O45FrY1sYK1V00uiT7i6C6OW71prtk73yxLupLAyDlQScGZ5Vu7pitr4ukPkXx3ECuDb1-Mp1vAopom3PKKOXVtt0RoPvHATgxTJGa7q0o6XhR5Hg6EjPH_ccdVbG2S5JPjflnb-iS/s1600-h/n209101759_30987828_815.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvm9O45FrY1sYK1V00uiT7i6C6OW71prtk73yxLupLAyDlQScGZ5Vu7pitr4ukPkXx3ECuDb1-Mp1vAopom3PKKOXVtt0RoPvHATgxTJGa7q0o6XhR5Hg6EjPH_ccdVbG2S5JPjflnb-iS/s400/n209101759_30987828_815.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258200188803925890" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Jennie is my closest friend in this world. We have been through things together that most people never experience . Seven years ago I cried with Jennie when our dear friend, her boyfriend passed away from cancer. I saw her rise up and face grief head on. She came through this tragedy honoring God and showing the love of Christ to others even as her heart broke. Little did I know that five years later Jennie would grieve with me as I faced my own tragedy. She sat with me while I stared silently, she wiped my tears and rubbed my back while I cried. When everyone else walked away she was there. I can never thank her enough for the way that has loved me through the last three years. </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbuocqL1tRfop77OQWttcLSTZ760lxC4bMeUeTATPlpA1kJTWAXy9P3VIZBhcRmwqcGsTc6vghtpiyqakayprK0-qKMhcSFur0r7IPkLN9hza7kAerJ2fk6noh7dY6pGGQo1JO7cZaC26/s1600-h/n209101759_30708540_5666.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbuocqL1tRfop77OQWttcLSTZ760lxC4bMeUeTATPlpA1kJTWAXy9P3VIZBhcRmwqcGsTc6vghtpiyqakayprK0-qKMhcSFur0r7IPkLN9hza7kAerJ2fk6noh7dY6pGGQo1JO7cZaC26/s400/n209101759_30708540_5666.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258200196060507442" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We love to be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">girly</span> together. I can not even begin to tell you all of the memories that we have made while shopping together. The above picture is our relationship in a nut shell.</span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_QiYdHHWy-s0GkGGGNGDZcCWYDt5A2WSpQ3YBhQ4Wg04TudazI7rtb8JyBBV86V625utdpmaAgf6vHzgrNmvLZiDtTO_30UjtAIeozuhu8AmT_zA_m-vJRJ3LBysYoC60EZWTrgNe7HNj/s1600-h/n209101759_30822201_4125.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_QiYdHHWy-s0GkGGGNGDZcCWYDt5A2WSpQ3YBhQ4Wg04TudazI7rtb8JyBBV86V625utdpmaAgf6vHzgrNmvLZiDtTO_30UjtAIeozuhu8AmT_zA_m-vJRJ3LBysYoC60EZWTrgNe7HNj/s400/n209101759_30822201_4125.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258200201579568530" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Last year Jennie and I went to Florida for New Year's. It ended up being 40 degrees while we were there. We thought we were going to escape the Iowa cold but ended up bundling ourselves up just to walk out on the beach. This was such an exciting time for us because Jennie and Dave got engaged a couple days before we left. Five months after this photo was taken my two best friends married each other! And let me just say, I take all of the credit for the two of them getting together. I like to believe that I was the common bond between the two of them. That's why they take such good care of me now. :)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, as you can see, Iowa isn't so lame. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Hawkeye</span> state is filled with people that I love. I love living in Indy but I sure do miss these people. </span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-8608352650506671372008-10-06T22:02:00.006-04:002008-10-06T22:13:45.092-04:00The Fighting Irish<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Crissa and I recently spent the weekend in South Bend. Her sweet friend Jim took us around the campus for a tour and then we enjoyed some serious Notre Dame football on Saturday. We had such a good time laughing and being sisters. Here are a few photographs from our journey into the black hole that is Notre Dame. I swear that place is like an alternate universe. Hopefully there will be both more trips to South Bend and more photographs to come.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHrI2gwrqpz3CrhBesKzaLTCBmE6H7COSnWHouFTZF44DfdxLkyqsDjytvBv5ipt4otGg0G5oJ9lw4AwadPJrK1CueXbYJTjfs8lTu7wovV9OJ2sQN7VQG30oyAK_gL9WWP2n8kOK9sgI/s1600-h/1004081543.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHrI2gwrqpz3CrhBesKzaLTCBmE6H7COSnWHouFTZF44DfdxLkyqsDjytvBv5ipt4otGg0G5oJ9lw4AwadPJrK1CueXbYJTjfs8lTu7wovV9OJ2sQN7VQG30oyAK_gL9WWP2n8kOK9sgI/s400/1004081543.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254227492227193874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Here is a picture of our view from Section 20 Row 56. Great view of the student section...more on that to come.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHfbKT-xl0rnLY229LMPCPAC-_4JoHBYYFyTCYM7yRUmbQmJC6sLqGqmqytWIaa4Fk8ky9bf1Xvln3IvppAfrJgJqjwD_5iFav4ZxxTqnCQ7P1yFQcj5g0zgS4yzdS8WkNk7fSO6ALzjzF/s1600-h/1004081758.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHfbKT-xl0rnLY229LMPCPAC-_4JoHBYYFyTCYM7yRUmbQmJC6sLqGqmqytWIaa4Fk8ky9bf1Xvln3IvppAfrJgJqjwD_5iFav4ZxxTqnCQ7P1yFQcj5g0zgS4yzdS8WkNk7fSO6ALzjzF/s400/1004081758.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254227497333497762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I told Crissa to make a face of what she thought about the game. Her face says, "Hey! This was fun! I wish we could come back tomorrow!" And mine says, "Oops. I'm sorry that I ruined everyone's plans and got us kicked out of the student section by handing my falsified ticket book back to Jim right in front of the usher."<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39yxHgCtAXbi7bMQEPeF8j1cyfL8t8p6UvMxz89Vur64i1Huxym9aRkUPvDhHsMsV3b9Xc40t_hPMz6wbBLh2WktlTvHwtJhwtwTMKDqKg6bxiCOLgdtUaZSA6KtK4Y0A9lzdb40we2PF/s1600-h/1004081757.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39yxHgCtAXbi7bMQEPeF8j1cyfL8t8p6UvMxz89Vur64i1Huxym9aRkUPvDhHsMsV3b9Xc40t_hPMz6wbBLh2WktlTvHwtJhwtwTMKDqKg6bxiCOLgdtUaZSA6KtK4Y0A9lzdb40we2PF/s400/1004081757.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254227496811361586" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Here we are waiting for the guys to come find us after the game. We definitely got separated thanks to me. THIS is exactly why I have an overactive conscience! I can not do anything without getting caught! </span><br /></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-52589014699840776492008-10-06T21:21:00.011-04:002008-10-06T22:42:04.260-04:00Bouquets of Sharpened Pencils<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms."</span></span><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">-Tom Hanks as Joe Fox (<span style="font-style: italic;">You've Got Mail</span>)</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPqXVF0rTbUJoG7GR_g03zdZZJAdl70yLsgA8Klk9SPqt3fMnsm-PYRbJ_RyFAtpdiVdVF5ZZzUCV3boCLCBOXuLyEsvtjnFdiOsTH55Mu00ZxOErenGieXyW7pXgr4nsf4sw45besTXk/s1600-h/8527.