That’s The God I Love

I thought of this post recently and did not realize that it had been 8 years since I shared it. My how time flies! Anyhow, I still feel the same now as I did back then concerning the incarnation. Jesus is truly wonderful!

Write At Home

 

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What if God were to come to earth as a law enforcement officer?  I’m sure I would have the utmost of respect for him, being taught at a young age to have respect for those in authority. I’ve no doubt He would do a wonderful job at keeping law and order, but I wonder what kind of relationship I would have with Him. Somehow, it seems like it would be stiff and cool, and I think I would have a hard time feeling like it wasn’t “official business” every time we met.

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What if God decided to come to earth as a superhero? Considering the fact that He is all knowing and all powerful, I’d expect Him to be a superhero that is unequaled.  He would be there to rescue me from the most dire circumstances and always in the nick of time. I’m afraid I…

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Luisa’s Baptism

  1. Yesterday was a happy day for Luisa and our church as we witnessed her being baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of her sins. For me, it never gets old to see someone getting baptized or receiving the Holy Ghost. There is nothing like this precious Acts 2:38 new birth experience! I’m looking forward to seeing what God will do in Luisa’s life as she continues to grow in Him!!

San Antonio Trip(Part 2)

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The speaker for the anniversary services at Alamo City Apostolic Church was Pastor Joel Booker of Rialto, Ca. He did an outstanding job of preaching the Word and walking in the Holy Ghost. If you’re interested in hearing his message that was preached on Sunday “And The Waters Prevailed”(I may have gotten the title wrong, but it was something like that.), you can click on the following link. If you want a greater understanding and appreciation of baptism in Jesus’ name, this is for you.

 

http://www.alamocityapostolic.org/listen      Click on the tracks icon and go to ACAC 8th anniversary day 3

 

 

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Pastor Connell(my hubby)teaching at theological seminar on Saturday morning

 

This seminar started very early for a Saturday(8 a.m), but the early birds that attended received a whole lot more than worms through the in depth teaching of Pastor Kelly Nix and Pastor Pete Connell.

Someone told me afterwards that my husband was so smart. I got to thinking about this later. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying that opposites attract? It seems to be true in a lot of cases. My husband is an extrovert, and I’m an introvert. So, if my husband is so smart, well, I guess I’m……………………………….!       🙂

Seriously though, my husband put so much time and effort into preparing for this. There were many nights beforehand when I would wake up at 2 or 3 in the morning, and he would still be in his study. I don’t know how he did it, but he did. If you would like to hear the theological seminar you can click on the same link above, go to the track icon and select ICAT seminar Pastor Kelly Nix, Pastor Pete Connell.

 

 

San Antonio Trip(Part 1)

This past week, our family was blessed to be able to go to San Antonio Texas for the purposes of

-attending Jen’s graduation from ICAT(Institute of Conservative Apostolic Theology)

-being with my hubby/Jen and Paul’s dad as he taught a theological seminar

-celebrating anniversary services with Alamo City Apostolic Church in San Antonio, Texas

I have some pictures(although they are not very good)that I hope to share soon. I tried posting some of them, but was having difficulties, first on my laptop, then on my phone. (There is a part of me that feels like screaming right now.) I’m afraid I’m somewhat of a technological dingbat, and will need to enlist the help of my son.

Stayed tuned for more…………………………………..hopefully soon!

Update-Through a rigorous distance learning program(my son instructing me through texts), I now can post some pictures.

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Jennifer is giving her graduation speech. I’m so proud of her. She worked hard on her capstone project. It about done her in, but bless her heart, she finished it!

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This is Dr.(Brother)Shane Milazzo addressing and admonishing the graduates and all who were present to “dig deeper”. He did an excellent job.

 

 

Jen and Paul are standing with Sister Garcia. We were honored to stay at the beautiful home of Brother and Sister Garcia, and I hope to share more about this wonderful couple in a future post.img_3234

 

Time is running short for me now, but I just want to say, “Congratulations, Jen!” I am proud of your accomplishments and so thankful to God for the fine, young lady you have become.

