<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243</id><updated>2011-08-02T20:45:42.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Breezy Feelin'</title><subtitle type='html'>Annotations by Wendy Tingle</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-554670165486687623</id><published>2011-04-16T06:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T06:51:00.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanting it All</title><content type='html'>Take a look at this three minute video to learn more on what we will be discussing tomorrow morning! See you in the morning. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o31rcOUPviw&amp;amp;feature=email"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o31rcOUPviw&amp;amp;feature=email&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-554670165486687623?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/554670165486687623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=554670165486687623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/554670165486687623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/554670165486687623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/04/wanting-it-all.html' title='Wanting it All'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-2462975228974160804</id><published>2011-04-16T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T06:46:43.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we all slothful?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 255px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596175986503159346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tnWxILZBrZ0/TamcaPAXjjI/AAAAAAAAAN8/hAcDujFHmN8/s320/cereal.jpg" /&gt;We've studied the first three deadly sins...Envy, being no self love and Vainglory, being rejecting God's love. This last week we studied Sloth, being a lack of love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do we evaluate sloth by reflecting upon the laziness and its people in this world? The internet sure does...in understanding whether a person is slothful, the internet asks questions about how much tv we would watch if we didn't have a remote, what time we get up on the weekend, and how many times a week we eat cereal as a non-breakfast meal. Thank God for the internet to clarify our commitment to this deadly sin! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I truly wonder how the animal, a sloth, is attributed to slothfulness. Have you ever tried to hang upside down for an extended period of time relying on your own strength to keep you up? I don't think too many of us could hang for very long and would expend much energy in the process, &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l4n_eejBbps/TamckaELrsI/AAAAAAAAAOE/yU1F_qo_qaI/s1600/two-toed-sloth_744_600x450.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596176161270640322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l4n_eejBbps/TamckaELrsI/AAAAAAAAAOE/yU1F_qo_qaI/s320/two-toed-sloth_744_600x450.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;much more energy than holding down a couch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Desert Fathers described sloth as a noonday demon, compelling us to be unhappy with our present state. Thomas Aquinas reflects that sloth is a lack of love either expressed as laziness or workaholism. Are you kidding me...how can it be both? They are total opposite beings!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or are they?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not all people who are unhappy with where they are sit around and do nothing. Some of us also create an unsettling busyness that helps avoid the divine good in all of us. We are meant to be in relationship with God. Sloth can either avoid that relationship altogether by not moving or by moving constantly in other relationships with the rest of the world. Sloth prefers the easy way out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love is a daily effort much like a marriage relationship. Love is not held together by the highs, but rather the daily devotion of the two people. Sloth builds a cold wall between us and the demands of others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have to practice love, a daily practice, a sometimes boring task that doesn't always feel good. But the daily house that is built provides for strength, stability, and a real connection with God and others that can't be built any other way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in reality, the slothful expend as much energy as a sloth. Who would've thought?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-2462975228974160804?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2462975228974160804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=2462975228974160804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2462975228974160804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2462975228974160804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/04/are-we-all-slothful.html' title='Are we all slothful?'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tnWxILZBrZ0/TamcaPAXjjI/AAAAAAAAAN8/hAcDujFHmN8/s72-c/cereal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-238746992374908592</id><published>2011-04-05T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T21:26:42.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Things Aren't What They Seem</title><content type='html'>Take a look at this video link because we will be discussing it on Sunday. And when you can't get the song out of your head, you can thank me later. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atBg9zLI2bA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atBg9zLI2bA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-238746992374908592?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/238746992374908592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=238746992374908592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/238746992374908592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/238746992374908592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/04/when-things-arent-what-they-seem.html' title='When Things Aren&apos;t What They Seem'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-6709952959268638339</id><published>2011-04-05T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T21:53:49.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Image is Everything</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2cDw8gz9-Cw/TZvnxQTIqrI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-t-lhV-hxyE/s1600/andreagassi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 223px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592318195685436082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2cDw8gz9-Cw/TZvnxQTIqrI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-t-lhV-hxyE/s320/andreagassi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everybody remember Andre Agassi's commercials...Image is Everything? Since confession is good for the soul, I remember them very well but we will wait to address that particular deadly sin in a few weeks. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What happens to us when our image is what drives our life, our thoughts, our ambition, and the list goes on and on?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We discussed vainglory this last week. Vain, being that which is empty and unstable. The difference between pride and vainglory is important to delineate. Pride seeks to be the best, the greatest, and even seeks that which belongs to God. Vainglory doesn't care about being the best but rather, whatever will bring the most applause and recognition. In a nutshell, a person that struggles with vainglory receives great pleasure when someone speaks highly of them...it is an excessive and disordered desire of approval from others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The disordered love is centered around seeking others approval rather than approval from God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The author describes that vainglory is the hardest deadly sin to fight against because it is difficult to block out the voices of others. Finding a stillness and quiet place to hear a different voice is what is important to understand that image isn't everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What's wrong with vainglory is not the human need for recognition and approval itself, but for the excessive and empty ways we seek to satisfy this desire. The glory itself isn't the main problem, therefore, it is the vanity of how we seek it and what we seek to find in it." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-6709952959268638339?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6709952959268638339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=6709952959268638339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/6709952959268638339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/6709952959268638339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/04/image-is-everything.html' title='Image is Everything'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2cDw8gz9-Cw/TZvnxQTIqrI/AAAAAAAAAN0/-t-lhV-hxyE/s72-c/andreagassi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-5058379578274545281</id><published>2011-03-23T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T22:36:43.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vanity / Vainglory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XFgIpxcrr0Y/TYrVsgPhYJI/AAAAAAAAANs/tr64gWFs9l8/s1600/tumblr_lemg5gIhmi1qav5oho1_500.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 288px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587513248252518546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XFgIpxcrr0Y/TYrVsgPhYJI/AAAAAAAAANs/tr64gWFs9l8/s320/tumblr_lemg5gIhmi1qav5oho1_500.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"We are so vain that we even care for the opinions of those we don't care for." Marie Von Ebner-Eschenbach, Austrian novelist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rkJ5WOOMCgk/TYrUxrie7oI/AAAAAAAAANU/QCFMCsr2Jdk/s1600/preg5.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587512237672558210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rkJ5WOOMCgk/TYrUxrie7oI/AAAAAAAAANU/QCFMCsr2Jdk/s320/preg5.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Pride relates more to the opinion of ourselves; vanity, to what we would have others think of us." Jane Austen, British novelist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rW00IjVxytg/TYrVAlXBwwI/AAAAAAAAANc/x3epYMT9DB0/s1600/tobn105l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 289px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587512493711934210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rW00IjVxytg/TYrVAlXBwwI/AAAAAAAAANc/x3epYMT9DB0/s320/tobn105l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others." Unknown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6ddkmmm1Vs/TYrUsuKLQsI/AAAAAAAAANM/MZtqluPt2mU/s1600/diet162.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 237px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587512152476566210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6ddkmmm1Vs/TYrUsuKLQsI/AAAAAAAAANM/MZtqluPt2mU/s320/diet162.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t6ddkmmm1Vs/TYrUsuKLQsI/AAAAAAAAANM/MZtqluPt2mU/s1600/diet162.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Pride does not wish to owe and vanity does not wish to pay." Francois de la Rouchfoucauld, French classical author&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"There are no grades of vanity, there are only grades of ability in concealing it." Mark Twain, American humorist&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-5058379578274545281?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5058379578274545281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=5058379578274545281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5058379578274545281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5058379578274545281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/03/vainglory-vanity.html' title='Vanity / Vainglory'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XFgIpxcrr0Y/TYrVsgPhYJI/AAAAAAAAANs/tr64gWFs9l8/s72-c/tumblr_lemg5gIhmi1qav5oho1_500.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1416223359468937428</id><published>2011-03-20T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T19:14:18.