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOPqXVF0rTbUJoG7GR_g03zdZZJAdl70yLsgA8Klk9SPqt3fMnsm-PYRbJ_RyFAtpdiVdVF5ZZzUCV3boCLCBOXuLyEsvtjnFdiOsTH55Mu00ZxOErenGieXyW7pXgr4nsf4sw45besTXk/s400/8527.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254236502494857122" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />As a little girl I always dreaded the end of summer, knowing that the fall brought cold weather, the start of the school year, and shorter days. I am, and always have been, a summer LOVER. I love warm weather, I love the sun, I love flip flops, fireworks, ICE CREAM. I love everything between the months of May and September. But now I have to admit that I am really starting to appreciate the fall. Every year my mom pointed out the changing leaves. She loved the way the world changed in September. We had a massive oak tree in our backyard. Its branches hung like an umbrella, shading our entire yard. Well, I am sad to say that that beloved oak tree eventually got some traveling only-in-Iowa disease and had to be cut down. My mom video taped this monumental event and actually cried as the branches fell to the ground. Needless to say, she wore her emotions on her sleeve. Something about that story sticks with me even now, almost four years later. Trees are very symbolic. I have heard so many "Christian" analogies using the tree. But for me it's more simple than that. To me they represent beauty and they symbolize change. I recently took a trip up State Road 31 from Indianapolis to South Bend. As I drove I watched in anticipation to see the changing leaves. Although it's still early in the season, the colors are beginning to show up. Orange, red, dark purple, brown. It's all so comforting to me. This is also especially significant in my life as of late because I feel as though I have been in constant transition for the last few months. My life has been defined by change and consistency is something of the past for me.</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My senior year of college was, as I'm sure it is for most people, an awkward season. I wanted so badly to be "present" in everything that I did at school but I was also mentally pulling away, knowing that my life would change a year later. And here I am, after months of searching for a job, interviewing, closing doors, opening new ones, moving, standing up with my best friends on their wedding day, ending relationships, building relationships, starting a new job and now preparing for a huge new transition. Our church is in the middle of a season of change. Things are going to be drastically different in the coming months and I am preparing for a time of uncertainty, unknown future and growth. Even as I wait...and dream for what the future may hold I know that God has a plan and that He already has this figured out. God's grace amazes me every day. I am so undeserving and yet he continues to love and care for me. Right now the leaves represent change.<br />I have learned many a life lesson from the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">You've Got Mail</span>. It is a Stephens' women favorite. My mom, sister and I would watch that movie at least 5 times a year and quote the entire thing, laughing each time as though we had never seen it before. And just as Joe Fox (F-O-X) of Fox Books says, "this not knowing has its charms". Something about transition and change is comforting. I don't want to live a predictable life. And as my personal life continues to change, so does the world around me. Just as I continue to find the beauty in the changing leaves, the huge fall sky, and the crisp, cool weather, I also continue my search for beauty within the transitions of my own life. Someday I know I will be able to look back and see the hand of God, the way he brought me through this season and the way he worked through it all. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-49342951764330417382008-09-07T21:50:00.005-04:002008-09-07T22:31:24.933-04:00Speechless.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Has anyone ever asked you a question that you absolutely do not have an answer to? That happened to me tonight and for some reason it really bothered me. Tonight at small group John asked us all, "What is your identity? Who are you? What defines you?" I told all of the people in my group that immediately after those words came out of his mouth I started feeling sick to my stomach and I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. The truth is, I don't know. I don't know what my identity is. I know that I am a daughter of Christ and I know that my true identity comes from him. I have never doubted that. But even with that in mind, I don't think I know exactly who I am. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Growing up in Waterloo, IA, I was known as Dan and Sue Stephens' daughter, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nik's</span> older sister, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Crissa's</span> younger sister. I was known as the quiet one. I had tons of thoughts running around in my head but I preferred to stay below the radar. I never really did anything to shake things up and I avoided calling attention to myself at all costs. My family was incredibly involved in our church, my mom was on staff and my parents devoted a ton of their time, passion and energy into the ministry there. It was a church of almost a thousand people but I feel like my parents knew everyone. Maybe it just seemed that way to my young, immature mind but I sometimes think that we were in the spotlight a little more than the average family. My parents were also very involved in my school. I went to a tiny private high school where EVERYONE knew EVERYTHING about EVERYONE. I guess it was always easy for me to identify with my family. My parents had an image and a persona that they upheld and I just tagged right along. I never really had to make much of an identity for myself because I knew that no matter what I did, no matter who I tried to be, I would always be known as Dan and Sue Stephens' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">daughter</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Nik's</span> older sister, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Crissa's</span> younger sister...the quiet one.