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Pass the disc, hold the sexism

I admit I am not the most athletic person I know. I’m actually kinda klutzy sometimes. BUT, I LOVE sports. Love to play them! And I think with practice I could probably get pretty good at a couple of them. Even at my kids’ ages, I notice blatant sexism occurring, even though some of the girls run faster and shoot better. A great message overall. :)

He is risen!

I could feel it today: the beauty of His resurrection, the immensity of His grace, the vastness of His love, the unending nature of His sovereignty. How incredible that He reaches down from His throne and saves. I look beyond the small things, and see instead so much of God’s goodness that my heart wants to burst. I think extended family dinners give me some of my favourite days of the year - something so simple as chilling with the cousins on the front porch, feet swung over the side of a Muskoka chair, throwing around a football in a field, or having relaxed teacher chats over tea at the end of a delicious meal…all of these things give me great contentment. There is a safety and security in knowing that these people will always be your family, that these houses will always be home. There is a comforting rhythm of arrival, food, outdoors, sports game on the tv and feet up on the coffee table. Sprawled out on the floor with the dog lying next to you. Grandma in the backseat sharing smiles. I am so blessed it makes me emotional. And these are just the earthly gifts! None of it merited or deserved. All I can do is look heavenward and say the only paltry thing I have to say - thank you.

Happy Easter. He is risen indeed.

perseidbadger:

the best kind of friendships are fierce lady friendships where you aggressively believe in each other, defend each other, and think the other deserves the world.

I love the term “aggressively believe” - very much how I feel about my girls. Like I would kick anyone who:

-talks trash about them
-does anything to disrespect them
-hurts them

very hard, where it counts.

He did not know how long it took, but later he looked back on this time of crying in the corner of the dark cave and thought of it as when he learned the most important rule of survival, which was that feeling sorry for yourself didn’t work. It wasn’t just that it was wrong to do, or that it was considered incorrect. It was more than that - it didn’t work. When he sat alone in the darkness and cried and was done, all done with it, nothing had changed. His leg still hurt, it was still dark, he was still alone and the self-pity had accomplished nothing.
Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen
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