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Envy...a Have Not</title><content type='html'>ENVY...the first of our deadly sin study. Again, we are studying &lt;em&gt;Gliterring Vices&lt;/em&gt; by Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung (KD). Here is a recap of our discussion today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting down to business, a definition for envy would be - unhappiness and resentment with where we are in God's order of creation, evident in resenting His gifts to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greed and jealousy are sometimes confused with envy. Greed is focused on the excessive desire and pursuit of possessions. Jealousy is an emotion that is driven by fear that a possession might be lost. Envy is not focused on acquiring possessions or a fear of losing possessions. It is focused on things that we have or don't have and giving them the power to determine who we are and where we fit in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a breakdown of these three. Three friends meet for lunch. During their discussion, one friend says, "I ate at Outback Steakhouse last night." Another friends says, "I purchased the new iPad last night." The other friend says, "I ate dinner at the Angus Barn with Joe last night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Greed is when one of the friends leaves lunch and goes directly to purchase the new iPad. Jealousy is when one of the friends begins questioning their relationship with Joe. Envy is when the friend who ate at Outback believes it made them less of a person because they didn't eat at Angus Barn. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Those who are envious see themselves as in competition with the rest of the world. Outback is not in competition with iPad, but what is closer to the heart, the Angus Barn. The envious measure their self worth comparatively and when someone is better, they become less. "Envy involves a sense of inferiority, which breeds a lack of self-love." ~KD&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"The envious are the 'have-nots' - they do not have the good their rival does, and they do not have self-love. Thus, they have nothing to lose and everything to gain from another's loss." ~KD&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In relation to love, "the commandment to love your neighbor as yourself...the envier can do neither. When we envy, our love for ourselves is conditional on excelling our rival." ~KD&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pride was removed from the official list of the seven deadly sins since it was believed that pride was the root of all the deadly sins. Envy's relationship to pride is making our own status higher by working to reduce our competitor's status, such that, we decide who is and who isn't worthy of rewards. Bottom line...we play God so envy's real enemy is God. That scares me to death...maybe that is why envy is a deadly sin; it kills the spirit and probably why Joesph Epstein says, "out of all the seven deadly sins, envy is no fun at all."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How do we redirect envy? We have to move out of the comparison game of self-worth. The author compares the way we move from envy to love by looking at moving from dating to marriage. Dating is all about competition; winning the other person and their affection and striving to secure the relationship. Marriage on the other hand works from the inside and if done right, the relationship grows into greater and greater love. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;May God help us!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1416223359468937428?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1416223359468937428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1416223359468937428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1416223359468937428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1416223359468937428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/03/envya-have-not.html' title='Envy...a Have Not'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-7961496446326614709</id><published>2011-03-19T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T04:33:44.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Bitter When Others Have it Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 225px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585752455121119266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-74nAfBiY-X0/TYSUQ2rCqCI/AAAAAAAAANE/tI_s3woW1u4/s320/untitled.bmp" /&gt;Joseph Epstein says, "Of all the deadly sins, envy is no fun at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm. Well, if it is no fun, why do we do it? Oh, I am sorry, I guess I should ask, "Why do I do it?" I don't want to unfairly categorize and assume everyone "does" envy. And as Christians, how do we or should we admit that envy is something we do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, if you want to hear why other people do it, come tomorrow morning. And if we are brave enough to evaluate our own life, maybe we will hear why we might possibly, quite likely, have the potential, and high probability to do envy, too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-7961496446326614709?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7961496446326614709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=7961496446326614709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7961496446326614709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7961496446326614709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/03/feeling-bitter-when-others-have-it.html' title='Feeling Bitter When Others Have it Better'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-74nAfBiY-X0/TYSUQ2rCqCI/AAAAAAAAANE/tI_s3woW1u4/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-3543187280320380784</id><published>2011-03-13T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T13:16:13.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Understanding the Tradition</title><content type='html'>I am beginning a series of Sunday School lessons with the Noah's Ark class at Hayes Barton &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-juzzhc122fA/TX1fGypT5bI/AAAAAAAAAM0/D9M7xH38EzY/s1600/vices.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 222px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 189px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583723683288180146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-juzzhc122fA/TX1fGypT5bI/AAAAAAAAAM0/D9M7xH38EzY/s320/vices.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Baptist Church. The "Seven Deadly Sins" (7DS) is the topic and the book we will be studying is &lt;em&gt;Glittering Vices&lt;/em&gt; by Rebecca Konyndyk DeYoung (KD).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To begin the study, we need to understand where the 7DS came from and what role, if any, they play in our lives today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The 7DS were started by the Desert Fathers as a Christian system of self-examination in the fourth century. These Desert Fathers deliberately withdrew into the desert to face temptation and sin head-on to cultivate a contemplative spirit through prayer like Christ did in his wilderness temptations. They sought spiritual progress in desert solitude." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evagrius (346-399) was the first to compile a list of eight demons that attacked the desert hermit...gluttony, impurity, avarice, sadness, anger, acedia, vainglory, and pride. He was interested in describing these demons and to develop a plan of attack to fight them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Evagrius' disciple, Cassian (360-430), ordered these eight demons from carnal to spiritual and gave instructions to monks on how to live with each one. Pope Gregory I ("the Great," 530-604) pared the list down to seven making them the biblical number symbolizing completeness. He put sloth under sadness, inserted envy and separated out pride as their root cause." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Along came Thomas Aquinas (1224-1274)who synthesized the wisdom of a variety of &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YOhcyTv8FyQ/TX1bVA-putI/AAAAAAAAAMk/lZsesCRzUXA/s1600/Thomas_Aquinas_in_Stained_Glass_crop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 185px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583719529607445202" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YOhcyTv8FyQ/TX1bVA-putI/AAAAAAAAAMk/lZsesCRzUXA/s320/Thomas_Aquinas_in_Stained_Glass_crop.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;predecessors in both philosophy and theology. He also spent a lot of time discussing virtues (Three theological virtues - faith, hope, and love along with four Cardinal virtues - practical wisdom, justice, courage, temperance) and not just focusing on the negative vices. He replaces sadness with sloth and continues the thinking that pride is the root of which leads to additional sin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"At the beginning of the fourteenth century, questions arose concerning the list of seven since it was not based on scripture. The Ten Commandments and the fruits of spirit were scripture based so the emphasis on virtue and vice moved toward law, obligation, and obedience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the first millenia of the 7DS use, they were not seen as the seven bad habits. They weren't the worst sins either. Cruelty and murder should have made the list as the worst and drunkenness and lying as the most frequent. However, each sin means something quite different than the other with pride as the root. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last few decades with the revived interest in the spiritual disciplines, protestants have begun to renew their appreciation of spiritual formation in the context of grace...not my power, but the grace of God." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The contemporary treatment of the 7DS comes in many forms. Dismissal is viewing sloth as someone who can't get out of bed, lust is looking at too many Playboys, and gluttony is too many jelly doughnuts. Psychologizing the 7DS away is explaining that gluttony is another name for eating disorders, wrath is treatable in anger management classes, and pride should be replaced with talk about self-esteem. Finding humor in sloth is seeing the world's problems are from people who are too busy and if the original sin was sloth, we would all still be in paradise." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These contemporary approaches do not recognize or respect the centuries of Christian teaching on the subject. This oversimplifies, stereotypes, rationalizes them away. We follow silly or shallow parodies rather than centuries of moral reflections by philosophers and theologians and we mistake both our past and ourselves. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"If we go back and learn gluttony and the kind of power it has, would we find it so natural and &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PgV1G23Yba4/TX1gk_IlsXI/AAAAAAAAAM8/sJsjkP-zWqE/s1600/gluttony.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 203px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583725301548298610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PgV1G23Yba4/TX1gk_IlsXI/AAAAAAAAAM8/sJsjkP-zWqE/s320/gluttony.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;unproblematic that more Christians are dieting than fasting today?" ~KD If sloth and sadness seemed to be interchangeable so many years ago, would we look at someone who can't get out of bed the same way if we believed they were sad rather than slothful? Are we missing something? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We must use the 7DS to study our actions and behaviors to discover layers we were previously unaware. If we are better able to identify with our triggers and actions, we will certainly be better at embracing and engaging our world and those around us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Contemporary American culture is torn between workaholism on one hand and an obsession with maximizing leisure on the other. What lies behind this? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Should Christian's &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XwAArQ3yBVI/TX1euHgwUyI/AAAAAAAAAMs/FhTTqPi8gJ4/s1600/clac_banner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 259px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 183px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583723259392709410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XwAArQ3yBVI/TX1euHgwUyI/AAAAAAAAAMs/FhTTqPi8gJ4/s320/clac_banner.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;endorse the limitless pursuit of work as selfless diligence and godly industriousness? Or might we find in these lifestyles evidence of cravings for control, self-sufficiency, and a refusal to depend on God? Perhaps our drivenness, even more than our pursuit of leisure, is closer to vice than virtue." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aquinas used a term, pusillanimity, which means smallness of soul. The pusillanimous shrink away from God and won't stretch themselves to the great things God has called them to be. They rely on their own puny powers and focus on failure rather than God's grace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"When the snow is freshly fallen and the first sled down the hill makes a path, the following &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-01itUv2twQ4/TX1a2Hk2uuI/AAAAAAAAAMc/wj6ZZVn7puQ/s1600/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 263px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 176px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583718998802348770" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-01itUv2twQ4/TX1a2Hk2uuI/AAAAAAAAAMc/wj6ZZVn7puQ/s320/5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;sledders follow in the same path. The more trips down the hill, the tighter the snow gets packed which makes it harder to steer out of. Character traits are similar. Virtues and vices gradually get internalized. We develop habits by imitating those around us or cumulative effect of many small choices." ~KD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;DeYoung concludes in her introduction, that we will examine each of the vices to ultimately learn about ourselves. Looking at our character in the mirror will help us to make progress in spiritual formation and to turn from vice to greater virtue. The project of becoming Christ-like is our most important task. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So our list of the 7DS is:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Envy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Vainglory&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Sloth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Avarice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Anger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Gluttony&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Lust&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next week's lesson, we will focus on envy. Have a good week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-3543187280320380784?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3543187280320380784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=3543187280320380784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/3543187280320380784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/3543187280320380784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2011/03/understanding-tradition.html' title='Understanding the Tradition'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-juzzhc122fA/TX1fGypT5bI/AAAAAAAAAM0/D9M7xH38EzY/s72-c/vices.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-8387397640920034622</id><published>2010-07-23T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T19:36:04.821-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow Down - hint, hint!</title><content type='html'>I go out of my way to get gas these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I filled up at Sam's Club about a month ago. It was lunchtime and I was reading and answering all the questions the pump computer was asking when a man popped up from around the pump to say hi. He carried on a conversation for a while, some with himself and some with me, while I was focusing on watching the price/gallons continue their glorious climb to a full tank. He didn't get the hint that I didn't want nor have time for a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I find myself drawn to him. He is a sweet man, always wearing a white shirt and dark pants with his gold pocket watch chain dangling from his belt loop. He always sports a straw fedora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came out to see me yesterday morning during my fill. I like to go early in the morning while not a lot of people are out and about and we have time to visit. I asked him about his week and he pulled his small, folded paper calendar from his left breast shirt pocket. He thumbed through and told me his schedule and then talked about what he needed to do at home with some plumbing projects, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He always leaves me with, "Thanks for coming, we appreciate your business." I hope to learn more about him in the coming days. There is a certain curiousness that exudes from him that a deep, vast story lies within him...and within all of us if we are willing to share it. I am glad I finally got the hint that I needed to make time for a conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 29, 2010&lt;br /&gt;I stopped for gas this morning and had a discussion with my friend while waiting for the 87 grade unleaded to fill my tank. It seems my friend lost his only child, a daughter, in 1990 due to a tragic accident (supposed accident). He describes he has spent the last years spending his retirement savings on legal fees to no avail while also caring for his disabled wife. Considering his positive attitude and smile, I would not have known he was experiencing such sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ended our conversation by telling me to be safe, thanks for coming and he appreciates my business. He closed my door for me and then patted the window. Sam's Club has no finer employee in my opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-8387397640920034622?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8387397640920034622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=8387397640920034622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/8387397640920034622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/8387397640920034622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2010/07/marshall.html' title='Slow Down - hint, hint!'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1096776485658204343</id><published>2010-05-04T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T18:02:07.405-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I smarter than a 4-year old?</title><content type='html'>I am watching American Idol. And yes, I am very excited Harry &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Connick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Jr. is this week's guest. You know that sound that Homer Simpson makes when he eats a doughnut or drinks a beer? Well, that is the sound I make when I think about or hear &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;HCJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I am making that noise and enjoying the show, I find myself getting really irritated at the contestants that insult my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;intelligence&lt;/span&gt;. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a performance, the host states what phone number to call if you want to vote for that contestant. When that contestant decides they need to demonstrate what number it is with their fingers, I want to scream. Do I really need a visual demonstration?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never voted for contestants on any reality shows...but I might have to start voting for the people that don't provide me visual cues!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1096776485658204343?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1096776485658204343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1096776485658204343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1096776485658204343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1096776485658204343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2010/05/am-i-smarter-than-4-year-old.html' title='Am I smarter than a 4-year old?'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-2957894118205328299</id><published>2010-04-10T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T17:58:39.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Do I Love Thee...</title><content type='html'>Today, I saw a guy in WalMart wearing a t-shirt that said, "I Love Beer."   I found this very interesting since it is such a broad statement of love.  Think about it...how many types of beer are there?  I won't even begin to name them but we all know it's alot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought more about it as I drove home.  I began to wonder where he got the shirt and if he bought it or he got it as a gift?  I finally decided I would put my money on him receiving it as a gift. Otherwise, the money he spent on the shirt would have been spent on what he loves!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-2957894118205328299?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2957894118205328299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=2957894118205328299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2957894118205328299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2957894118205328299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2010/04/how-do-i-love-thee.html' title='How Do I Love Thee...'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-194812029142561251</id><published>2009-08-26T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T15:29:10.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Really...FarmVille</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SpW2_6nE7eI/AAAAAAAAALs/EmfRobwp6To/s1600-h/n102452128776_1831.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SpW2_6nE7eI/AAAAAAAAALs/EmfRobwp6To/s320/n102452128776_1831.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374402939517726178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know a lot, but I do know I don't have time to plant super berries and wait for them to harvest and then pick them and sell them or whatever else you do on FarmVille.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also don't know computers, but if I did, I would create HomelessVille or StarvationVille or SuicideVille or AddictionVille.  Seems like we could spend our mindless hours on Facebook or the Internet actually feeling like we accomplished something worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be nice to hear, "I fed three homeless people and found two of them homes today."  How about, "I saved six people from committing suicide or supported four addicts today."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted, I am the first to enjoy mindless things to relieve stress and relax.  I like to lay on the couch and see how far I can extend a tape measure before it falls.  I have gotten up to 11' but I think I can do better.  Or if my son is home, he lays on the other couch and we have sword fights with our tape measures.  Extend out to three feet and "on guard".  Planting super berries can't compare with that, can it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-194812029142561251?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/194812029142561251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=194812029142561251' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/194812029142561251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/194812029142561251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2009/08/reallyfarmville.html' title='Really...FarmVille'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SpW2_6nE7eI/AAAAAAAAALs/EmfRobwp6To/s72-c/n102452128776_1831.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-7378820402933261908</id><published>2009-05-15T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T17:18:37.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lanes of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sports.espn.go.com/photo/2006/0619/nhl_a_ward_275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 200px;" src="http://sports.espn.go.com/photo/2006/0619/nhl_a_ward_275.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I heard Cam Ward, goalie for the Carolina Hurricanes, interviewed recently.  The gist of his conversation with the reporter centered around how does the opposing team score four goals one day and then two days later, they don't score any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cam was very matter a fact in his answer...He could see the puck extremely well because his teammates did a good job shielding the opponents and keeping the shooting lanes open for him to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I offer two hockey goalie quotes to ponder along with Cam's explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Because the demands on a goalie are mostly mental, it means that for a goalie, the biggest enemy is himself. Not a puck, not an opponent, not a quirk of size or style. Him. The stress and anxiety he feels when he plays, the fear of failing, the fear of being embarrassed, the fear of being physically hurt, all the symptoms of his position, in constant ebb and flow, but never disappearing. The successful goalie understands these neuroses, accepts them, and puts them under control. The unsuccessful goalie is distracted by them, his mind in knots, his body quickly following. - Ken Dryden&lt;/p&gt;Nobody understands the position who hasn't played it.  