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now things have changed a lot. I went to college eight hours away from home. I knew exactly two people when I moved to Indiana Wesleyan University and I was able to make a new identity. I was able to start over knowing that no one there knew who I was. They didn't know my family and they didn't expect anything from me. For the first time in my life I was able to be me. I was able to freely and confidently act and think as an individual. I've always been independent and stubborn on the inside but this was a new feeling, something I had never experienced before. My freshman year of college changed me. I left school and went home that summer as a confident, independent young woman. I knew my convictions, I knew what I wanted, I knew who I was and I wasn't ashamed of it. For the first time I was proud to be me. Because of my new boldness and freedom I was able to make some incredible friends at school. I was able to connect with people and share my heart with them knowing that all they wanted was for me to be genuine. This was the first time in my life that I experienced true Christian community. God showed me how to live life with other people and he surrounded me with people that spoke life into me, people that built me up and people that challenged me in my faith.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Here's where it all changes. That year my world was rocked. My life was flipped upside down and I felt like the earth fell out from beneath me. I had spent 18 years living as Dan and Sue's daughter and even though I had become my "own person" that was still a HUGE part of who I was. Then that all changed. I found out on Thursday, January 12<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">th</span> that there was a small possibility my mom may have cancer. I went home on Friday the 13<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">th</span> and she died on the morning of January 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span>. I stood in a hospital room and held my mom's hand while a pastor prayed over her and her heart stopped beating. I watched my dad kiss her forehead and I stared at him as his tears dripped onto her face. Then we walked out of that hospital room and my life has never been the same. This is something that I absolutely can not explain. It is impossible for one to understand something like this until you go through it yourself. I can not even begin to put into words all of the thoughts and feelings that were running through my head. I think my main question was, "What now? What am I supposed to do now? My mom is gone, therefore everything I have ever known is different." When you lose someone close to you, you lose a part of yourself. My mom was a part of me. I have her DNA, I have her eyes, I have her smile and I have certain parts of her personality. All of those things will always be a part of me but there is another part of me that died with her and that's what is so confusing now. How am I supposed to know my identity? How am I supposed to know exactly who I am, knowing full well that part of me is missing and will never, ever be replaced? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">All I know is that I now, more than ever, I have to strive to be the woman that God has created me to be. I want to be beautiful. I want to be beautiful because of the way that I radiate Christ and the way that I allow him to shine through me. When people look at me I want them to think, "I see God in her." I want my identity to be fully and completely found in my relationship with Christ. Without him, who am I? What am I doing? What is the point to my humble life? I have so much growing and maturing and changing to do. I know my passions, I know what I love, I know what I want to do and who I want to be. Now I have to make sure that I follow those passions, that I pursue that love and that I do what I want to do and become who I want to be. So I guess right now when I am asked the question, "Who are you?" my only response is, I am a mess. I am an ever-changing, forever growing, straight up, complicated mess. But I'm God's mess and although I will never be perfect, I will always be His. </span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-58156932778533085572008-08-30T14:24:00.003-04:002008-08-30T14:35:56.855-04:00A Picture Update.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Here are some photos of things that have happened in the last few days. Enjoy!</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCMahLRsU7NBKUPa8BnE3ugYzmHiAgYP5rUFgZLH0qVQAFIgWxQBwfN1wPxBkiOlPd-T5DThBTgMi5eS3gqvhYEsv4g3kP2ttbGrwHfteKDocwjNaySW51YKHsO6uxSMrbfP9gDm1dG-Y/s1600-h/0824081049a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCMahLRsU7NBKUPa8BnE3ugYzmHiAgYP5rUFgZLH0qVQAFIgWxQBwfN1wPxBkiOlPd-T5DThBTgMi5eS3gqvhYEsv4g3kP2ttbGrwHfteKDocwjNaySW51YKHsO6uxSMrbfP9gDm1dG-Y/s400/0824081049a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240378788323918594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;">My kids rockin' out to "We Wanna See Jesus Lifted High". LOVE IT.</span><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1dpAX4OlRU9ySEsgQxUnfkzC5_-aq_shT4ayfRPQgk01feceFmqqzkdQ60UiEEKG_E5ojs1V_G4te7ooUNjHS4lcXHKdbwAh_62bRYS5_71M_46hZxqzxduGmLHtYqcEovgTobhm6dn6/s1600-h/0829081943.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1dpAX4OlRU9ySEsgQxUnfkzC5_-aq_shT4ayfRPQgk01feceFmqqzkdQ60UiEEKG_E5ojs1V_G4te7ooUNjHS4lcXHKdbwAh_62bRYS5_71M_46hZxqzxduGmLHtYqcEovgTobhm6dn6/s400/0829081943.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240378793163643554" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Auntie Cate and Baby Roxy, enjoying some quality family time.</span><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wvZHIC5fxB3FdfGe1ax_hNGK6q2uMC9Vqs8IN5Z0xFIBecT2kPSLhgjdLpKfoFX8pEZTtuDVOheCQuAKDgo66fgD24TMJJivmvE_AvMuYqLmzR_7_74-FsjLcppicU1MhU1WgsgrRMwv/s1600-h/0829082018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wvZHIC5fxB3FdfGe1ax_hNGK6q2uMC9Vqs8IN5Z0xFIBecT2kPSLhgjdLpKfoFX8pEZTtuDVOheCQuAKDgo66fgD24TMJJivmvE_AvMuYqLmzR_7_74-FsjLcppicU1MhU1WgsgrRMwv/s400/0829082018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240378793230949602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">My niece is getting so big!</span><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7JcrU71Qy0BHL1lFJVkBEYoowhh_Zh7cT3IHbSvr4ACRnP1l7ibaoPEtte2cD7ardf7xiHyI2mBL4S3AlmsyQBVLmLB41woHjn2NXOoGWhX4I_nyMp3lLdD5sfGapCXdh4OusnrLVIYs/s1600-h/0829081944.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF7JcrU71Qy0BHL1lFJVkBEYoowhh_Zh7cT3IHbSvr4ACRnP1l7ibaoPEtte2cD7ardf7xiHyI2mBL4S3AlmsyQBVLmLB41woHjn2NXOoGWhX4I_nyMp3lLdD5sfGapCXdh4OusnrLVIYs/s400/0829081944.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240378795381529650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Inside playing with the dogs while everyone else socialized in the kitchen. This is after we got in trouble for reading Jess's "journal". We look a little mischievous. </span><br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ouiXob7Pz5nU8ryLq-WGW2jFb9x9KVlz7OwIsHOuDiV0zeJiFYkRAmANUBqLK_c05XJaDhHKOx-e7E19bRnVjWWhikrR60g_sFHon6-HM6XmC6_k5iFA7jsC4uYFrHZZwTukwLnnC6s2/s1600-h/0829082114.