tag:sueduffield.com,2005:/blogs/sue-s-blog
Sue's Blog
2023-10-16T09:56:05-05:00
Sue Duffield
false
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110978
2019-09-02T19:00:00-05:00
2022-03-01T20:50:54-06:00
Fall 2019
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<div style="text-align: center;"><em>The Fall challenge of 2019 - sharing, laughing and encouraging, never ever grows old. It goes way beyond the music, the humor, and what happens on stages or platforms. >> Performers, singers, speakers, preachers, communicators, connectors broadcasters -- let's ALL take on the urgency of being nothing more than a loudspeaker filled with the anointing of the gospel. That is MY mission; that is the call. Bring it on! </em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>For more info on each event, click <a href="/on-the-road" data-imported="1" data-link-type="page">here</a>.</em></div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110977
2019-04-01T19:00:00-05:00
2021-08-06T16:15:34-05:00
Valued Highly
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What’s your net worth? I guaran-darn-tee you—your earthly assets will never determine your value. God’s formal promise assures us in writing) that certain conditions will be fulfilled, especially the healing of a broken heart. That’s His promise of quality and durability; the assurance of intrinsic value is placed upon you. You are His prized possession. #embracethis #youarevalued #heseesyou #undone #lent #fast</div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110976
2019-03-03T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:38:13-06:00
The Slightest Things
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<p>Out of the mouths of those who soon realize, there’s more to life, comes the greatest disappointment: Fame and fortune does not bring happiness. In my journey of downsizing and minimalist living, I’ve also been under conviction, that I can do more.....with less. How I approach new opportunities of speaking, writing books and making music is also being tested and tried. Minimalism is not a radical life style. It forces you to think about what’s really important. What I put on my merchandise table at my events, is even under deep scrutiny. What do women/men really need? What is the truth as to why I sell my books and music? We recently “test-marketed” a concept that gave our audiences a chance to freely take my book and CDs. No price tag. No minimum payment. Take them even if you have no money; give them away. Ironically, people handed us more money as an offering or donation, than what we would have charged for each item. Doubled. It’s the “value system” at work. Is what I have to offer in ministry, a value to the listener? I hope so. And maybe because the Duffields are living minimally, people take notice.... taking note too that the more we value time with our family, friends and churches around the globe — instead of things — the more effective we can be. It translates. It takes a major form of vulnerability to present yourself in ministry as only needing what God provides. But I’m there. “And My God will provide ALL my needs according to His riches in glory.” I recently had two Columbia jackets stolen. Gone. And I found a way to stay warm with another coat that I had in the back of the closet. I’m content with that one. </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110975
2019-02-06T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:38:12-06:00
inHERitance Living Slides From Sue's "Dancing Queen" Conferences
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110974
2019-01-27T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:38:11-06:00
She Put the Fun in Functional!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wb6SP7qPUOk/XE-Sn2GcLPI/AAAAAAAACDM/vbLtVzJaiAQI3skisRzxcSPo2j6x9cQDQCLcBGAs/s1600/118083-Bubble-Wrap.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wb6SP7qPUOk/XE-Sn2GcLPI/AAAAAAAACDM/vbLtVzJaiAQI3skisRzxcSPo2j6x9cQDQCLcBGAs/s320/118083-Bubble-Wrap.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="270" width="320" /> </a></div>
<p>The last Monday of the month of January is considered to be <a href="https://nationaldaycalendar.com/bubble-wrap-appreciation-day-last-monday-of-january" data-imported="1">"National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day!"</a> What a rejoicing day for this abnormal crazy - who will celebrate the strangest things in life! <em>"The primary purpose of bubble wrap is to protect fragile items either in shipping or storage. People also get enjoyment from popping the bubbles in bubble wrap.."</em>, says the article. No duh. The popping of the bubbles is more than enjoyment, it's pure ecstasy as far as I'm concerned. Our UPS Store here in town has a huge roll of that "plastic sealed air" out in the open. It must be three feet tall and three feet wide. I really do have to restrain myself from attacking it.<br> <br> Today, I finished packing away some lingering fragile Christmas dishes (don't judge, I know it's Jan. 28th), and of course I wrapped them in bubble wrap. I was honoring the day without knowing it! I had to step on a few sheets, just to hear that "pop, snap - crack", and now I feel so relaxed and stress-free. LOL.<br> <br> So, truthfully, bubble wrap is both functional and "fun" at the same time. Right? Right. It really does describe me when it comes to what I do for a living. It's pretty cool that "fun" is in the word <strong>fun</strong>ctional too. It's almost like it's a license for me to be fully sanctioned, official, useful and practical, but also having a merry-making, entertaining time.<br> <br> In <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/803428.The_Humor_of_Christ" data-imported="1">The Humor of Christ</a>, Elton Trueblood argued, <em>"There are numerous passages (in scripture) . . . which are practically incomprehensible when regarded as sober prose, but which are luminous once we become liberated from the gratuitous assumption that Christ never joked. . . . Once we realize that Christ was not always engaged in pious talk, we have made an enormous step on the road to understanding."</em><br> <em><br></em> I am serious....serious about conveying to all, that living for Jesus is serious business; to be His eternal image-bearer. I love the humorous, satirical sting when Jesus said<em> “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness..” (Matthew 23:27) </em>The Pharisees and scribes needed some serious bubble wrap therapy, I'm thinking. Their neatly packaged rules and rituals needed releasing.<br> <br> And how about this for some Jesus-comedic-relief - He told the religious leaders they were completely blind by missing the whole point of being a God-follower:<em> “You blind guides, straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel!” (Matthew 23:24)</em>. Now that's funny. Straining out a gnat would have been hard work for anyone—but impossible for the blind. And what could be more ridiculous than swallowing a camel? Hilarious. This strange and pithy statement undoubtedly caused laughter to erupt, and possibly even a smirk by the Son of God.<br> <br> Jesus put the "fun" in functional in those instances, delivering truth while tuning them up. So, I'll <em>wrap</em> this up by saying, <em>"For those of us who are full of hot air, step and pounce on all those air bubbles and release the tension, the tautness and pressure - and dance on, my friend! Set yourself free from religious bondage - it's National Bubble Wrap Day!"</em> (and that's a wrap..)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110973
2018-08-07T19:00:00-05:00
2021-08-06T16:16:14-05:00
August Devotion
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/a74acaa7d26604e33bd66f36057c8ef2f86c55f9/original/screen-shot-2018-08-08-at-3-28-58-pm.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzUweDE5NSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="195" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="350" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">#AugustDevotion ? My thoughts always turn to how the sun, sea, sand and warm temperatures (to me) are pure reflections of God and His inner workings within me. Approaching my 63rd birthday soon, and I don’t quite know how that all happened. In my heart and brain, I’m still that awkward lanky-frolicking master pinball player, stubbing my toes on uneven boards of the boardwalk. I can still hear and feel the ocean and salt in my ears. I am grateful for God’s protection over the decades, (like an SPF of 1 million) but I’m even more grateful and humbled that God gave me some pretty special kids. They’re adulting now, and I live vicariously through them, but who would know — that the sand never really leaves your toes?! Their kid-voices still resonate in your head! Thank you Lord, for not withholding any good thing from me. And when the tumultuous waves of aging hit the shore and I must run to keep from being knocked to the sand, thank you again, Lord, for your promise of being my eternal shield and shade. #instaphoto #instadevo #beachlife #beachumbrella #adulting #thefutureisnow My photo: #SeaIsleCityBeach 7/2016</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110972