Hockey is a team game, but for a goalie, it's more like an individual sport. - John Garrett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't life a lot like being a goalie in hockey?  The mental exhaustion is our biggest enemy.  All the stress and anxiety, the fear of failing or being embarrassed.  Why do we live our lives playing it as if it were an individual sport instead of a team game?  Having teammates and friends who can help diminish the distractions that life delivers and help keep the lanes of our future open, seems like a good strategy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that is why Cam is so successful.  He isn't isolating himself and is truly living while embracing the support offered by those around him that care for him the most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-7378820402933261908?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7378820402933261908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=7378820402933261908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7378820402933261908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7378820402933261908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2009/05/lanes-of-life.html' title='The Lanes of Life'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1487583691824049945</id><published>2009-03-07T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T02:18:55.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High School vs. Old School</title><content type='html'>So, my son comes home today and says he wishes there was a button he could push and someone would tell him what he was supposed to be when he grows up.  He is definitely stressed out about the testing that he is undergoing, that all 8th graders in his school are undergoing, to begin narrowing down his choices for a career that will funnel him into the proper electives for high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended his open house at his high school tonight and I understand where his anxiety and frustration comes from.  The principal, in his opening remarks, stated he asked the school choir to sing that specific song, "I will not stumble and I will not fall" because it was so pertinent to his philosophy.   He said he would not allow his students, our children, to stumble or fall.  I sat there in disbelief.  Stumbling and/or falling is not a situation to avoid, but an inevitable part of life.  Especially when we are young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize we don't live in the 1950's anymore, but in some ways, are we any better off?  The school system is requiring kids...let me repeat, kids...to complete specific tests that will demonstrate their future career choice.  Are you kidding me?  I am 39 and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our world is in hyper-warp speed and it is not slowing down.  I believe the greatest lessons we learn are when we stumble or fall and usually will include some type of pain...to me, that will never change.  Our world has...It tells us to avoid pain at all costs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vote for Old School!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1487583691824049945?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1487583691824049945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1487583691824049945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1487583691824049945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1487583691824049945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2009/03/high-school-vs-old-school.html' title='High School vs. Old School'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-5922556022904760010</id><published>2008-11-12T18:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:57:02.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Can We?</title><content type='html'>How can we argue over politics?  How can we get caught up in the chaos of the schedules we follow?  How come gas prices have dropped over $2/gallon during an economic recession?  How is it possible to get up everyday and make our own choices and follow our own dreams?  How can we assume that Barack Obama is not going to be good for this country and John McCain is?  How can we spend so much time following Sarah Palin?  How can we expect to bring peace when we are not peaceful?  How come we argue over abortion and gay marriages?  How can we figure out where we are headed if we don't look behind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here and contemplate what is happening in our world, it isn't about being republican or democrat.  It isn't about being a Tar Heel, Blue Devil, or Deacon.  It isn't about being straight or gay.  It isn't about being male of female.  It isn't about being in charge or taking orders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, as I sit in my chair in the safety of my own home, there is a child being molested, right now, every moment of everyday.  Right now, there are children that are being abused by their parents.  Right now, a child is losing their childhood to an alcoholic parent.  Right now, there are children in captivity and forced into sex trafficking.  Right now, a child is killed in war.  Right now, the children of this world are being shaped and molded by what they see, hear, experience, feel, sense, and come to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to the days of going to kindergarten and not even knowing your ABC's?  What happened to the days of going to college and not knowing what degree track was right for you?  What happened to the days of letting kids be kids and soccer and baseball were Saturday afternoon leisure activities with the neighborhood kids? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have we really consumed ourselves with having to be the best before the other parent's children?  We are raising children who are not able to communicate with one another but will have 25 college credits before they move a box into their dorm.  We are seeing children who are experiencing abuse and struggling as adults.  We are becoming our own jailer by imprisoning ourselves and our lives by missing the present.  We are obsessed with the future and I wish we could accept faults, limitations, strengths, differences, and weaknesses, first in ourselves and then in others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-5922556022904760010?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5922556022904760010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=5922556022904760010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5922556022904760010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5922556022904760010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/11/how-can-we.html' title='How Can We?'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-4004262962409333221</id><published>2008-09-10T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T21:32:02.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unmistaken Noise</title><content type='html'>You know, there are a lot of noises in this world that can be identified pretty easily. To&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SMieWSLqJFI/AAAAAAAAAHw/1VsXdQliV4w/s1600-h/IG5NBCAIM923KCACWUEURCA50XG21CA9I4F23CANJ85N0CAD9V7S0CAHJHNB2CA8XX1FPCA59240PCAM9PXIDCA2XOXRTCAKSW3UHCAF395USCAXOBC03CADAGIVMCAC1AQSMCAHOITG1CAWD66PDCA51EI00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244615871747990610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SMieWSLqJFI/AAAAAAAAAHw/1VsXdQliV4w/s200/IG5NBCAIM923KCACWUEURCA50XG21CA9I4F23CANJ85N0CAD9V7S0CAHJHNB2CA8XX1FPCA59240PCAM9PXIDCA2XOXRTCAKSW3UHCAF395USCAXOBC03CADAGIVMCAC1AQSMCAHOITG1CAWD66PDCA51EI00.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;night, I believe the easiest would be...a cat fight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was studying Church History and the screech/curdling/siren occurs just outside the window where I am sitting. I ran to the back door to see if Satan is alright. Yes, I know that we need to give our cat a new name. After this fight, she definitely deserves a new name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the sound of an angry or threatened cat cannot be mistaken for anything else. A few rocks and several shots with the Red Ryder ended the fight. She came and stood next to me on the porch while eyeing her bullying friends as if to say, "Bring it on now, boys!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-4004262962409333221?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/4004262962409333221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=4004262962409333221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/4004262962409333221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/4004262962409333221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/09/unmistaken-noise.html' title='Unmistaken Noise'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SMieWSLqJFI/AAAAAAAAAHw/1VsXdQliV4w/s72-c/IG5NBCAIM923KCACWUEURCA50XG21CA9I4F23CANJ85N0CAD9V7S0CAHJHNB2CA8XX1FPCA59240PCAM9PXIDCA2XOXRTCAKSW3UHCAF395USCAXOBC03CADAGIVMCAC1AQSMCAHOITG1CAWD66PDCA51EI00.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1810980765247755985</id><published>2008-09-06T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T17:17:54.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Only the necessities, please!</title><content type='html'>At 6am today, my daughter wakes me, "Power's out, Get Up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fumble around in the dark, change my clothes, go outside in the wind and rain, get the generator, fill it with gas, and yank the cord. I plug in the refrigerator, tv/dvd, one lamp, and a floor fan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as she has a light, a fan to stay cool, and the light in the frig turns on upon opening, life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she watched The Little Rascals, I wondered why my life can be or seems to be so complicated. I feel as though my contentment is a battle not yet won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate the weather producing a readjustment of my priorities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1810980765247755985?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1810980765247755985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1810980765247755985' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1810980765247755985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1810980765247755985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/09/only-necessities-please.html' title='Only the necessities, please!'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1997236192285169574</id><published>2008-07-14T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:40:52.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retirement is Tiring</title><content type='html'>I haven't kept up with every little detail of the &lt;a href="http://www.officialbrettfavre.com/bio/"&gt;Brett Favre&lt;/a&gt; retirement saga, but I have seen my fair share of opinions on tv. Everybody is weighing in on his decision, the Packers decision, and the &lt;a href="http://bleacherreport.com/articles/37354-note-to-brett-favre-meet-aaron-rodgers-and-a-disgruntled-fan"&gt;"here we go again"&lt;/a&gt; echo in the canyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have an opinion. I am not in the Packers organization, I am not &lt;a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/columns/story?columnist=yasinskas_pat&amp;amp;id=3278137"&gt;Aaron Rodgers &lt;/a&gt;waiting to get my shot as quarterback, and I am not Brett's wife or in his immediate family.&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SHvwhQlWlLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/W-QSqoW6Meg/s1600-h/gray+brett.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223032647044207794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SHvwhQlWlLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/W-QSqoW6Meg/s200/gray+brett.