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ouiXob7Pz5nU8ryLq-WGW2jFb9x9KVlz7OwIsHOuDiV0zeJiFYkRAmANUBqLK_c05XJaDhHKOx-e7E19bRnVjWWhikrR60g_sFHon6-HM6XmC6_k5iFA7jsC4uYFrHZZwTukwLnnC6s2/s400/0829082114.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240378796836716130" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;">Debra and I at Jess and Nate's bonfire. The guys were all playing guitars and singing and we were taking pictures, talking and goofing off. </span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">So there you go. A little peek into my not-so-eventful life. Until next time...</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-55685471580560590252008-08-30T13:37:00.004-04:002008-08-30T14:11:33.004-04:00The Small Things.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lately I have been noticing little ways in which God has been blessing me. This past week he gave me an overwhelming sense of peace and joy. But it was actually more than that. To me joy is a constant feeling that stays with us whether we are going through sorrow or if we are having a great day. There is an inexplainable "joy" that comes as a result of having a relationship with God. I remember this feeling even as I endured some of the hardest times of my life. But the last few days God has allowed me to feel happiness again. Happiness is a different type of feeling. It comes and goes and is usually a result of our circumstances. Lately I have felt free. I haven't felt this way in a long time. My friend Jess told me that God has been "refining" me. She has said, "I don't know why He is choosing to do this in such a painful way but He is doing it and the result is going to be something amazing." She is so right! God is working on me. He is forming me into the woman that He wants me to be. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I guess the theme of my past week was contentment, laughter and satisfaction. It didn't come from anything huge, just a lot of little things that made a HUGE difference. I tried to record these things so I can look back on them and remember how God cares so deeply for me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here is my list:</span><br /><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Last Sunday, August 24th</li><ul><li>Spending time with my small group after church. We went out to lunch and then all went to Sam's club. I enjoy spending time with these people. For 2 and a half months I avoided John and Danielle when they invited me to small group activities. I was intimidated and insecure for some reason. Now I'm a little upset at myself because I see that I missed out on 2 and a half months of blessing.</li><li>John, Danielle, Zoey (their dog) and I took a nap in their living room before we headed back to church.</li><li>The staff/board meeting last Sunday night. It was so awesome for me to be able to see and hear the hearts of the board members at our church.<br /></li><li>Jess came over and spent some time with me. We sat on the couches in my house and talked about nothing for three hours.</li></ul></ul><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Monday, August 25th</li><ul><li>I usually have Mondays off but I worked this day. Danielle and I accomplished a lot of stuff for the Children's Ministry. I left work with a feeling of satisfaction and pride.</li></ul></ul><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Tuesday, August 26th</li><ul><li>One of the first graders in my after school program read me his entire reading worksheet. He was learning the sound of the letter "A" like in the word "cat". He was so proud of himself that he knew all of the words! I loved being able to connect with this child.</li><li>I met Jess and Debra at Starbucks after work. They both had things to do because they're in school. I was a complete annoyance to both of them as I distracted them from their work. We ended up staying there for a couple hours laughing and talking.</li></ul></ul><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Wednesday, August 27th</li><ul><li>I had chapel with the preschoolers at the daycare. I taught a lesson on anger and they all paid attention and were very engaged. They are so precious!</li><li>Danielle, Bill, John and I went to lunch and laughed so hard we cried as John told us a story. I had heard the story before so I knew what was coming but it was Bill's first time hearing it. I looked at him and his face was bright red. He had tears streaming down his face and he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Every time I looked at him I laughed harder. We all had sore abs by the end of the lunch.</li><li>I got to have a great conversation with one of the parents from the daycare. She cried when I told her how well her son was doing and how he was blowing me away with his great behavior.</li><li>I spent some time in the kindergarten room. One sweet little boy in that class makes me laugh so hard because he's so cute and he says the greatest things.<br /></li><li>God gave me renewed energy as I spent some time with the kids of the youth group volunteers. We watched a movie and hung out while their parents were upstairs with the teens.</li></ul></ul><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Thursday, August 28th</li><ul><li>Danielle and I had an awesome meeting with our senior pastor. We were able to share with him all of the great things that have been happening in children's ministry and he was very pleased. It felt so good!</li><li>My after school kids are doing better and better everyday. The program is really starting to become what I knew it could be and it makes me proud to know that I had a part in it.</li><li>Jess took me on my first trip to the Goodwill Outlet. That's right people, I said OUTLET. It is a crazy experience. Here's a little clue to how insane it gets in there: everything costs 59cents per pound! Ha!</li></ul></ul><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Friday, August 29th</li><ul><li>I had the day off and got some much needed cleaning done at my house.</li><li>I spent the afternoon/evening with friends. We had dinner and a bonfire at Jess and Nate's.</li></ul></ul><ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><li>Today</li><ul><li>I slept in and just got back from two hours at the pool. Relaxation, anyone?</li></ul></ul><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So you see, it's the little things that have been bringing me so much happiness lately. Nothing huge has happened. Nothing monumental or life changing. God has just been showing me his love through the way he provides ways for me to smile. I am so content exactly where I am. I know that God has placed me here for a reason. I feel so unworthy to be in such a great place, surrounded by incredible people working at a job that I love. I am so thankful for the small things.</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-21021604209666396092008-08-25T21:58:00.009-04:002008-08-25T22:12:47.803-04:00Friends Like That...