2018-01-29T18:00:00-06:00
2021-08-06T16:19:21-05:00
We Held Hands
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/9b6041d7bc0238ee0acba65e98195b76327c0de8/original/27332174-1653051338067644-4216290018451680402-n.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjYweDI2MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="260" width="260" /></p>
<p>The man holding my hand on the left is my Pop Pop Link. He was born on January 29th, 1904. We are walking 7th Street in Salem, New Jersey around 1957. My Pop Pop holding my hand was my favorite. Later, as he grew older, he was stricken with dementia, and it was my turn to hold his hand. Last week, while parking my car at #Costco, I noticed an elderly man crying and stumbling while walking, trying to navigate cars in the parking lot. He caught my eye. I followed him for a few minutes, then stopped my car and approached him. “Hi sir. Are you lost?” (with broken English he says — “I’m lost. I can’t find my wife.”) So I say very calmly, “It’s okay. We’ll find her.” I reached out my hand and for the next forty minutes we searched for her - inside Costco, all around the cars, and in and out of the building. We finally just sat and talked. He told me about his daughters, his Romanian descent and his love of Cadillacs. “Oh, I love Cadillacs too. Do you have a Cadillac?” (His eyes lit up like stars! He then shouted, “I remember! I have a blue Cadillac!” So I stood up from the bench and said, “Alexandru?? (I think that’s his name) Let’s go look for your car.” We started to walk, and THIS time - he grabbed MY hand and said, “I see it! I see it!” And sure enough, at the exact time we got to his navy blue Cadillac, his wife arrived with her cart. I hugged Alexandru, told his wife what had happened (she said she ordered him to stay in the car while she shopped—not a good thing). So then I merrily skipped off to go buy a moose-sized bottle of Fish Oil. After all, that’s the whole reason you go to Costco, right? Yep. To buy quantity discounts of all good things, but some things you really don’t need.....but then, just maybe even help a new friend — but holding hands is a must. My take is:<br>1️⃣ Be aware.<br>2️⃣ Be willing to help, and ask calming questions.<br>3️⃣ Call local authorities and First Responders if you see someone who is lost.<br>4️⃣ Take the time to see through and problem-solve.<br>5️⃣ Smile and walk away feeling good about yourself, when you take the time to help. ❤️ “I miss you, Pop Pop, but I saw you today in Alexandru. We held hands.” #eldercare #dementia #dementiaawareness #seniorcare #alzheimers</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110971
2017-12-27T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:38:04-06:00
Voice!
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/654783c62c2b45f9ffc5590c6a7d7bfa72914ae2/original/img-6962.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjM4eDI5NCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="294" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="238" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Remember the days in many U.S. churches where this was how the week’s Sunday <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/worshipset?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1">#worshipset</a> list was announced? Yeah. Those days... No glitzy social media promotion announcing the “set list”. No drama or worship war with the band on stage. We actually held a Hymn book. Congregants sang, and actually heard themselves sing. Sundays felt more like community than a Broadway show. And you never heard people say (to the pastor, as they exited) “Wow. That worship team ‘killed’ it today.” </strong></p>
<p><strong>Now, before you get your pants twisted in a knot and think I’ve fallen off an archaic cliff, I’m VERY excited when MUSIC is part of <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/contemporaryworship?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1">#contemporaryworship</a>. The key word there is <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/music?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1">#music</a>. Remember: WE (the <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/boomers?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1">#boomers</a>) were the first to introduce the “new” worship band form back in the early 70s. So, I’m <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/allin?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1">#allin</a> with real music that edifies, encourages, and is both vertical & horizontal in form. But something burns deep within me shouting, “I’m less interested in your form, or supposed finesse, or intense <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/worshipband?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1">#worshipband</a> rehearsals (where, God forbid, there would be a move of God —changing the set list in the actual “performance”, as some say). I travel to over 150 churches a year or more, with a vast differential of traditions, culture, style, mood, mission—with mega-music done well, to minimal music emphasis done marginally, to some with very limited musicianship. </strong></p>
<p><strong>But all of us —in the seats or pews —are crying out for the same thing: Let everybody sing! Let the walls be filled with voices! Let’s be less impressed with style, and hunger more for Holy Spirit-filled anointing in our music. While in Haiti, watching young orphans sing till they were exhausted and out of breath with euphoria, reminds me again, “This has nothing to do with state of the art sound systems, theatrical PowerPoint or commercialized songs that are limited. This is God's child, using her very first instrument to praise her God. Her. Voice. “Sing praises to God, sing praises; sing praises to our King, sing praises!”</strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="text_exposed_show">Psalms 47:6 NLT<br>I’m returning to my roots for 2018 —lifting MY voice, to Lift HIS Name. <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/worshipleader?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="text_exposed_show">#</span><span class="text_exposed_show">worshipleader</span></span></a> to <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/worshipper?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="text_exposed_show">#</span><span class="text_exposed_show">worshipper</span></span></a> <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/hymnsandspiritualsongs?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="text_exposed_show">#</span><span class="text_exposed_show">hymnsandspiritualsongs</span></span></a> <a class="_58cn" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/everybodysing?source=feed_text&story_id=1619653144740797" data-ft="{" data-imported="1"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span class="text_exposed_show">#</span><span class="text_exposed_show">EVERYBODYSING</span></span></a></span></strong></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110970
2017-06-21T19:00:00-05:00
2021-08-06T16:16:47-05:00
Sole-savin'
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/0c71899ea764c9889e49a0e123498db1041c1aa3/original/img-0480-2.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjUweDE4OCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="188" width="250" /></p>
<p>Thanks to TEVA® for making such a durable and long-lasting sandal. I've been able to trek in these things for over nine thousand miles, I figure. My calculations are correct since they've scaled mountains, rail trails, hiking paths, state parks, rainy streets, as well as muddy roads in Bermuda, Mexico, Grand Cayman, Jamaica, Philippines, Haiti and Malaysia, and even New Jersey! They are at least twelve years old and are simply my go-to foot-gear for everything rocky, messy, difficult and disgusting.</p>