Fat Bones Monday

” The light of the eyes rejoiceth the heart: and a good report maketh the bones fat.” Proverbs 15:30

This sweet 10 year old girl received the Holy Ghost this past Friday night. If the angels rejoice over one sinner that repents, (Lk. 15:7,10) I wonder what they do when that repentant sinner receives the precious gift of the Holy Ghost. I’m thankful and still rejoicing today.👏🏻🙌🏻

H.O.O.F. 2016

This past Saturday our church had the opportunity to participate in the Heart Of Oakley Festival, which was held in the downtown area of our city. We had a booth where we gave out free bottled water, made balloon animals for kids, passed out church invitations and literature and offered people a chance to win a $50 gift card to a local restaurant by filling out a brief survey. Here are a few pics from the event.


These are set up photos. The triangular thing at the end of the table is a lollipop tree. Kids could pick out a lollipop, and if they pulled one out with blue marker on the stick, they would win a $5 gift card to McDonalds.


Sis. Miranda getting ready to give away some ice cold waters.


People visiting our booth.


Some of our young people stood in a shady spot across the street from the booth and made balloon animals to give away along with invitations to children’s church.


It was a super hot day in the high 90’s. Our booth was just a few yards away from the city water fountain. I had chugged a bunch of cold water but was still roasting. I saw children running under the fountain and getting soaked. “Should I?” I privately asked myself. My inner child was screaming, “Do it!” Hmm, didn’t Jesus say, “Except ye become as little children…..”  Okay, I didn’t really think that, but I did make the decision to go ahead and get wet. It felt so good! 😅

Although it was a hot day, it was also fun, and I know God blesses our efforts. I was proud of everyone who came out and worked hard. What we do for the kingdom is not in vain.

Saved From What I Might Have Been

37 years ago on this day, God changed the direction of my life as I repented of my sins, was baptized in Jesus’ name and gloriously filled with the gift of the Holy Ghost. I am so grateful for that day that I had a life changing encounter with the living God, and His mercy rewrote my life! If you want to read my story, you’re welcome to click on the “my testimony” page on the side bar. I shudder when I consider the direction my life could have taken, had it not been for the Lord’s intervention.

This old chorus expresses how I feel today.

 

I might have been a drifter

tossed upon life’s sea

I might have been forsaken

lost eternally

I might have been an outcast

but in love, You took me in

I thank you Lord for saving me

from what I might have been.

 

 

 

Bob’s Bug Jar

Happy Birthday to my middle brother, Bob! It’s hard to believe that my younger brother is 49. In honor of your birthday and for memories sake, I want to share the article you wrote many years ago about our childhood time in the chicken coop. Although I’ve read this many times, it never ceases to bring tears to my eyes. I thank God for our family!

 

The Bug Jar

When I was a kid, not yet old enough to be enrolled in any science classes, I used to conduct experiments of my own.  One of my favorites was the Bug Jar Experiment.  It consisted of three states:  In Stage One, I would obtain an empty mayonnaise jar and collect as many different kinds of bugs I could find-spiders, worms, ladybugs, tiny red and giant black ants, bees, a centipede (if I was lucky), an occasional wasp, those roly-poly bugs that no one knew the real name for, crickets, grasshoppers, caterpillars, anything that creeped, crawled or disgusted my sisters was fair game.  In Stage Two, I would shake the jar vigorously.  In Stage Three, my favorite, I would watch delightedly as the imprisoned insects bit, stung and generally destroyed each other.  Ironically (and justly, I suppose), when I got to be a bit older, the tables turned, and I experienced the bug jar for myself.

In the fall of 1974, my family had to give up a spacious, three-bedroom home with a big backyard to move into a chicken coop turned recreation room, but to us Home.  The edifice boasted a 15 x 30 foot span; no bigger than our former living room; a mere bug jar,  if you will.  We went into the venture expecting the worst.  Rather than tearing the family apart, however, being thrown into very close quarters under less than ideal conditions actually strengthened our relationships.

We called our new abode “the closet”, because to us, it seemed just about the size of a rich person’s wardrobe.  There was no room for complaining though (literally!).  After all, it was far from the gang-ridden neighborhood we had left behind; it was close to good schools; it was clean, it was much easier on my Mom’s filing clerk salary, and it came furnished with the best hand-me-down furniture that pity could buy.  So Mom told the six of us kids to make the best of it.  We were a Brady Bunch of sorts, with three girls and three boys ranging in age from five to fifteen, but no Alice to do the housework.  Also, we came in two generations:  The “big kids” were each born a year apart, and after a gap of five years came us “babies”, also born one year apart.