<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Here are some pictures from our recent photo shoot.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Jess, Nate, Debra, Tim and I were hanging out a couple of weekends ago and we decided it was about time we documented our adventures. These are my friends. They're the kind of people that bring out the best in me, allow me to be myself, make me laugh and love me through it all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Meet my friends:</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCCeE8_mGRweDNHWDcpliL-gypYsh6i_QhXdpkwdl1iPt63PiyMGrnZewZYHOc9OqrdPfCDlJC59eIQQf5nQ6HelmwilPeFkBcnq5D9jNczGu13K1GQ4lxcEqycPrEf4pzxT3Golk9LUj/s1600-h/n34102395_31777285_2539.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCCeE8_mGRweDNHWDcpliL-gypYsh6i_QhXdpkwdl1iPt63PiyMGrnZewZYHOc9OqrdPfCDlJC59eIQQf5nQ6HelmwilPeFkBcnq5D9jNczGu13K1GQ4lxcEqycPrEf4pzxT3Golk9LUj/s400/n34102395_31777285_2539.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238640633277464002" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Jess and Debra have been there through it all. They've seen me at my best and they have definitely seen me at my worst. The crazy thing is, they always come back for more.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmucTGWkBCR8D9R0coA3dBie98ZK6HD-D3ZtegPaMTowQ_GSBJuJYys30RXw8_x0EwQePdLcrFtHxfyodBDma7ltEq_QML7bzhczFSYcz_fUyy3MFvjTG5ngKxmLoVzK81RzavyOJAThc-/s1600-h/n34102395_31777298_6410.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmucTGWkBCR8D9R0coA3dBie98ZK6HD-D3ZtegPaMTowQ_GSBJuJYys30RXw8_x0EwQePdLcrFtHxfyodBDma7ltEq_QML7bzhczFSYcz_fUyy3MFvjTG5ngKxmLoVzK81RzavyOJAThc-/s400/n34102395_31777298_6410.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238641148654232562" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">And...I rest my case.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20by8FfTK_87WstcwbrrACsFeMqWqGV7pGwiwciojbxlz2faLSlAvEj-C51HBYy-rdzh6CWg9rHezibVXlhzerBfGkmzEj8e6mzBL8QHF6qOY2zaE0dMC3gMHovGV2sTfPxFLdgfGTjZk/s1600-h/n34102395_31777302_8558.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20by8FfTK_87WstcwbrrACsFeMqWqGV7pGwiwciojbxlz2faLSlAvEj-C51HBYy-rdzh6CWg9rHezibVXlhzerBfGkmzEj8e6mzBL8QHF6qOY2zaE0dMC3gMHovGV2sTfPxFLdgfGTjZk/s400/n34102395_31777302_8558.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238641761487300770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">We love to laugh.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihouCkPJZuW00JeauZaXBPNsEhpSIXLnHsXnO3T9_fBjqo0l_l0BlNosEZhfHuCd6Kec0yNNb6yUNVe3iyK4bO8VBGIzmnqUMOhjVt3Z1OUFfSKQxGTOxon41s2MsE_b9kfbZBGRbN1-Gd/s1600-h/n34102395_31777310_6884.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihouCkPJZuW00JeauZaXBPNsEhpSIXLnHsXnO3T9_fBjqo0l_l0BlNosEZhfHuCd6Kec0yNNb6yUNVe3iyK4bO8VBGIzmnqUMOhjVt3Z1OUFfSKQxGTOxon41s2MsE_b9kfbZBGRbN1-Gd/s400/n34102395_31777310_6884.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238642188113369154" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">All of us...<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlTxqGIasR_0HRqNZevpFgglsi7LjrWvC6LdNOjaGJK5uuxq9RlANNKz5KcaLLgAjv8lsnvenLWbrmsHT_7Ew4c5fgLxiuAHJa3Jsjpx3QwHmUeJkUkyOyt8dgWO4v1286QbgN7GaMBxC/s1600-h/n34102395_31777314_1045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwlTxqGIasR_0HRqNZevpFgglsi7LjrWvC6LdNOjaGJK5uuxq9RlANNKz5KcaLLgAjv8lsnvenLWbrmsHT_7Ew4c5fgLxiuAHJa3Jsjpx3QwHmUeJkUkyOyt8dgWO4v1286QbgN7GaMBxC/s400/n34102395_31777314_1045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238642531776732514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">You may not understand it...but it makes sense to us.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJaiCmqvjo3kj4-hiHnePNabYeF_sp7ftLBKeTnAvlJsaAlkEMc72S0kuEOPHMQocXBzt4fuY1O7hMjYnRfaPaZBXuxf2_RLILEy2XpBzbtSR2tHsopxQIhYfuBlwCvz2Isp7_3X2QESg/s1600-h/n34102395_31777335_5684.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJaiCmqvjo3kj4-hiHnePNabYeF_sp7ftLBKeTnAvlJsaAlkEMc72S0kuEOPHMQocXBzt4fuY1O7hMjYnRfaPaZBXuxf2_RLILEy2XpBzbtSR2tHsopxQIhYfuBlwCvz2Isp7_3X2QESg/s400/n34102395_31777335_5684.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238642810155356754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">There are no words.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I am constantly amazed and humbled by the way that God has provided for me. I realize that not everyone has the opportunity to live life with such amazing people. Why do I deserve this? I have no idea. But I do know that I am truly blessed to know these people.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-44752650700733563912008-08-23T22:54:00.001-04:002008-08-23T22:55:17.487-04:00Surrender.<p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">Lately it’s been difficult for me to gather my thoughts.<span style=""> </span>I feel like I’m running about a million miles a minute and doing everything I can not to get burnt out.<span style=""> </span>God has been teaching me again about what it means to trust him.<span style=""> </span>It’s easy for me to trust and believe when everything in my life is going well.<span style=""> </span>In fact, usually when life gets “easy” I try to take control of things for myself. I like to be in control. I like to think that I am the one with the wisdom and knowledge. But then God reminds me, sometimes painfully, that my plan is worthless.<span style=""> </span>I am immediately forced to place my trust back in him and realize that I am nothing without my Savior.<span style=""> </span>I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to remember that. </p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">I don’t want to be the kind of person that pushes God to the side when things are going well and only calls on Him when my circumstances get difficult.<span style=""> </span>The thing is, you’d think I would have learned my lesson by now.<span style=""> </span>I’ve been through some difficult “lean-on-God” type of moments and yet I continually forget that God is there everyday, even when I think I have everything under control.<span style=""> </span>I guess this is where His grace comes in. I am so incapable of being perfect.<span style=""> </span>The beautiful thing is, my God knows that and He loves me anyway.<span style=""> </span>He doesn’t expect me to have it all figured out.<span style=""> </span>He doesn’t want me to be independent.<span style=""> </span>He wants me to surrender my desires and live totally, completely, entirely dependent on Him. </p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">So why is that so hard? Why do I want so badly to take control?<span style=""> </span></p> <p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal">I guess the time that this is most difficult for me is when things happen that I have no control over, when people in my life make decisions that I hate but can not change.