<p>On missions trips they survive trudging through a human waste terrain of filth I can't even describe or care to. I feel sorry for them, actually, as I hose them down before packing them in a zip-lock bag for the plane ride home. I don't normally talk to shoes but I do recall saying out loud, "You got me through another difficult road, Tevas.. I apologize for what you had to endure."</p>
<p>Once while camping, I left them outside the tent and some crazed critter dragged one of the sandals to a wooded area. I was determined to find that right Teva, and hopping hilariously on my left Teva, I did! There are teeth marks permanently imbedded in the front of the sandal to remind me of that weird episode. They also survived icky algae and water-logged leaves that find their way every year at the bottom of my pool. Slimy things have never been a favorite to feel, so wearing them as I submerge gives me the comfort and security I need. It never occurs to me that slime and creepy things could gather on TOP of my feet -- hey, as long as the bottom of my tootsies are safe, I'm good.</p>
<p>To say that I've got my money's worth out of these is an understatement. The irony is when I opened the box twelve years ago or so, I noticed that there were two left shoes. Bummer. And since they were a gift, I didn't have the receipt. So I contacted Teva and they sent me a brand new pair. A right one and a left one. Matching. New. Pretty. Nice.</p>
<p>But now they are severely worn, with faded straps and fuzz in the velcro. I can't part with them. Ever. Too many memories; too many faithful miles of protection while sharing the gospel on missions trips. I glued the bottom with super glue to prevent the spongy plastic from coming apart. They're good for another nine thousand miles, I think, if my feet can keep up with them.</p>
<p>When you simply can't part with something because it just has too many memory-bank moments, take notice. There's something sacred about rugged worn-out shoes anyway. And if they could talk, mine would probably say, "Whew. If we had any idea where you were gonna take us, we would have stayed in that box, hoping someone with a less aggressive life-style would buy us. But since we ventured with you and you keep entrusting us with the power to protect you, we're all in. Your sole's prepared."</p>
<p>Ephesians 6:15 "For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared." (NLT)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110969
2017-06-12T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:38:00-06:00
Scrounger!
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">“One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish…”. Or in my current sphere, “One fish, two fish, Sue ate, bad fish!” Yikes and yes. I ate bad fish last month on the road somewhere. Now I’m blue, or at least I was. Somewhere in the process of the quest for good seafood, I hooked an uninvited parasitic microsporidia. Sounds worse than what it is, but still, it’s knocked me for a loop. “Green eggs and ham woulda been better, Sam-I-Am.” And my liver would have stood up and applauded.</span></p>
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">Seuss-isms aside, I am grateful for every healthy ingested morsel of food, but, as I was told (progressing countries aside) not all prepared food in U.S. restaurants are “clean”… Hmmm. Ya think? Shoot. I dined in Haiti many times, plus Philippines and other foreign countries, but never came home this sick. Thankfully a dear friend suggested I see her daughter who is a homeopathic guru. She has me on a biological warfare regimen of natural remedies. As with everything I do and everything I am, I seem to always do it royally but always portray the humor in it all. And maybe that’s part of the healing process too. So, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not “floundering." I'm actually laughing. </span></p>
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">I went to the Container Store in Nashville to buy a soft-pack mini-duffle to keep all this homeopathic chemistry set in one location. I also have charts and graphs to keep me on schedule. One of the surprises to all this is how disciplined I CAN be when I want to be. Hmmm. Amazing. Treating the cause and not just the symptom takes longer. Much longer. One friend suggested I should check myself into a clinic and have them just flush out my system over a period of five days, with (get this) …salt water. Then I’d for sure grow gills. Instead, I’ll be the best home patient, pretend I’m feeling okay with a stiff upper lip and just take lots of naps. Bland food has been my best friend too these days. “Stay away from spicy and rich foods, Sue.” Yup. Doin’ that. “Did you eat sushi? Is that how you got this “thing, Sue?” Nope. I stay far away from raw fish. Trying to pinpoint the exact culprit has been a task. “Was it the shrimp? The grouper? The oysters? The Maryland Crab? (Oh, God no - not the Maryland Crab!! Surely it wasn’t THAT… Maryland crab is the heavenly nectar of ocean/bay sustenance of life!) </span></p>
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">In the mean time, I just pray health over my pancreas and adrenals, that they just totally ignore that irritating parasite and just go about doing their job. Parasites in fish are a common natural occurrence, I’m told. Especially farm-raised fish, which is why I stay away from Tilapia. I seriously ask before ordering, “Is it wild-caught?” I’m waiting for the next smart aleck waitress to tell me, “Yes ma’am, we “wildly” caught it at the farm.” And as it turns out - </span><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">I literally “bought the farm” in my love for fish and paid a huge consequence for it. </span></p>
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">“So, Sue, will you still eat fish once you’re over this thing?” Good question. I actually ate some shrimp last night… and so far, I’m doing okay. I’ll continue to stay far away from farm-raised and stick to wild-caught. And since my mental state needs adjustment too, I find great therapy in name-calling this parasite. </span></p>
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">“You no good creek-chubsucker dog-fishin' son-of-a-mackeral summer flounder fluke eatin’ blow fish yellow-bullheaded se</span><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">a troutin’ large mouth bass-actin’ Dolly Varden cusk of a scrounger! You ain’t messin’ with me!” </span></p>
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<p><span data-blogger-escaped-style="font-kerning: none;">All said, "In Jesus' name", of course. </span></p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110968
2017-02-25T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:58-06:00
The Patty Duke Flu
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<p><br> The stiffness in my back and over-all body ache isn't fun. I've been on this decrepit bed trip way too long this week. I'm developing this weird kind of ceiling-stare that's quite mesmerizing. I'm counting how many rotations the ceiling fan makes in thirty seconds. There's also a one-second delay of sound broadcast between the television downstairs and the one in my room upstairs.. Both TV's are on AntennaTV® (yeah, we got rid of cable) and are tuned into "The Patty Duke Show". Both TV's are out of audio/video sync with each other and they do this funky echo throughout the house as if Patty and Cousin Cathy are on an excursion inside the Luray Caverns....with ceiling fans.<br> Jeff says when I'm delirious with fever-speak, I converse with my mother and Annie. I also have an incoherent dialogue with a supposed hospital nurse. I carry a complete conversation with someone else for an hour but I have no clue who it is. I ask the nurse for a styrofoam cup with ice chips. "That's what my mother always asks for," I say out loud.<br> Jeff graciously sits next to the bed in a rocking chair. I don't know how, but he contains his rolling laughter like a champ. Finally my fever breaks a little and I'm back to normal, whatever that is. And thus begins the recap of the night.<br> This amusement park of up and down common flu vs. stomach flu symptoms, with Patty Duke and the ceiling fan, has been the norm for me since last Saturday. Let's just list them all, for giggles and guffaws. A dot signifies the ones visiting me this week. The ones without the dot, thank you Jesus, decide to take their visitation elsewhere.