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say that when I look at Brett, he reminds me of my deceased labrador retriever, Jubal. In her 13th year of life, her beard and forehead were gray and showing the weary and tired life that was left. Her heart was still in hunting and fishing and she didn't give it up until her last breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is facing retirement at the age of 75. He has notified his church of 26 years that he will be retiring October 1st. Now that the church is interviewing candidates to replace him, he struggles with what to do next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure if calling an audible at the line of scrimmage and calling a congregation to love their neighbor is the same thing. I just see Jubal in my dad too and I pray he will find peace to enjoy his life when his career is over. I also pray for Brett to find peace in a difficult time that is compounded with a judgmental world that faces him and his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Image from 570 news&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1997236192285169574?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1997236192285169574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1997236192285169574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1997236192285169574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1997236192285169574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/07/retirement-is-tiring.html' title='Retirement is Tiring'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SHvwhQlWlLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/W-QSqoW6Meg/s72-c/gray+brett.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-3581715142341765286</id><published>2008-07-02T08:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T08:46:46.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good ol' day</title><content type='html'>I got new flip flops today and will probably buy a new t-shirt by the end of the day.  Probably go swimming, shoot some fireworks, and maybe play some cards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to do the same things on my birthday as I did as a kid.  With my birthday so close to July 4th, I usually would buy a new pair of flip flops, t-shirt and of course, fireworks with my birthday money when I was a kid.  Oh, those were the good ol' days...and today will be no exception. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have added a pedicure, reading, and listening to music to my day which is very nice.  After all, you are only 39 once...or at least I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-3581715142341765286?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3581715142341765286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=3581715142341765286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/3581715142341765286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/3581715142341765286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-ol-day.html' title='Good ol&apos; day'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-2815595133413721754</id><published>2008-06-21T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:24:54.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delta Jewels is a jewel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SF2t6FXX79I/AAAAAAAAAHg/SR3EbCl2xoY/s1600-h/P6190045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214515156949135314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SF2t6FXX79I/AAAAAAAAAHg/SR3EbCl2xoY/s200/P6190045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Delta Jewels is a jewelry project that was started to boost the economy in Helena, Arkansas by providing young girls with a paying job.  The girls began making earrings to be sold at the CBF General Assembly and I was tasked with creating a display stand for their earrings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls made about 250 pairs of earrings and they sold out by the second day. The earrings sold for $10 and the girls made $4.50 for each pair they sold. I was so proud of them and their hard work paid off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully this business venture will continue growing and the girls will find hope for their future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-2815595133413721754?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2815595133413721754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=2815595133413721754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2815595133413721754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2815595133413721754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/delta-jewels-is-jewel.html' title='Delta Jewels is a jewel'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SF2t6FXX79I/AAAAAAAAAHg/SR3EbCl2xoY/s72-c/P6190045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-8784348378932525156</id><published>2008-06-21T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:16:12.241-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Ministry</title><content type='html'>I went to a breakout session at the CBF General Assembly that involved discussion of helping addicts make a change that will last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lia Scholl has begun a ministry called &lt;a href="http://starlight-ministries.org/wp_blog_1/"&gt;Starlight Ministries&lt;/a&gt;. This ministry supports strippers and exotic dancers. With the increase in human trafficking, this ministry is on the cutting edge and is reaching those that people overlook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The program involves assisting with change with no strings attached. Most programs that involve helping addicts have rules and restrictions. If you stay clean, you are welcome. If you fall off the wagon or even hit a bump, you must go. This type of assistance leaves the power with the helper. Percentages demonstrate that almost 90% of women in this type of business were sexually abused as children which has continued to leave them feeling powerless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starlight Ministries and other organizations are incorporating a new change model. By giving the power to the addict, saying we are here for you no matter what you do, gives them the power to make decisions. It was explained that this assistance does not enable the addict in their behaviors, but rather, demonstrates unconditional love and support through the change process.&lt;br /&gt;I realize everyone is different and different addiction agencies have different success stories. I must say that I am impressed with this new model and this ministry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-8784348378932525156?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/8784348378932525156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=8784348378932525156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/8784348378932525156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/8784348378932525156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/amazing-ministry.html' title='Amazing Ministry'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1510017813882655999</id><published>2008-06-21T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:28:11.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful for Safe Driving</title><content type='html'>Well, I made it to the CBF meeting in one piece...with Nathaniel and Lucas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben and Leonora asked me to drive the Stories on Wheels bus to Memphis for the meeting. &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SF0vsUFQTMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/dMxadPlTb-8/s1600-h/P6120238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214376381916400834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SF0vsUFQTMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/dMxadPlTb-8/s200/P6120238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Casey, a summer intern from last year was going to ride with me because the emergency windows become dislodged if you hit a bump in the road and a loud, very obnoxious alarm rings until you can secure the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as luck would have it, Casey's friend got sick so she had to drive her to Memphis in her car. That left my only alternative as Nathaniel and Lucas Newell to ride with me in the bus. They got their co-pilot's license training, which involved learning how to fix the window before I jump out the other window because the alarm is right in my ear at the driver's seat. So we were off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed as we drove on the interstate at 55mph, hitting a small bump would give the alarm a hiccup, which was a warning that the full alarm would be coming soon. Nathaniel and Lucas decided they could talk, aka yell, at the window when the hiccup occurred and make the alarm be quiet instead of just fixing the window. Needless to say, the alarm went off about 20 times before we made it to Memphis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived at the convention center, I checked in at the loading dock for instructions on where the bus would be parked. I was informed I should drive up the spiral ramp up to the second floor. The security guard said that the maximum length for a vehicle on the staircase was 45' and anything longer needed to get on the truck elevator. Did you know that a spiral ramp for large trucks or a truck elevator even existed? I didn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started up the ramp and then began making my turn. I had about an 8" clearance on each corner of the front bumper and rear bumper. Nathaniel and Lucas had their noses pressed up against the front windshield because this was the "coolest thing" they had ever done. As you can imagine, with the bus being torqued in such a manner, going up and around, the windows popped open. The alarm was blaring in my ear but it was too dark for the boys to make their way to the back of the bus and of course they didn't want to leave their post at the windshield. By the time we arrived at the top of the ramp, I was glad that it was probably the first and only time I will ever have to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray for Ben and Leonora because they will have to find someone else to drive the bus down the ramp because what goes up, must come down...and I am headed home to North Carolina!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1510017813882655999?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1510017813882655999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1510017813882655999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1510017813882655999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1510017813882655999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/thankful-for-safe-driving.html' title='Thankful for Safe Driving'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SF0vsUFQTMI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/dMxadPlTb-8/s72-c/P6120238.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-7803002679115638600</id><published>2008-06-17T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T20:50:01.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My time is almost up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a concert at Ben and Leonora's house last night. Brother &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhPC1Lv3mI/AAAAAAAAAHI/F1UW4JGSM8o/s1600-h/P6160026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213003478736035426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhPC1Lv3mI/AAAAAAAAAHI/F1UW4JGSM8o/s200/P6160026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Andrew and his family played and sang for us. It was awesome. There are 20 college kids here working on projects and the other Urban team missionaries for CBF are here as well. The Newell's house was full and the music was great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is my last day in Helena. I am leaving in the morning to drive the Stories on Wheels bus to Memphis for the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship General Assembly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhLzftj1-I/AAAAAAAAAHA/azim74d2XMM/s1600-h/P6170004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212999916739352546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhLzftj1-I/AAAAAAAAAHA/azim74d2XMM/s200/P6170004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We spent today out in the communities of Lakeview, Elaine, and Ratio (pronounced Rashaw) on the bus playing with the kids in these communities who have nowhere to play or anyone to play with. It is very exhausting to take the bus out but very worth the expended energy to meet and play with these kids. We usually have to cross some fields to go to the surrounding houses to find the kids to play. We found about 40 kids today and they had a blast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The work has overwhelmed me and I will probably pray for the kids in this area the rest of my life. Today, we pulled up in the bus in Elaine and this guy was sitting on the porch. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhLbCOhrzI/AAAAAAAAAG4/k4959vYP6tE/s1600-h/P6170037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212999496507698994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhLbCOhrzI/AAAAAAAAAG4/k4959vYP6tE/s200/P6170037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhLJfyxnCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/g8BYFVd6hqM/s1600-h/P6170036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212999195206720546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhLJfyxnCI/AAAAAAAAAGw/g8BYFVd6hqM/s200/P6170036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While the kids were playing, another guy carrying a Colt 40 was staggering down the street. All the kids were laughing at him and saying that Mr. Mike was drunk. It is so sad to see what they have to deal with and it is played off as entertainment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we returned to the Community Center, I asked the center director, Tracie, where Budy was. I met 2 teenage girls my first week here, Shank and Budy. We played cards and they told me about their basketball team at school. I have seen Shank around the last week but I have not seen Budy. They are usually inseparable. Anyway, Tracie told me that Budy was molested &amp;amp;/or raped by her brother last week and she has not seen her since. Tracie said she read the police report in the newspaper. This totally breaks my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry I don't have very happy news to report. I wish I had a bus big enough and a house big enough to bring all the kids home with me. I feel privileged to have had a childhood, family, and community that provided hope for my future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will still be posting blogs while I am at the General Assembly on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. We are heading home this Sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-7803002679115638600?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7803002679115638600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=7803002679115638600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7803002679115638600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7803002679115638600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-time-is-almost-up.html' title='My time is almost up'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFhPC1Lv3mI/AAAAAAAAAHI/F1UW4JGSM8o/s72-c/P6160026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-1305971185242637654</id><published>2008-06-12T16:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T21:16:49.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A wall</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, today I hit a wall. My body said, no more...rest. We have been going from 7am-midnight for most of the days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wall found me around 2pm. I sat on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Newell's&lt;/span&gt; couch and just stared off into space until I drifted off to sleep. I awoke several times to screaming kids and fights with light sabers around my head, but nothing could move me. I am up now, I feel better, but my eyelids are heavy and hard to open after I blink and before your smart comment James &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Vann&lt;/span&gt;, the only thing I have had to drink is a diet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. pepper and a strawberry/blueberry smoothie that Leonora made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, I will be back to full throttle tomorrow...we have a lot to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Newell's&lt;/span&gt; have a few new additions to their household. They have encouraged us to take two &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211151189241881442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG6ZZGd42I/AAAAAAAAAGA/VgaA_aVeOAg/s200/P6110183.JPG" border="0" /&gt;or three home to anyone who is the least bit interested. The kittens are about 4 weeks old and of course the cutest things you have ever seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have met a college intern named Catherine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bahn&lt;/span&gt; from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Jonesboro&lt;/span&gt;. This is her second summer here and for her undergraduate thesis, she wrote on Helena. She created a compressed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; version of her thesis called &lt;a href="http://anewfashioneddeltarevival.wordpress.com/"&gt;A New Fashioned Delta Revival&lt;/a&gt;. I would encourage readers to check out her site to understand the history and current problems in this area. Their are so many important issues, but one that is very interesting is the KIPP school (Knowledge is Power Program) which is a charter school. The students are required to attend school year round from 7:30am-5pm Monday-Friday and every other Saturday. It is an unbelievable program and its main focus is to graduate each student and then onto college. The test scores at the end of the first year ranked one of the highest in the state, which is a huge improvement for this area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG6t8DKSHI/AAAAAAAAAGI/ZcD_oPVpSYE/s1600-h/P6110198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211151542220638322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG6t8DKSHI/AAAAAAAAAGI/ZcD_oPVpSYE/s200/P6110198.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to another baseball game last night and Ben's team won. Nate and Lucas played really well. I took some cherries to the game to share with the boys. Most had not ever had cherries and as you can see, they really enjoyed them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG8fqW1hAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/h-zpC_1rDwE/s1600-h/P6120258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211153495976412162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG8fqW1hAI/AAAAAAAAAGo/h-zpC_1rDwE/s200/P6120258.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to Lake View today with the Stories on Wheels bus. We had about 20 kids show up and we played games, read stories, ate snacks, and had a great time with them. Lake View is south of Helena and in the middle of nowhere. The kids just flock to the bus upon arrival. The parents are very appreciative and enjoy watching their kids have fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG7HBzpbII/AAAAAAAAAGQ/O29PzDZ8xR0/s1600-h/P6120217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211151973262912642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG7HBzpbII/AAAAAAAAAGQ/O29PzDZ8xR0/s200/P6120217.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG72a1pm6I/AAAAAAAAAGY/UptI6o0qKCY/s1600-h/P6120240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211152787436051362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG72a1pm6I/AAAAAAAAAGY/UptI6o0qKCY/s200/P6120240.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211153157590155506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG8L9xRAPI/AAAAAAAAAGg/_PoWIDVXOvA/s200/P6120241.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG5qwNjq2I/AAAAAAAAAFw/k-zHNMj8kCg/s1600-h/P6110175.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nicholas is enjoying his time here. He has made several friends and will be sad to leave. I am taking him to my sister's house tomorrow night for him to play with his cousins until it is time to &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG5qwNjq2I/AAAAAAAAAFw/k-zHNMj8kCg/s1600-h/P6110175.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211150387991784290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG5qwNjq2I/AAAAAAAAAFw/k-zHNMj8kCg/s200/P6110175.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;come home. He has been a real trooper through this entire trip and has grown in his understanding of the problems that these kids face each day. Two of his favorite people are Robert and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Kevonte&lt;/span&gt;. Robert was in a car accident as a child and was thrown through the windshield. He is very sweet and has enjoyed playing with Nicholas. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Kevonte&lt;/span&gt; also loves Nicholas and holds his hand wherever they walk. It is amazing how soon you get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;attached&lt;/span&gt; to everyone and it will be hard to say goodbye.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG5-lskeuI/AAAAAAAAAF4/4lpXF0laUYU/s1600-h/P6110173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211150728766454498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG5-lskeuI/AAAAAAAAAF4/4lpXF0laUYU/s200/P6110173.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have cleaned out my car finally. You know how long you have been in the car by the amount of sunflower shells that fall out when you begin cleaning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-1305971185242637654?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/1305971185242637654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=1305971185242637654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1305971185242637654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/1305971185242637654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/wall.html' title='A wall'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SFG6ZZGd42I/AAAAAAAAAGA/VgaA_aVeOAg/s72-c/P6110183.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-5113928524868371685</id><published>2008-06-10T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T20:59:09.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Times</title><content type='html'>Kevonte is one of those kids who melt your heart.  He is a sweetheart!&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9NMMVrmwI/AAAAAAAAAFo/zqne5sOS3HM/s1600-h/me+n+kevonte.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210468165756885762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9NMMVrmwI/AAAAAAAAAFo/zqne5sOS3HM/s200/me+n+kevonte.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are in the middle of FCA basketball camp and trying to work on the gardens and prepare for the General Assembly next week. We designed a jewelry holder today and will buy the supplies tomorrow to build it. We are picking up a bookshelf template from the local artist tomorrow and will need to replicate 250 bookshelves before next Wednesday. We need to have 250 earrings made by next Wednesday as well. We begin the youth camp again next Monday and will take the Stories on Wheels bus out this week and next. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I come home tonight to my trailer and Mr. Bill has left some Diet Dr. Pepper in the frig and I pop one open...needless to say it didn't pop very much because after tasting it, I decided to look at the expiration date. 2005 might have been a good year for wine, but not so good for Diet Dr. Pepper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9MZtWEgJI/AAAAAAAAAFY/0FIKUA34mIE/s1600-h/P6100165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210467298443559058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9MZtWEgJI/AAAAAAAAAFY/0FIKUA34mIE/s200/P6100165.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9MwLyboKI/AAAAAAAAAFg/C4SW_FaO0NM/s1600-h/P6100168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210467684572700834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9MwLyboKI/AAAAAAAAAFg/C4SW_FaO0NM/s200/P6100168.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Off to bed so we can get up early...to the garden at 7am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9MwLyboKI/AAAAAAAAAFg/C4SW_FaO0NM/s1600-h/P6100168.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-5113928524868371685?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5113928524868371685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=5113928524868371685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5113928524868371685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5113928524868371685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/busy-times.html' title='Busy Times'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SE9NMMVrmwI/AAAAAAAAAFo/zqne5sOS3HM/s72-c/me+n+kevonte.