<span style=""> </span>I’ve realized more than ever before that just as much as I can not control everything about my own life, I also can not control the hearts, actions, or wants of other people. It’s a challenging thing to surrender relationships and expectations to God but I KNOW that that is exactly what he is asking me to do right now.<span style=""> </span>It’s hard to make boundaries and it’s even more painful to stick to them. And yet I know that without certain boundaries in my life I can not function the way that I am supposed to.<span style=""> </span>Sometimes I wonder why God allows certain things to happen in our lives. Why does he allow people to die unexpectedly? Why does he allow our families to fall apart? Why does he allow us to love people that don’t love us back?<span style=""> </span>Why does he allow us to have faith in people that don’t deserve it?<span style=""> </span>I have so many questions that I’m not sure will ever be answered.<span style=""> </span>The only thing I can think to bring me comfort is the fact that if I didn’t have all of these questions I would not need God. If I knew the answer to everything, if I was capable of keeping everything under control then God would be worthless.<span style=""> </span>However, my lack of knowing, my lack of perfection and my incapability (as incredibly frustrating as they may be) keep me humble.<span style=""> </span>These things remind me that God is totally, absolutely, without a doubt in control. <span style=""> </span>He is the same always, never changing and always loving.<span style=""> </span>I am so undeserving of His grace and yet he continues to shower me with it. Now there’s a lesson in humility.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-23062888439647882542008-08-20T21:41:00.005-04:002008-08-20T21:48:05.832-04:00This too Shall Pass<span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">"I've achieved so much in life<br />But I’m an amateur in love<br />My bank account is doing just fine<br />But my emotions are bankrupt<br /><br />My body is nice and strong<br />But my heart is in a million pieces<br />When the sun is shining so am I<br />But when the night falls so does my tears<br /><br />Sometimes the beatings so loud in my heart<br />That I can barely tell our voices apart<br />Sometimes the fear is so loud in my head<br />That I can barely hear what God says<br /><br />Then I hear a whisper that this too shall pass<br />I hear the angels whisper that this too shall pass<br />So I walk in faith that this too shall pass<br /><br />The one that loved me the most<br />Turned around and hurt me the worse<br />I’m doing my best to move on<br />But the pain just keeps singing me songs<br /><br />My head and my heart are at war<br />Cause love ain't happening the way I wanted<br />Feel like I’m about to break down<br />Can’t hear the light at the end of the tunnel<br /><br />So I pray for healing in my heart<br />To be put back together what is torn apart<br />And I pray for quiet in my head<br />That I can hear clearly what God says<br /><br />Then I hear the whisper that this too shall pass<br />I hear the Angels whisper that this too shall pass<br />So I walk in faith that this too shall pass<br /><br />All of sudden I realize<br />That it only hurts worse to fight it<br />So I embrace my shadow<br />And hold on to the morning light<br /><br />This Too Shall Pass<br />I hear the angels whisper<br />that troubles don't have to last always<br />I hear the angels whisper<br />Even the day after tomorrow will one day be yesterday.<br />I hear my angels whisper.<br />I hear my angels whisper.<br />This too shall pass."</span><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">-India.Arie</span></span><br /></div>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-23737173484688631052008-08-12T19:38:00.009-04:002008-08-12T22:04:53.572-04:00The Hawkeye State<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ggxUfVIyLv3iJFv-mOulXUrO3C_aAZsXnb0A1LcW9P82eAgT09Pkv2INXJRdVBDfNd1EqrSJ0puIcK_Ewb4xaULSHbg4A4fC6PVLmC83mV2tkdAavDeXUA0GSOMDMiNtba-LLh9y6pzH/s1600-h/0802081217a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ggxUfVIyLv3iJFv-mOulXUrO3C_aAZsXnb0A1LcW9P82eAgT09Pkv2INXJRdVBDfNd1EqrSJ0puIcK_Ewb4xaULSHbg4A4fC6PVLmC83mV2tkdAavDeXUA0GSOMDMiNtba-LLh9y6pzH/s400/0802081217a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233785389201308274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">My dad and I at the '09 Harley-Davidson roll out. They introduced all of the '09 models to the public for the first time. There were tons of people at the Harley shop waiting in anticipation to see the updated bikes. Every time I go to a biker event I am absolutely fascinated with the culture and the people that show up there. There are some funny characters at these things.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I recently took a trip home to spend some time with my dad. He has had a rough couple of months and I knew that I could cheer him up. I packed up my car, went to work and left Indiana straight from church on a Wednesday night. I got in the car at 6pm Indiana time and arrived home at 12am Iowa time. Needless to say, I was going crazy! I love driving. Usually it is very relaxing to me because it gives me a chance to be alone with my thoughts. I put my iPod on shuffle, turn on the cruise control and just chill. However, this time I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. My thoughts have been kind of crazy lately with everything that's been going on. By the time I made it to the Iowa border I was ready to give up but I bravely persevered and made it back to the 'Loo safe and sound. My poor dad was sound asleep by the time I got there because he had to get up and work at 5:30 the next morning. I said hi to him, put my stuff in my room and headed over to the newlyweds' house for the first time since they unpacked all of their stuff. Jennie was waiting for me at the front door. We both screamed and ran to each other like we do every time we reunite. We're best friends. It's what we do.</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRYCAdZJRdWMavIhnfRjGHOjFyDbK4rBllFsAg4zmnonAyyaUE9QvI7JJpSceiFp4SvtN2jF_jrdMbe73uDdUk05Tryiv_NY9IOkDjtokeY8Q5kN_iaNHOpCFNc-2BNZ51DHFnw8mAvdB/s1600-h/famvid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRYCAdZJRdWMavIhnfRjGHOjFyDbK4rBllFsAg4zmnonAyyaUE9QvI7JJpSceiFp4SvtN2jF_jrdMbe73uDdUk05Tryiv_NY9IOkDjtokeY8Q5kN_iaNHOpCFNc-2BNZ51DHFnw8mAvdB/s400/famvid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233785175510401490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Jennie, Dave and I rented a movie on Friday night and started to watch it at their house. However, now that I am a real adult and have a job which requires me to keep a normal schedule, I fell asleep and ended up having to leave before the movie was even half way over with. Oops.