Peeking through the battered screen door after we had settled in, our curious neighbors beheld a new concept in interior design:  An afghan-covered couch next to the stove, an army cot bordered by our giant, prehistoric, dust-laden television set, a dining table surrounded by bunk beds.  You see, “the closet” had no rooms.  A tiny bathroom in the northwest corner, with a carpeted sliding door, provided the only privacy in the place.

This was new to us, and at first, we absorbed our living arrangements haltingly and delicately, like couples in a pre-arranged marriage.  Inevitably though, the fighting began.  Some of the most heated battles were waged over bathroom privileges.  Finally, we came up with a “calling” system to schedule bath times.  Cries of “First bath!”  “Second bath!”  “Third bath!” and so on were commonly shouted out in the waking hours, but only led to more arguments as calls were contested and challenged later.

Once while Mom was “using the facilities”, Johnny and I broke into a wrestling match right outside the bathroom door.  One thing led to another, and at the height of our struggle, we lost our balance, slammed into the bathroom door, knocked it off its hinges, and fell clinging to each other and the door onto the bathroom floor.  Mom screamed, powerless to chase us from her seated position, while we scrambled to fix the door and scurry away.

More often though, we were forced to depend on each other, to work together to overcome obstacles imposed upon us by our lack.  Laundry and kitchen duties had to be split and shared by all.  Providing enough food for six hungry, growing children was a constant struggle for my mom.  I remember times when ketchup packets and a hunk of government-issued cheese were the only things left in the fridge.  Whether we liked it or not, we had to share.  Though it was a small area, our home was heated by an aging, rusted space heater, located near the door.  On cold wintry mornings before school, while waiting for the bathroom to free up, the rest of us huddled together in front of the heater, wrapped in blankets, shivering in anticipation of the metallic clicking sound that signaled the release of a fresh blast of hot air.  That nondescript old heater became a great equalizer, bringing us together, if momentarily, to share warmth and exchange conversation at the start of the day.

Because we had no rooms of our own, we had no secrets; what one went through, we all experienced.  One dark night, returning home from work, Tom unknowingly rolled over a skunk with his bike.  When he got home, we immediately smelled the stench, except Tom, of course.  Strangely enough, the skunk encounter provided a bonding experience as we each offered creative, often ridiculous solutions for getting rid of the smell.

Then there was Mike Mester, a gangling youth from a neighboring community, who spotted my oldest sister Karen at a roller rink and immediately fell for her.  Not knowing her name or anything about her, he somehow tracked her down to our humble dwelling place.  He knocked on the front door; my mom answered.  He inquired after this mystery girl he had met at the roller rink.  Immediately, five more heads appeared at the door, checking out the tall stranger, while one head disappeared quickly into the bathroom hiding.  Mike instantly formed the impression that this was going to be a package deal, and he was right.  We couldn’t help but cheer and jeer from the sidelines as Mike and Karen embarked upon each new phase of their sometimes stormy but long-lasting relationship.

A flood of memories stirs in me when I think back to those bug jar days.  I remember us “babies” clinging to each other in the bottom bunk in fear and joy, begging Tom in the top bunk to be the “werewolf” again.  I remember Carol sharing with us her dark and searching poetry and inspiring me to try some of my own.  I remember the generational gap closing as Tom treated his kid brothers to pizza and bowling or Karen and Carol fixed Annie’s hair.  And why is it I recall the neighbor kids, with their nice houses and families of their own, always wanting to spend the night at our place?

We lived there for almost 12-1/2 years.  And a strange thing began to happen as we made the best of it in the “closet”.  We went from being siblings and a single parent, thrown and shaken together, to being friends; lifelong friends that time, distance and circumstances have not separated.

The Best Birthday Present Ever!

 

 

 

 

 

 

21 years ago on this day, God gave me the best birthday present ever. I gave birth to a wonderful baby girl whom we named Jennifer Elise. I’m thankful to still be enjoying this “living” gift 21 years later. Happy Birthday, Jen! I love you and am so proud of the fine young Christian lady that you have become. I know you have to work, but regardless, I hope you enjoy your special day. By the way, just in case you are wondering, Jen does not make a habit out of dressing in Medieval garb. This was a costume she was wearing for Kid’s Church. 🙂