<br> <br> 1. Fever •<br> 2. Muscle pain •<br> 3. Fatigue •<br> 4. Cough •<br> 5. Breathing difficulty<br> 6. Sneezing<br> 7. Loss of Appetite •<br> 8. Headache •<br> 9. Nasal Congestion<br> 10. Ear pain •<br> 11. Cramps •<br> 12. Stomach pain •<br> 13. Nausea •<br> 14. Vomiting •<br> 15. Diarrhea •<br> <br> "Did you get a flu shot, Sue?" I've been asked this about fifty times.<br> No, for some reason, I decided to take on the new and improved pneumonia shot this year instead.<br> "Well, no wonder," my friend says. "This strand is awful. Schools are shutting down. Influenza cases like this always happen when there's not enough of frigid cold to kill it all off." So I've heard.<br> My grandmother used to say that all the time. Cold winter kills the flu. Warm winters make everybody sick. So instead we're gifted with a few nice days of 70º and I daringly frolic through the park mid-flu-week and walk about fifty feet, then collapse on the bench. I call Jeff to come pick me up in the car. And just when I think I feel better and attempt to do some normal stuff, I inevitably end up plopping down on the bed, counting the rotations of the ceiling fan again. This time I count in Spanish. "Uno, dos, trés..."<br> One of the things I preach the most is: <em>"God often uses life's stops... to keep us going."</em> I know my schedule is crazy; I know I push my body sometimes to the limit. But I'm also amazed how God allows the stoppages to refuel me for future and profitable use down the road.<br> Psalm 119:133 says, <em>"Keep steady my steps according to your promise, and let no iniquity get dominion over me."</em> And then there's this from Proverbs 16:9 - <em>"We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps."</em><br> Two weeks off to enjoy being home; to reacquaint myself with cleaning, cooking, resting and preparing. But instead I become best friends with Patty Duke "Lane" and her cousin Cathy. One luxury of being still (besides indulging in retro television) is having time to pray. Praying urgently and intentionally for friends who are reaching out to me right now is an extraordinary gift. No distractions. No control over what I can or can't do - just sincere, focused prayer - for others, on my iPad and computer. This has been the best Rx I could ask for.<br> For those who know me and follow my words, you know. <strong>Praying for others will bring healing to your own soul and your own body.</strong> I've seen it time and time again.<br> So I laugh to myself when I think that maybe time off or "time-out" like this would be great to freshen up on my conversational Español. A great idea to help kill the time as I get over this flu. And as soon as I think that, I hear Patty Lane say to cousin Cathy, "You speak Latin? The only latin I know is Paul Anka!"<br> Bless you, my twin-cousin-friend, if you too have had a tough go of it this winter. Remember: <em>"Let no iniquity have dominion over you."</em> And count your blessings while your ceiling fan rotates. You're one step closer to getting better.<br> Let's sing together:<br> "They laugh alike, they walk alike,<br> At times they even talk alike -<br> You can lose your mind..."<br> <br> But we won't! :)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110967
2016-08-25T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:57-06:00
Watermeloncholy No More
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<p><strong>Summer. Who’s holding on for dear life like I am?? I do this every year, actually. I anticipate and dream of the crisp fall nights, but I also can’t let go of the hot sun, my rare poolside sitting and… watermelon.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Watermelon. Candy fruit. That’s what it really is. Mark Twain was quoted, “To taste a watermelon is to know what the angels eat.” I wholeheartedly agree.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Now, conversely, to eat a <em>bad</em> watermelon, is to know what the devil eats. Seriously, I’ve been known to spit out a mutilated slice of hopeful delicious delight, if my mouth is offended in any way. I gag and heave, making weird sounds. There’s nothing worse than a bad watermelon. And you can’t always tell, just by the visual. Some of the most red-acious ones may not always be the sweetest. That’s the irony.</strong></p>
<p><strong>There’s a thousands-year-old breeding history of how we’ve arrived to this red-on-the-inside-green-on-the-outside delectable delight. There’s also completely boring rhetoric that I won’t waste your time reading, but it took many years for the watermelon to take on its familiar red hue. That’s because the gene for the color red is paired with the gene that determines the sugar content. As watermelons were bred to become even sweeter (because that’s what we really want), their interior gradually changed color…and taste. Red = Sweet. Hmmm.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Finally, a fruit fit for the angels! It took several thousand years to get to this specifically glorious hybrid. Today, 100 million tons of watermelon are grown annually worldwide. All shapes, sizes, colors and, uh, tastes. </strong></p>
<p><strong>I am a watermelon snob. Like I said, I won’t waste my time or my taste buds on a bad one. But if I find one that is perfect, I’ve been known to eat the whole melon in one sitting! (Although now, I prefer the pre-packaged kind that’s already been sliced and diced into handy little finger-food containers.) Yes, I’ve even become that lazy….”Please, someone - please cut it for me!”</strong></p>
<p><strong>I also hear the proclamation of scripture here from Psalm 119:103, “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” Our words are known to be both sweet and sour at times. That’s just the reality. But the red hue of my Savior’s blood is useful for the repentance of sin and degrading speech. “His blood will make our consciences pure from useless acts so we may serve the living God” (Hebrews 9:14 NCV)</strong></p>
<p><strong>Nor more useless acts. No more wasting time ruminating over the ‘bad watermelon’ of life. Move on. Serve the Living God who delights in us, by giving us His son Jesus as a sacrifice. Because the blood of Christ has redeemed us, we are now new creations in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17), and by His blood we are freed from sin to serve the living God, to glorify Him, and to enjoy His sweet presence forever.</strong></p>
<p><strong>How sweet is that? And maybe to adjust Mark Twain a little bit here, I think it’s best said, “To know Jesus and His sacrifice on the cross is to know what the angels know.” And that’s pretty sweet. Red = Sweet. Amen.</strong></p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110966
2016-03-18T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:54-06:00
A Daughter-Land Awaits Her King
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<br> <br> I’ve always loved being called a daughter. And even though my parents are gone, I still am known to refer to myself as Al and Naomi Beatty’s daughter. It’s a statement of honor, remembrance, and high esteem. In while I love being called wife, mother, sister, friend (and sometimes goofball!), I’m overwhelmingly fond of the royal name-call of daughter. In the Gospel of Matthew, the King coming on the foal of a donkey was an exact fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9, “Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” A daughter-land awaiting her King. Despite the constant rebellion of the daughter of Zion (Israel) against her Father, He promises to restore her and present her with a Deliverer-King in the form of Jesus. “Daughter” implies that God is a loving father. He loves His people, even when they reject Him. By using the metaphor “daughter of Zion,” God shows how He felt for the rebellious Israelites: frustrated, angry, but always with a hopeful eye to the future when the relationship would be restored. He could once again return to them and welcome them into His arms (Zechariah 2:10). On this Palm Sunday of my sixtieth year, this daughter, too, awaits her King. And even when she has gravely disappointed Him, hurt Him or hurt others with a spiritual veneer of positioning or prideful justification, He returns to her again and again. I welcome you, Jesus. This daughter jumps for joy with grateful anticipation of your arrival. “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord – the King of Israel!”