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnNJCxnjxy9uam85Zt_fpea65LtWy0BpRNBCAdV3H1vZyxz0ClYjVumUjZyuy_qO1Cpl3R7W4N7oYeIdazZKUIdprcDEDXFk_FufnhIF82XGgy5S9NYCKGc2YqZ4a50icrK7xqhq_8JgR/s1600-h/famvid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnNJCxnjxy9uam85Zt_fpea65LtWy0BpRNBCAdV3H1vZyxz0ClYjVumUjZyuy_qO1Cpl3R7W4N7oYeIdazZKUIdprcDEDXFk_FufnhIF82XGgy5S9NYCKGc2YqZ4a50icrK7xqhq_8JgR/s400/famvid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233785020589418050" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">This is us, being best friends, doing what we do.<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Their house is beautiful! The best part is their awesome porch area. We sat out there for about ten minutes, until Dave got home and then moved our little party inside to avoid the sticky, wet, disgusting Iowa humidity. The three of us sat together like we always do, laughing and arguing and laughing and talking and laughing some more until finally I couldn't handle one more second of social interaction. I headed home to bed and woke up the next morning to an empty house. It was nice to be home and relax for a while until my dad got back from work. Of course as soon as he got home we jumped on the motorcycle, went for a ride and went out to eat. It's great to spend time together just the two of us. We had a lot of time to talk through some stuff that's been going on and I know it was good for him to have someone to process it all with. My dad constantly amazes me by the way that he handles the tough stuff in life. He constantly says, "We can't control what others do but we can control the way that we react to what they do. My response is my responsibility." That is a typical Dan Stephens phrase.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYDRtNi_lL6RDd4Vu9poQUfyY8purHMoW4zhrxswpLam7lZ_wcyWgPj_mSRnV_qppPCcuWIaOAmtJ7F61QioRjWd3nQYbwrxWvo4mXXBJ3AhuovtZjkwR3dpVJ17elTB29gBSLwmIP0ce/s1600-h/0801082038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZYDRtNi_lL6RDd4Vu9poQUfyY8purHMoW4zhrxswpLam7lZ_wcyWgPj_mSRnV_qppPCcuWIaOAmtJ7F61QioRjWd3nQYbwrxWvo4mXXBJ3AhuovtZjkwR3dpVJ17elTB29gBSLwmIP0ce/s400/0801082038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233785275642885442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">All of the Bauers came over on Friday night for a cook out. It's pretty typical for them to come over once a week in the summer. I miss our family get-togethers so it was great for me to see them! Levi and I went into the den and sat in the big chair together while he practiced his harmonica. I turned off all of the lights in the room except the one that is over the chair. We called it his "spotlight" and he ended up doing a concert for all of us on his "stage." We were all dying laughing the entire time.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">After spending a couple of much needed days at home I jumped back in the car on Saturday and drove back to my new home in Indiana so that I could be here for church on Sunday morning. We had a great time in Kid's Church and then enjoyed a picnic with all of our VBS volunteers. I love spending time with the families in a relaxed and casual setting. I always end up playing with the kids while the adults talk. I can't help it though! When a sweet little four year old boy begs me to play on the playground with him I just can't say no! One of my sweet little boys asked me if I would hang out with him after he finished his lunch. I knew that I was supposed to be socializing with the parents so I tried to stay out of his eyesight as long as I could, hoping that he would forget about me and leave me to be with the adults. But then after about 30 minutes he came up to me and said with a sad face, "Miss Cady, did you forget?" It makes me want to squeal right now just thinking about it! I politely excused myself from whatever conversation I was a part of and joined my little pal on the playground. It was well worth it! I have so much fun with my kids every time we're together.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Things at work have been pretty much insane. We are planning for our fall programs and we're right in the middle of recruiting volunteers (which is BY FAR the most difficult part of my job). Right now I am praising God because we have had such a great response and have had a lot of people sign up to help for the fall. I am praying for about four more adults for Sunday mornings and 5 more for Wednesday nights. I have faith that it is all going to come together and our kids will be blown away when everything starts up again! Until then I have a lot of busy days at work, crazy weekends full of church activities and sleepless nights. I think I'm going to start sleeping with a notepad next to my bed because I wake up at least once a night with new plans and ideas that I need to write down. Gosh! I feel like I'm going a million miles a minute! I know that soon things will slow down and I will get into a regular routine but until then I just thank God when I make it through the day.</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-669679577308762550.post-88429552897879484872008-07-28T10:57:00.004-04:002008-07-28T11:30:59.553-04:00CateFest'08<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So birthdays in the Stephens' family are usually a pretty big deal. For some reason my mom always made a huge production out of every birthday. Every year on July 24th before I fell asleep my mom and dad would climb in bed with me and tell me the story of how I was such a sick little baby. They would tell me all about their experience from the time I was delivered to when I was driven in an NICU ambulance to Des Moines to when my heart stopped beating, to my blood transfusion and on and on. Every year I just sort of sat there and listened because I obviously don't remember any of it. It all seems so weird to me now. Needless to say, my birthday is a time when I really REALLY miss my mom. Moms have a way of making you feel special unlike anyone else in the world. This year my friends did a really good job of making me feel special. It ended up being three days of celebration, starting with line dancing on Thursday night with Jess and Deb.