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-7651272391423208189</id><published>2008-06-08T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T23:09:27.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Much needed prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't even know where to begin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The children of Helena, AR need your prayers. We have made many friends at the Community &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzCIfHe1CI/AAAAAAAAAE4/C3PPHqOmxiU/s1600-h/P6060123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209752320008442914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzCIfHe1CI/AAAAAAAAAE4/C3PPHqOmxiU/s200/P6060123.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Center where we have gone to serve in the afternoons. As we walk in the door to the Community Center, many children are wandering around waiting for a friendly face to arrive.  Within just a few seconds of entering, a friend appears by our side who will want to play checkers, basketball, cards, go for a swing outside, or walk up the street to get an ice cup. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most of these children have taken care of themselves at a very early age and their stories will break your heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben had baseball practice the other night and it was getting late, so Leonora called him to see where he was. Ben said he was driving around looking for a relative of one of his baseball players because when he went to drop him off at his house, nobody was there. Ben went on to say that he had already been to 4-5 houses and the relatives were either not at home, or they shut the door in his face. Ben finally found an aunt that would let him stay the night. I later found out, this is not the first time this has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other night Ben had a baseball game and some of his players did not show up.  Ben asked me to quickly go and get one of his players and he gave me directions to his house.  I drove over to the other side of town and found the house.  I knocked on the door and the child arrived all ready for the game and said good bye to at least 5 people in the house.  He didn't have anyone coming to watch him play baseball.  This same kid hit a home run that night, the first of his career.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In talking to the Community Center director, one child walks to the Center very early in the morning everyday, usually around 8am and stays all day long until around 5pm and then walks home. The child does not bring anything to eat for lunch or any snacks so they try and keep some crackers and juice on hand for these children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize that we are here to minister and serve these children but as you can imagine, we are also on the receiving end of these children's love.   Pray for their safety, their hope of what is to come as they grow older, and for them to find God's love when a friendly face is nowhere to be found.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzGBxvzKdI/AAAAAAAAAFI/B7OFfQQtSi8/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209756602796812754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzGBxvzKdI/AAAAAAAAAFI/B7OFfQQtSi8/s200/P6040108.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzGTZXcVuI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/b5yug29va4s/s1600-h/P6040109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209756905489848034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzGTZXcVuI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/b5yug29va4s/s200/P6040109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzFbaEmy1I/AAAAAAAAAFA/yqhGHl_A19M/s1600-h/P6040108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-7651272391423208189?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7651272391423208189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=7651272391423208189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7651272391423208189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7651272391423208189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/much-needed-prayer.html' title='Much needed prayer'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEzCIfHe1CI/AAAAAAAAAE4/C3PPHqOmxiU/s72-c/P6060123.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-2648466067452619996</id><published>2008-06-04T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T09:47:20.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In the Beginning...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgW2UpibEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/GL_27WP80wE/s1600-h/P6030044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208438091565657154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgW2UpibEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/GL_27WP80wE/s200/P6030044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here we are, day three, and good 'n tired. We are here with Mollie and Cat from Jonesboro, AR and Levi from Colorado. We are staying in a travel trailer in West Helena, AR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have worked three mornings in a 4-acre garden...weed eating, planting, (prantin' according to Mr. Allen), and staking tomatoes. I decided to take a picture of myself to see how dirty I was since I didn't have a mirror. This picture is after 4 hours of running the wead eater &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgWf0pibDI/AAAAAAAAAEo/NUP9x9rgOXA/s1600-h/P6030054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208437705018600498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgWf0pibDI/AAAAAAAAAEo/NUP9x9rgOXA/s200/P6030054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;through the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEdhAEpia-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/mThTbH4ylX8/s1600-h/P6030056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208238147953126370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEdhAEpia-I/AAAAAAAAAEA/mThTbH4ylX8/s200/P6030056.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have worked three afternoons at the Community Center playing dodgeball, basketball, cards, ultimate frisbee, and entertaining all the kids. We have taken the Stories on Wheels bus out and read books for about 60 preschoolers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEdh9Epia_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/ZgTXJUvTZik/s1600-h/P6040078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208239195925146610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEdh9Epia_I/AAAAAAAAAEI/ZgTXJUvTZik/s200/P6040078.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgVf0pibBI/AAAAAAAAAEY/xQg_BBwZy1M/s1600-h/P6040087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208436605506972690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgVf0pibBI/AAAAAAAAAEY/xQg_BBwZy1M/s200/P6040087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We scrimmaged Ben's baseball team last night and then went to their game tonight. We have squeezed in an evening of card playing back at the Newell's house. We took Mollie's car to have the car tire reparied and took Nicholas to the doctor for an antibiotic (double ear infection). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have a busy week next week with a FCA basketball camp and also all of the preparation for the CBF General Assembly meeting in Memphis the next week. Will write more later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208437022118800418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgV4EpibCI/AAAAAAAAAEg/UENK80skNbM/s200/P6040072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-2648466067452619996?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2648466067452619996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=2648466067452619996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2648466067452619996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2648466067452619996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/06/in-beginning.html' title='In the Beginning...'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEgW2UpibEI/AAAAAAAAAEw/GL_27WP80wE/s72-c/P6030044.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-2246041606924256453</id><published>2008-05-30T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T19:53:37.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Road Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC9k0pia3I/AAAAAAAAADI/VWoQrGlR4Bo/s1600-h/P5300028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206369609546099570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC9k0pia3I/AAAAAAAAADI/VWoQrGlR4Bo/s200/P5300028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are headed for Helena, Arkansas at 6am tomorrow morning. It is about a 12 hour trip if we only make two stops, once in Knoxville, TN and the other in Jackson, TN. I think I could drive to California as long as I had three items and my road trip crew. I hate my trusty sidekick Bethany/Brittany is not able to come with us. We dedicate this road trip to you B and I will blow a mouthful of shells out the window in your honor...probably near Seeeeevurville!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-2246041606924256453?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/2246041606924256453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=2246041606924256453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2246041606924256453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/2246041606924256453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/on-road-again.html' title='On the Road Again'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC9k0pia3I/AAAAAAAAADI/VWoQrGlR4Bo/s72-c/P5300028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-3646498106251407235</id><published>2008-05-30T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T19:42:53.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noah's Ark Responds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;If you ask, they come 2 by 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few weeks ago, I asked the Noah's Ark Sunday school class of &lt;a href="http://www.hbbc.net/"&gt;Hayes Barton Baptist Church&lt;/a&gt; for donations in the form of baseball equipment and books. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC59Upia2I/AAAAAAAAADA/EusB0AcZFl4/s1600-h/P5300026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206365632406383458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC59Upia2I/AAAAAAAAADA/EusB0AcZFl4/s200/P5300026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben and Leonora Newell are former members of this class and have been &lt;a href="http://www.thefellowship.info/"&gt;Cooperative Baptist Fellowship&lt;/a&gt; missionaries to Helena, Arkansas for six years. They have been working on the Together for Hope ministry which implements 20-year plans in certain areas to reduce poverty. The Newell's are in need of these specific supplies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC5XEpia1I/AAAAAAAAAC4/b4tocGRhJPQ/s1600-h/P5300027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206364975276387154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="129" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC5XEpia1I/AAAAAAAAAC4/b4tocGRhJPQ/s200/P5300027.JPG" width="179" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As you can see, my car is full and ready to head to Helena tomorrow morning along with a generous cash donation that was given to help buy supplies for the Stories on Wheel bus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks, Noah's Ark! Ben and Leonora will be so excited to have all of these items.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-3646498106251407235?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/3646498106251407235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=3646498106251407235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/3646498106251407235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/3646498106251407235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/05/noahs-ark-responds.html' title='Noah&apos;s Ark Responds'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/SEC59Upia2I/AAAAAAAAADA/EusB0AcZFl4/s72-c/P5300026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-6833672647480879481</id><published>2008-04-09T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T18:21:17.