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110965
2015-12-29T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:53-06:00
A Green Miracle
<p> On Christmas Eve, Annie and I spent a few hours in the kitchen baking Mom Mom Duffield’s candy cane cookies. It wasn’t as easy as the recipe suggested, but we tackled it and made a huge amount of red and white batter. We forgot to add the granular sugar in one batch, but then couldn't remember if we added it along with the powdered sugar in the second batch. It didn’t matter. The batter tasted great anyway. And the secret was that crazy almond extract. And even better, we once again possessed that Betty Crocker “Cooky Book”, thanks to Amazon and Annie’s search.</p>
<p> Before Thanksgiving this year, I lost one of my pretty green peridot and diamond earrings somewhere in or outside this house. Before Mom Mom passed away in 2003, she gave me those earrings and I was particularly irritated at myself for losing one now, after all these years. I wrapped the lone earring in a tissue and carefully stored it in my jewelry box. So, getting ready that Christmas Eve morning, I glanced at the rolled tissue in my jewelry box. I said out loud, “God - this would surely be a great day to find that earring, considering Annie and I are gonna bake “her” cookies from the Cooky Book tonight.” </p>
<p> We laughed as we tried to roll out the dough, the white and red, twisting and pinching the strands. Our candy cane shapes weren’t too pretty; more like a fat flat Peter Max creation, but they sure did smell and taste good. I decided to make the leftover batch green and turn them into wreaths. Much easier to roll out and bend in a circle. We laughed and thought, “Mom Mom, no wonder you were in the kitchen for days making these things!” My wreaths baked up to look more like monster truck tires. </p>
<p> This was the first year too for me to put lights on my outdoor shrubs around our porch here in Tennessee. And it’s also the first Christmas without our Pop Geo and brother Wayne. Lots and lots of thoughts and emotions for sure. I took a break from the hot kitchen to catch a glimpse of that awesome full moon. Outside on the front yard while I walked across the grass, I saw something shining and reflecting from the lights. It was flickering as if it was on fire. I bent down to see what it was, and behold - there was my earring! My green birthstone diamond peridot earring that Mom Mom and Pop Geo gave me. I ran into the house and shouted, “I can’t believe this! I found my earring!” </p>
<p> The likelihood that I’d drape Christmas lights on my shrubs this year? Rare. The chances that I’d go outside to see the full moon that night? It’s possible. And the change of the cookie dough to green? Crazy. And the reflection of a flickering green twinkle light revealing my treasured green peridot earring in a sea of green grass? A miracle. A surreal green miracle. Thank you, Mom Mom, for smiling upon us and thank you, God, for showing me how to pay attention, again.</p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110964
2015-11-26T18:00:00-06:00
2021-08-06T16:17:51-05:00
NEW! HYMNPHONIC 2 "Christmas Carols"
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110963
2015-11-10T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:48-06:00
Jesus TOOK the Wheel!