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">They had been telling me for a week not to make any plans on Thursday night because they had a surprise for me. They wouldn't tell me where we were going or what we were doing. The only hint I got was that I needed to dress like a cowgirl. We all met at Jess's house on Thursday night after work. It was kind of funny because I had to drive so Jess was telling me directions and I blindly followed her commands. We ended up at the 8 Second Saloon in a part of Indianapolis that I have never even seen before. As we pulled up we saw a couple in their mid-fifties walking out in their western get-ups. We were giggling the entire time! The last time I went line dancing was in a sketchy looking farmer hang out off the interstate 380 in Iowa. That place was a little less than glamorous but we had a good time. It was a couple of years ago and the main thing I remember is that I was TERRIBLE at the steps. I don't know how my mom was a professional dancer and I can hardly handle the hokey pokey. My shyness definitely comes out on the dance floor and Thursday night was no exception. Finally the girls made me go out and join in the choreographed cowboy steps and I managed to do a pretty decent job. It ended up being a night full of surprises and lots of laughs. We had such a good time being girls and enjoying each other. It was fun to dress up and pretend to be somebody else for a night. This kind of thing is so far out of my comfort zone but I always ended up loving it when I'm done. I even two-stepped! That was probably the funniest part of the night because my poor partner didn't know what to do with my extreme clumsiness. It ended up being ok though because he made up for my mistakes.<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRdl6poZ4zBphssFhiLT9f2_5b8l-gqFZtSgWo4C4V2Kj2O52_YumEXQcKi74d4AsLvZOwjjwt3vcbCDwITL0lHReycFKEIvCNCagXIlNkVq_3OTEnhQgjA4NGdEEvL7rvkrOnw6LtjsoF/s1600-h/n161501385_31278853_4134.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRdl6poZ4zBphssFhiLT9f2_5b8l-gqFZtSgWo4C4V2Kj2O52_YumEXQcKi74d4AsLvZOwjjwt3vcbCDwITL0lHReycFKEIvCNCagXIlNkVq_3OTEnhQgjA4NGdEEvL7rvkrOnw6LtjsoF/s400/n161501385_31278853_4134.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228086664993836898" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The three of us enjoying our night as cowgirls...<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkAC7So-5j6jTptMsmHVKq9M3JuUUNA69betMTQSMBhzRqbNG55xzajNqMwWYMIdEsZ1jkExKuiEw1J3gCCsODCo7x_YeoJdBWFETh2wHVKUcms3f_cTki4pu1Pfqy_aZf2gRiD1atlhU/s1600-h/n161501385_31278855_6240.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkAC7So-5j6jTptMsmHVKq9M3JuUUNA69betMTQSMBhzRqbNG55xzajNqMwWYMIdEsZ1jkExKuiEw1J3gCCsODCo7x_YeoJdBWFETh2wHVKUcms3f_cTki4pu1Pfqy_aZf2gRiD1atlhU/s400/n161501385_31278855_6240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228086765269445746" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Jess and I. I didn't really follow the directions for the picture. Long story.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-Z68frTdkf6q0CXh91Ba6t4reqLBkH0ADtbyfG9I_D_ZSBmk25PKLDi_8mBXZbL8CyyJ3ObGpufpyx1I2aK5MU6-Z7LOWvF5YaHkX-FPk-sOPSXIkCCom6PmBzoFK0NW0MqDMm1peh7H/s1600-h/n161501385_31278849_3109.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-Z68frTdkf6q0CXh91Ba6t4reqLBkH0ADtbyfG9I_D_ZSBmk25PKLDi_8mBXZbL8CyyJ3ObGpufpyx1I2aK5MU6-Z7LOWvF5YaHkX-FPk-sOPSXIkCCom6PmBzoFK0NW0MqDMm1peh7H/s400/n161501385_31278849_3109.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228086242040541698" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Throwin' the deuces for my 22nd birthday.<br /> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEsAVkungPdtfin2lbKFdCrFAArUwaUNh8OSEYu6EQfaxbOPSaQC7TMDPCL5B7eCz_7VDPXw2JNoHXYPtB0ZOXn4GJdiBy0NkIUCfNU6BX7SvHfk-YWWukCLh7jJZZ71z_mJLZChfc7UL/s1600-h/n161501385_31278851_4937.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEsAVkungPdtfin2lbKFdCrFAArUwaUNh8OSEYu6EQfaxbOPSaQC7TMDPCL5B7eCz_7VDPXw2JNoHXYPtB0ZOXn4GJdiBy0NkIUCfNU6BX7SvHfk-YWWukCLh7jJZZ71z_mJLZChfc7UL/s400/n161501385_31278851_4937.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228086594806554418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Doing the 22 Two Step.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBSMNoBZZN5IJMGdKR2CFGAgKuLZ4NPhm0TbaTq4WK9tm6wuXFLHdUFmUVzrBv6ZTU1a39x-E6aoasXFfipoP9eN693bOY8xORAdWX8g71tclrzBaPQkSCPdLfpeQbfy7UjDmYB1ItC-n/s1600-h/n161501385_31278847_953.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBSMNoBZZN5IJMGdKR2CFGAgKuLZ4NPhm0TbaTq4WK9tm6wuXFLHdUFmUVzrBv6ZTU1a39x-E6aoasXFfipoP9eN693bOY8xORAdWX8g71tclrzBaPQkSCPdLfpeQbfy7UjDmYB1ItC-n/s400/n161501385_31278847_953.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228086487141817362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Deb and I.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The celebration continued on Friday (my actual birthday) at work. The ladies from the office took me out for a nice lunch and forced me to wear an extremely obnoxious hat in the shape of the star that said "party". People stared at me and I looked away every time because I hate calling attention to myself. It was so nice that they took the time to celebrate my birthday with me. I felt so loved and appreciated! </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">All week long I had been asking my daycare kids, "Who's birthday is on Friday?!" And they would all say, "It's yours, Miss Cady!" I promised them that I would bring treats for their afternoon snack so I went out and bought popsicles and cookies and brought them in on Friday afternoon. I bopped into the room with my crazy star hat on and yelled, "It's party time!" They all SCREAMED and dropped what they were doing to join me at the snack table. They sang happy birthday and ate way too much sugar. I looked around after we were done and half of them had bright blue mouths. Their teeth, lips, and tongues were stained from their birthday treats. I think that partying with kids is the most fun. The simplest thing ends up being such a big deal to them!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My sister came into town on Friday night and was at my apartment when I got home from work. She did my hair and we laughed as we talked about our lives and the funny things that have happened to us lately. Then we went to dinner at the Melting Pot and enjoyed some birthday fondue. I got us incredibly lost on our way there and we ended up driving up and down 82nd street for 20 minutes before I realized we were supposed to be on 86th. Oops. We ended our night at the movie theater where we saw the late showing of "Mamma Mia!" We were both so tired by the end of it that we came home and went straight to bed. The next day we went to breakfast, bought books at Target, and laid out by the pool until Crissa had to go. It was a perfect day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Cammi and I had a bunch of friends over on Saturday night. There ended up being about 10 people here and it was a great time hanging out and story telling. A bunch of our friends from Indy came along with my friend Jess from school. My friend Tim called and said he was in town from Nashville so he ended up coming over too. It was the perfect end to a perfect birthday!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Until next year...</span>Cady Schmidthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04375604581815796870noreply@blogger.com0