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Bombs</title><content type='html'>The inaccurate and fear-inducing portrayal of dirty bombs in the media and television programs needs to be stopped. Warner Brother's television program, &lt;a href="http://www2.warnerbros.com/thirdwatch/home.html"&gt;Third Watch&lt;/a&gt;, created an episode that involved a dirty bomb; A terrorist got a job with a hazardous waste company to go from hospital to hospital collecting cesium out of x-ra&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_0lOOpF_wI/AAAAAAAAACI/FnXEKfxAsdM/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187343272179531522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_0lOOpF_wI/AAAAAAAAACI/FnXEKfxAsdM/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y machines and was using the cesium to make a dirty bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope the average American understands there is no cesium or any type of radioactive material in an x-ray machine, but rather radiation is created by electricity. Hence, if you unplug the x-ray machine at the airport scanning area, there is no energy to create x-rays, which equals no threat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found a presentation on the &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/graphics/news/gra/gdirtybomb/frame.htm"&gt;USA TODAY &lt;/a&gt;website describing how a dirty bomb works. This presentation is somewhat accurate until it totally misrepresents the effect of a dirty bomb which contradicts their earlier accurate statements. They describe the many variables related to the potency and then state that a dirty bomb could kill 1,000 people, render the immediate area unlivable for months, and increase cancer risks for decades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The true definition of a dirty bomb is an explosive device with a radioactive component. With this in mind, there is no way an ordinary household smoke detector, which contains radioactive material, if combined with a M-80 firecracker could do what USA TODAY's website predicts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photo from google.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-6833672647480879481?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6833672647480879481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=6833672647480879481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/6833672647480879481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/6833672647480879481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/dirty-bombs.html' title='Dirty Bombs'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_0lOOpF_wI/AAAAAAAAACI/FnXEKfxAsdM/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-6965482000963151887</id><published>2008-04-07T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T18:31:46.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess What I Have?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_6_X-pF_zI/AAAAAAAAACg/o7TbP3p5RwE/s1600-h/MK5X8CA8YZBGCCAY1VF3RCA32KT3MCA4SJJUDCAUBCRY9CABAKXEPCAW60O0HCAECWZVMCAR5BKUECAGUSN4MCAFW3UHUCAEVIAI2CA1JDV4UCA40II6YCAFKN1Q4CAJLJINDCANGE0K0CABX0HAZCA31VEKG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187794239450644274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_6_X-pF_zI/AAAAAAAAACg/o7TbP3p5RwE/s200/MK5X8CA8YZBGCCAY1VF3RCA32KT3MCA4SJJUDCAUBCRY9CABAKXEPCAW60O0HCAECWZVMCAR5BKUECAGUSN4MCAFW3UHUCAEVIAI2CA1JDV4UCA40II6YCAFKN1Q4CAJLJINDCANGE0K0CABX0HAZCA31VEKG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look like &lt;a href="http://www.tylerhansbrough.org/"&gt;Tyler Hansborough&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My ears sound squishy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My body has had an out-of-body experience.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My head, I think it is still attached to my neck, but I wouldn't know unless I looked in a mirror.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My feet are 20 degrees cooler than the rest of my body.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My taste buds reject the &lt;a href="http://www.vicks.com/nyquil.php"&gt;nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, fever, so I can rest medicine&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My bed is the most wonderful thing God ever created.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you guessed that I have a sinus infection, you are right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There should be a machine invented to clear your sinuses and solve this illness quickly. I remember when my dad would get a head cold. His remedy was to go to the beach, scoop up a large handful of Gulf of Mexico water, and snort it up his nose. I tried that once when I was sick. However, I used a little cleaner water from the Atlantic Ocean. The only way I can explain the pain is to say, "I felt like I had snorted fire ants!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photo courtesy of google.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-6965482000963151887?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/6965482000963151887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=6965482000963151887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/6965482000963151887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/6965482000963151887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/guess-what-i-am.html' title='Guess What I Have?'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_6_X-pF_zI/AAAAAAAAACg/o7TbP3p5RwE/s72-c/MK5X8CA8YZBGCCAY1VF3RCA32KT3MCA4SJJUDCAUBCRY9CABAKXEPCAW60O0HCAECWZVMCAR5BKUECAGUSN4MCAFW3UHUCAEVIAI2CA1JDV4UCA40II6YCAFKN1Q4CAJLJINDCANGE0K0CABX0HAZCA31VEKG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-5165648515526207830</id><published>2008-04-05T14:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T18:51:17.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Tigers!</title><content type='html'>We are 59 minutes from tip-off. I like UCLA and I like Memphis. I like UNC and I like Kansas. &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_ftvtf-HAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_AHjGejTGPk/s1600-h/ncb_a_calipari2_200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185874899863739394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_ftvtf-HAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_AHjGejTGPk/s320/ncb_a_calipari2_200.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My hopes of winning my bracket pool are shot because I picked Texas A&amp;amp;M to win it all. I love the Final Four but up until 20 minutes ago, I did not care who won. That all changed when I saw Memphis Tigers coach, &lt;a href="http://www.coachcalipari.com/calipari/"&gt;John Calipari&lt;/a&gt;, interviewed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gotigersgo.cstv.com/sports/m-baskbl/mtt/allen_andre00.html"&gt;Andre Allen&lt;/a&gt;, one of Coach Calipari's players violated team rules and is not getting to play in today's game. Seth Davis, basketball analyst for &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/writers/seth_davis/archive/"&gt;Sports Illustrated&lt;/a&gt;, interviewed Calipari on the CBS coverage of the Final Four. Davis asked about the Allen situation but Calipari would not divulge the details of the suspension. (Word on the Internet street is something to do with drugs.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Davis asked Calipari what could Allen do now and if Memphis beats UCLA today, will Allen be allowed to join the team for the Championship on Monday. Calipari's response was to just pray for Allen and hope he will move past this situation and learn from it. Calipari said he doubted Allen would be allowed to play on Monday if they beat UCLA tonight. Davis of course pressed him to answer the question and Calipari did a very nice job using the broken-record technique to reiterate he doubted Allen would be allowed to play Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calipari is down to 12 players while UCLA's has 16. Allen will be missed because he is a defensive brick wall and contributes assists on the offensive side of the floor. I hope Allen works to move past this. Coach Calipari, thank you for working to make good athletes, better people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from espn.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-5165648515526207830?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/5165648515526207830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=5165648515526207830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5165648515526207830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/5165648515526207830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/go-tigers.html' title='Go Tigers!'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_hed4LpcjdRo/R_ftvtf-HAI/AAAAAAAAAB4/_AHjGejTGPk/s72-c/ncb_a_calipari2_200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8379327854200367243.post-7326595759663298870</id><published>2008-04-04T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T18:49:32.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Heavy Heart</title><content type='html'>I contacted my childhood pastor, Dr. William D. Baker, to discuss denominational issues with him. We had a wonderful chat. We caught up on what has transpired over the years and it was so good to talk with him. He is 88 now and his mind is sharp as a tack. I will hit the highlights of our conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Baker discussed the SBC takeover and recalled it like it was yesterday. Dr. Baker was the pastor of First Baptist Church in Bay City, Texas which is south of Houston and north of Corpus Christi. In 1979, the WMU had invited Judge Paul Pressler to come and speak at their weekly meeting and they invited Dr. Baker to attend. Dr. Baker recalls he was very impressed with Judge Pressler and invited him to come and preach. Pressler jumped at the chance and volunteered to come back in two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge Pressler came and preached and Dr. Baker said it was a wonderful sermon. A prominent lawyer in Bay City invited Judge Pressler and Dr. Baker over for lunch after church. After their meal, Judge Pressler asked to speak to Dr. Baker in the private study. Upon arrival in the study, Pressler laid out a map of Texas and the southern portion was divided with Dr. Baker's name located in that region. Pressler explained that he wanted Dr. Baker to coordinate getting people in his region to the Convention meeting. Dr. Baker agreed and began making phone calls. Pressler called Dr. Baker 3-4 times a week to discuss logistics. Dr. Baker was told whatever he needed, (money, buses for transportation, food, etc.) it would be provided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baker recalls arriving at the Convention meeting in 1979 and Paige Patterson and Judge Pressler asked to meet with some of the delegates off-site. Baker said they arrived at this meeting and a very nice sit-down meal was provided. Upon conclusion of the meal, Patterson/Pressler had sheets of paper handed out to the delegates. They requested that everyone get down on their knees and ask God whether Bailey Smith or Adrian Rogers should receive the nomination.  Baker explains at this point, he realized he had been hoodwinked. He said he knew this was rotten politics. Dr. Baker stood, pushed his blank piece of paper to the center of the table, and walked out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baker and I talked in length about what transpired over the years after the meeting. He explains he never went back to another meeting and was black-listed by Patterson/Pressler.  Baker said there will always be room in this world for bigotry as long as false pride is there to feed it. He also said he will go to his grave with a heavy heart because of what has transpired in the SBC over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing the pain in Baker's voice makes me sad because he is such a good man. Dr. Baker has had a lot of sadness in his life. He survived the Great Depression, survived WWII, and even buried two wives from cancer in his lifetime. I know his heavy heart will be lightened when he is welcomed in heaven as, "My good and faithful servant!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8379327854200367243-7326595759663298870?l=thetingle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/feeds/7326595759663298870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8379327854200367243&amp;postID=7326595759663298870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7326595759663298870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8379327854200367243/posts/default/7326595759663298870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thetingle.blogspot.com/2008/04/heavy-heart.html' title='A Heavy Heart'/><author><name>Wendy Tingle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09181861945642113028</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