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<p><br> Trying to drive in the glaring westerly sun on the annoying construction-coned southbound lanes of the North East Extension's Pennsylvania Turnpike, is just about as irritating as reading this l-o-n-g drag-on opening sentence. But I did it on Sunday, and I feel very accomplished. Each time my eyes would start to drift into the shaded eyelid half moon stare, my body would jolt with a surge of adrenaline. "Time to stop...", I said out loud, to no one, but me. "If I can just find a safe place to stop, I'll put my head back for a few minutes and I'll be fine."<br> <br> And that's what I did. At the rest area. For about two hours.<br> <br> This type of exhaustion follows every time there's an out-pouring of God moments at a thirty-six hour marathon called a women's retreat. And this time was no exception. About one hundred and eighty women gathered at the beautiful Tuscarora Inn near the Delaware River in Mt. Bethel, PA to experience a hopeful encounter with Jesus and their girlfriends. Some came as far as Maine, Connecticut, Ohio and mostly from Jersey, NYC and Pennsylvania. I came from a history of speaking for over two hundred retreats in about a decade. But this one was particularly special on many fronts.<br> <br> Women weren't expecting to laugh so much. That seemed to be the eternal conversation starter. Women didn't expect that laughter would do its healing as much as it did. This was talked about over and over. Women enjoyed the fact that their fallible and imperfect speaker was relevant and real, and not so super-sized spiritually, but walking this same journey as they. I heard this over and over. Women, who at first fought as to whether to even attend, thanked me because they just weren't expecting this kind of thing.<br> <br> What "IS" this kind of thing? The Church of the Lutheran Brethren Women's Retreat covered a vast array of denominations. I mean, it wasn't just CLB women who attended. Like a smorgasbord of culture and beliefs, there were some that came just to have fun. Perfect. They're exactly who I prayed would come. And this "kind of thing" was setting the atmosphere so the Holy Spirit would show up.<br> <br> The topic and message of the weekend, as invasive as it can get, was called "Serving from the Second Chair". It was my fourth time presenting this message. But again, I felt the inward pangs of conviction and scrutiny, "How can I lead from the second chair, when it seems all I do is war against being first or wanting to be first in everything?"<br> <br> One young woman named Rebecca reminded me. "Sue, I didn't want to come. I struggled to make it to the first session. But I stayed. I made myself stay. And now I realize that God had something miraculous for me to experience."<br> <br> So, we wipe away tears and we store up the laughter, and praise God for an encounter that will probably go down as an all-time fave. Many women found Jesus as their Savior. Young women poured their hearts out to God. And the seasoned saints were reminded that our God is real. We laughed, we had spontaneous dance (like a Go-Go girl!) and we begged our heavenly Father to hold us accountable to Him and to each other. One woman expressed, "I really liked the weekend. It definitely wasn't what I was expecting. I'm still learning about this God stuff."<br> <br> I don't know how everyone drove home that afternoon without passing out! But thankfully, it looks like we all made it home safely. As I awoke from the power nap off of 476, I laughed to myself as I saw signs of bone-tired effects. My hands were still on the steering wheel! I popped them off with a firecracker release and raised them to the air and said out loud, "Dear...God! I even try to drive in my sleep!"</p>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thank you, Darci. You blessed me.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bless you, Rebecca. Go with God!</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Also posted over at <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2015/11/jesus-took-wheel.html" data-imported="1">SUEbiquitous</a>!</div>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110962
2015-10-29T19:00:00-05:00
2015-10-30T12:54:28-05:00
Chew On This One
<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8czrQWS4sd8/TMiEYz-hVII/AAAAAAAAAaY/Cyk538gkvdM/s1600/dirty_kids_16.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8czrQWS4sd8/TMiEYz-hVII/AAAAAAAAAaY/Cyk538gkvdM/s320/dirty_kids_16.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532817704028820610" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 218px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <br> Our small town high school football games were always the highlight of the fall. It was a chance for everyone—no matter what age—to come out and support the kids, enjoying both the camaraderie and competition of the surrounding schools. It was also a chance for students, like me at the time, to check out the other guys from neighboring schools. You can imagine my disappointment when my girlfriend called and said, “My mom says we have to bring my baby sister with us to the game.”<br> <br> <span style="font-style:italic">Great.</span> This was just what two teenagers needed to spoil a potential fun afternoon— babysitting a four-year-old at a packed football stadium! I had visions of her whining, crying, begging for snacks and killing our dream of checking out the boys on the football team! I panicked about what would happen if—worst case scenario—we lost her or someone stole her!<br> <br> My fun-filled opportunity turned sour at about half time. The toddler kept complaining that I was holding her hand too tightly. She had to go to the potty at least four times. We sat on the lower level of the bleachers, but still fought the fear that she’d slip off the back of them and tumble to the ground. I was a wreck! The only good thing happening was that our team was winning. With every touchdown, there was elation and screams of joy— fans standing, jumping and cheering. For one second, when we were captivated in the euphoria of the moment, I glanced down beside me and noticed the toddler was gone! My heart stopped. My friend started screaming her name, while I was suddenly translated into FBI mode, feverishly looking underneath the bleachers. <span style="font-style:italic">Her mother is going to kill us</span>, I thought to myself.<br> <br> About five minutes later, we found the little girl at the far end bottom of the bleachers. She sat on the ground, face filthy, grinning from ear to ear, and was chewing a wad of something rather large. I grabbed her and picked her up and said, “What in the world is in your mouth?” She responded proudly, “Gum!” When I inquired about where she got it, she replied, quite happily, “Underneaf da seats!”<br> <br> I was cured for a long time from ever agreeing to take a toddler to a football game! My friend and I ran to the ladies room, washed the girl’s mouth out with water and soap, and prayed that God would somehow protect her from whatever disease and germs she had ingested “Underneaf da seats!”<br> <br> I wish you could have seen her cute little face as she proudly relayed the story of the treasure she had found that day. She had no idea how deadly that little act of “bubblegum search and rescue” could have been for her. Thank goodness, she never got sick!<br> <br><span style="font-weight:bold"> Here are some fun things to “chew” on:</span><br> 1. Taking a baby or toddler to a football game or a large venue with lots and lots of people will insure that you will be “underneaf” stress and pressure for sure!<br> 2. Stay “underneaf” the protection of God. Pray daily for the covering of His Holy Spirit—in your coming and going, and especially in difficult situations when you are totally unaware!<br> 3. Live “underneaf” the grace of God. Carol Kent’s book, <span style="font-style:italic">Between A Rock and A Grace Place</span>, is an amazing look at how we can discover divine places amidst the tough spots in life.<br> 4. Walk “underneaf” the knowledge that there is no fear in Christ. He is our provider and our strong tower. He is our safe place! I guess we could say, we’re “underneaf” His wings!<br> <br> “The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and are safe” (Proverbs 18:10).<br> <br>(Originally posted on Laugh Lines, <a href="http://www.women.ag.org/" data-imported="1">click here!</a> (The Women's AG website) Also, more on <a href="http://www.sueduffield.blogspot.com" data-imported="1">SUEbiquitous</a>! too!</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110961
2015-08-18T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:45-06:00
Doggy Golf
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gJtX7JKdaao/VdSaNJqg2eI/AAAAAAAABxc/zril5cVQSm8/s1600/10561063674_e68b1bf43d_z.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gJtX7JKdaao/VdSaNJqg2eI/AAAAAAAABxc/zril5cVQSm8/s1600/10561063674_e68b1bf43d_z.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" /></a></div>
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<p><br> As I walk the park this morning, I see a young couple trying to play disc golf. Their terrier thinks he is part of the game too. I laugh as I watch. Every time "dad" or "mom" try to throw the disc towards the goal, the dog catapults into a rocket run and retrieves the disc back to their starting position. They keep yelling, "No, Butch! NO! Put it down! Butch! Sit down!"<br> <br> Now, I'm no dog obedience trainer and I'm especially not an expert on training dogs for sport, but I had to chuckle at this escapade. What did they expect, when their little furry child isn't on a leash? And for goodness sake, this is like heaven for a dog. Of course he thinks he's part of the game!<br> <br> I'm assuming they think it's unfair to put Butch on a leash. So they let him run around. But the constant yelling throughout the park today, sets another thought in motion for me: "You take your dog to the park, you throw little round discs all around and you expect your dog to <em><strong>not</strong></em> be engaged?" Weird.<br> <br> Butch saw me as I made the final lap and made a dash for me. Of course, mom and dad are yelling, "Butch - get over here! Butch - NO!" But me being the dog lover, I just bend down and put my hand out as if to say, "It's OK, Butch, I understand you." He sits in front of me and I pet him for a minute. I talk to him, "I'm sorry Butch. I get you. Mom and Dad take you to this awesome park and you're not aloud to be a dog. Just take it in stride, Butch. They'll come around some day."<br> <br> Parenting is a tough thing. And we all make mistakes and do dumb stuff. But a favorite memory of mine happened when I insisted that my kids NOT play in the mud and the rain, even after letting them play outside. I remember yelling, "Get out of that mud puddle! Don't you dare get dirty!" Yet, I still let them play outside after the storm. Finally, my friend said (since we were at her house), "Oh, just let them get dirty. Who cares. They're having fun. And they'll never forget the day their mother said they could frolic in the filth."<br> <br> She was right. My kids never forgot that.<br> Let a kid be a kid. And for sure - let a dog be a dog!<br> <br> Maybe I'll go back to the park and rescue Butch from his conflicting mixed-messaged parents. I have plenty of new mulch in my backyard he can roll around in. :)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110960
2015-07-28T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:44-06:00
Extended Warranty
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tdt3SexD_Vc/VbhAFv0pFHI/AAAAAAAABw4/LGd5EJxKCkU/s1600/canstockphoto14903571.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tdt3SexD_Vc/VbhAFv0pFHI/AAAAAAAABw4/LGd5EJxKCkU/s320/canstockphoto14903571.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="295" width="320" /></a></div>
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<p><br> <br> I don’t think much about warranties on things. I usually turn down extended warranties just because they are so over priced and not necessary. I did succumb to Apple Care for my iPhone and computer, but that’s only because I’m such a klutz. My technology gear goes with me everywhere I go. So if I fall down steps with my iPad flying or drop a few iPhones in toilets, I’m covered. <br> <br> But the logic of today hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m debating whether to invest in a really good smoothie-maker machine. You know the one. The one that costs like 3 billion dollars (well, not really), but its claims are stellar. This particular model has a built in blade guarantee for seven years. Seven years. Yes, sev-en.<br> <br> Forty years ago as a newlywed and homemaker, a seven year warranty claim and bragging rights of being the best of the best smoothie maker (or blender, as they once were called) wouldn’t impress. I mean, really? Who cares about that long of a warranty? Just buy another one or a cheap one when it breaks. I also wouldn’t care, to tell you the truth. But this shift known as “my sixtieth year” (shocking as it is), makes me think, “Wow. If I buy this, I’ll be sixty-seven by the time the warranty runs out!” Ouch.<br> <br> It’s both sobering and encouraging at the same time. I even find myself thinking, like after buying our new Ford Flex back in May, “Maybe this will be the last new car I’ll need for the road . Great extended warranty and mileage coverage.” Never thought this way before..<br> <br> These are all new feelings, new territory and a new queasiness, actually. The day you start thinking ahead and predicting where you’ll be in the equation to “how much time do I have left?”, or “what kinds of funds will I have later on?” puts me in a more strategic way of thinking.<br> <br> Webster’s definition of “guarantee” is: A formal promise or assurance (typically in writing) that certain conditions will be fulfilled. I love that. And here it is in writing, according to Ephesians 1:14 <em>(The Message)</em> <br> <br> <em> “It’s in Christ that you, once you heard the truth and believed it (this Message of your salvation), found yourselves home free—signed, sealed, and delivered by the Holy Spirit. This signet from God is the first installment on what’s coming, a reminder that we’ll get everything God has planned for us, a praising and glorious life.”</em><br> <br> Talk about a perfect warranty! I didn’t have to pay for this extended guarantee either. It was already purchased for me, a gift. All I have to do is receive it in faith through Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. And the best part of this warranty is:<strong> It never runs out. It never expires. I am completely covered.</strong> And you can be too. The upgrade is simply amazing!</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110959
2015-07-27T19:00:00-05:00
2015-07-28T06:26:28-05:00
Summer Sarcasm
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xbVbXC7HThs/VbfAqBl_UYI/AAAAAAAABwc/hEg1orbydK0/s1600/IMG_3354.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xbVbXC7HThs/VbfAqBl_UYI/AAAAAAAABwc/hEg1orbydK0/s320/IMG_3354.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="317" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"There's always time to write your thoughts</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Or "right" your thoughts", she said</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For even in the worst of times</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And can't get out of bed</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's great to know the sun still shines</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And rain will always fall</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For all we need is memes & quotes</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To remind us of it all</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Coma talk, and blah blah blah</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Quotes we cannot live without</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I guess to some will change the world</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But that I highly doubt.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><a href="http://www.sueduffield.com/" data-imported="1">-Sue Duffield</a></em></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> It’s your heart, not the dictionary, that gives meaning to your words..</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Matthew 12:36 </div>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110958
2015-07-19T19:00:00-05:00
2021-08-06T16:19:54-05:00
Doin' it kickin' & screamin'!
<p>I've done this before. Many times, in fact. But I always know, that if you monitor or document what you eat every day, you'll see the real truth. And here's the truth: I'm not dying of hunger. I'm not "dieting"... I'm literally eating good food, healing foods, that (coupled with cardio and workouts) I'm slowily seeing the bathroom scale as a good friend. But better than the scale, it's the overall feeling of wellness. An old guy named Draper, lapped me at the walking park today (he's 75; I'm 60), but I told him it won't be long before he'll have competition!<br> All I can say is this: Do this. This is the day to start. Even if you've had trouble meeting your health goals before, take the time to (like the Old Testament book Habakkuk 2:2 says), "Write it down." And in our case here, post it every day on <a href="http://www.myfitnesspal.com/" data-imported="1">MyFitnessPal</a>.<br> I have 42 pounds to go to my goal. So far, it appears that I'm losing about 8 pounds per month. And that's right on schedule. Thanks <a href="http://www.myfitnesspal.com/blog/SueDuffield/view/doin-it-kickin-screamin-756235" data-imported="1">My Fitness Pal</a> app - check my blog post there!<br> </p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110957
2015-07-18T19:00:00-05:00
2015-07-19T09:40:43-05:00
So, Now It's PERISCOPE!
<p>YES, we definitely need new ways to use our already app-filled IOS or Android devices! As if we're not on our phones long enough as it is! But this one, I gotta say, is like broadcasting live from wherever you are, and followers have a chance to interact with you while your broadcasting! Crazy crazy... So, the app is only about fourteen weeks old and it's off the charts already. It's a great way to interact with your audience if you're a performer or speaker or a nut-zoid like me! Download the app today (Periscope) and find Sue Duffield... She's there doing something, I'm sure!</p>
<p><a href="https://www.periscope.tv/w/aHwIajgyMTIzNDN8NDMwOTYwMDVfGFZPGg63ru-8KSiJXa4eYii1Xiz061htXOp5wMqvdw==" data-imported="1">Periscope TV!</a></p>
<p> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110956
2015-06-29T19:00:00-05:00
2021-08-06T16:20:33-05:00
I Changed How I Pray
<p><strong><em>Ephesians 6:18</em></strong></p>
<p><em>"And pray in the spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying FOR ALL THE SAINTS.”</em></p>
<p> I studied this verse for years, not knowing really why Paul, even in his hardship and imprisonment, would say such a thing. For surely, wasn’t Paul a “saint”? And wasn’t Paul in the toughest place in his life when he said this? Of course he was. But rather than asking for believers to pray for his release or for comfort from God to detox the stress in his life, he instead instructed others to “..pray in the spirit on all occasions….and be alert….<em>and keep on praying for </em><strong><em>all</em></strong><em> the saints.</em>”</p>
<p> This one verse has revolutionized how I approach my prayer life. For years, I would (of course) pray for <em>my</em> needs, <em>my</em> kids, <em>my</em> husband, <em>my </em>ministry, <em>my my my</em>…..everything. And for years, I saw the hand of God be slow to answering many of these prayers. Some of our prayers are not prayers at all. They are need lists, rant lists and “to do” lists, as if God is some kind of cosmic bellboy.</p>
<p> Lee Brace of the Navigators says, “Prayers in the Bible are primarily for praying and interceding for the believers. When Christ is lifted up through believers, <strong><em>He draws people to Himself</em></strong>.”</p>
<p> I thought about this for quite some time. Except for Jesus teaching us “how” to pray the Lord’s Prayer, there are few scriptures that tell us how we should pray. So, for a few months I did just what Paul said to do - Pray FOR ALL THE SAINTS, that they would be equipped for duty for the cause of Christ, to fight and resist the devil and his tactics, and that by this, those around them would be drawn to Him.. I prayed and listed missionaries, pastors and ministry leaders right and left. I prayed and singled out specific Christians around the world who are on the front lines; those who literally have to choose between life and death everyday.</p>
<p> Can I honestly tell you? Some of the very prayers that I had prayed for years have now been answered. That’s right. I’m telling you the truth. It’s as if God heard me, because I was interceding for His children; the ones who are spreading truth around the world. I quit praying for my needs, and made it about the needs of others. And all the while I had my focus on scripturally-sound prayers and petition, God has been answering my first prayers.</p>
<p> Here’s an example: Instead of praying for my son, his new job and his relationship with Christ, I’ve been praying, (1) “Lord, thank you for the co-workers and bosses that surround my son everyday. Bless you, God, for raising up the strong Christians at his work, to be an influence on my son.” (2) “I praise you Father for my daughter. I ask in Jesus’ Name, for a strong, Christ-like man to come into her life; the one you have prepared her heart for. May you strengthen him right now, whoever and wherever he is.”</p>
<p> Both prayers mention my kids, but both prayers do more than just ask God for personal reasons. I’m asking God to “equip” the saints around them, to be a hedge of protection, to bring living breathing life to the Christians that my children come in contact with every day, as a guide and spiritual influence. I never prayed like this before. And I also have to say, I’ve never seen such miraculous moves of God in my adult kids’ lives - either, ever.</p>
<p> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/630544b9225b2a726a4a1024d9f504c14e4bc304/original/girl20praying20over20bible.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDA1eDI2OSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="269" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="405" /></p>
<p> On this National Day of Prayer, be mindful of “how” you pray. Write it down. Ask God to “equip the saints”, to do the work of the Lord. Be ready FOR CHANGE when you change how you pray.</p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>(written for SGNScoops online Magazine)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Special thanks to author/speaker, Cynthia Heald, who changed my life with her teachings and Bible studies.</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Also on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2015/05/i-changed-how-i-pray.html" data-imported="1">"SUEbiquitous"</a></em></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110955
2015-05-05T19:00:00-05:00
2022-05-21T10:21:17-05:00
Second Chair Retreat in Ocean City, NJ
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/db711179b62eba7025997787cdeed2feeee34d38/original/second-chair-poster-promo.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTA1eDY1NSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="655" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="505" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Women from all over South Jersey came to share in the joy and hilarity of preparing our hearts for service. I am deeply changed by responses of so many, ranging in ages from teen to...well, let's just say... my age! Powerful words of edification were spoken. Thanks to Fairton Christian Center Women's Ministry for giving me the chance to let God use me. I'll never forget you!</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110954
2015-05-05T19:00:00-05:00
2015-05-06T12:13:02-05:00
The Night In Paducah!
<p style="text-align: center;">Almost 150 ladies jammed into the fellowship hall of Bellview Baptist in Paducah on Saturday night, April 18th, 2015. I knew from the start that this would be a monumental experience of chocolate, California Chicken Salad sandwiches, chocolate fountains and tons of laughs. Over twenty churches represented, it was a stellar event directed by Carolyn Martin and her committee of creatives. But the best part was the power of the anointing that fell fresh on the place; many moments of tears and laughter. I praise God for every opportunity like this, never ever taking it for granted. Women of all ages, including Madi - who helped me play air guitar! Praising God today, that many women will be empowered for greatness today, walking in total forgiveness by our Savior.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/baccb677c989f1594875dbbcc8abbfddcdb10b4d/original/img-2136.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDkyeDMyMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="320" width="492" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110953
2015-03-31T19:00:00-05:00
2015-03-31T22:01:49-05:00
Delanco Camp Memories
<p>Jeff and I were newlyweds, just married about six months when we were asked to join the music staff of the Delanco Family Camp Week in NJ back in 1974. We have Dave VanSciver of then Ocean Grove, to blame for all this. He’s the one who thought we were worthy of such an invite. And that first visit turned out to be a life-time of memory making Delanco calendar stops from 1974 all the way through to as recent as 2010. </p>
<p>I remember meeting Carleton Bodine, Sr., president of Delanco Camp and recalling him eyeing us up and down. I’m sure he was thinking, “There’s no way that these radical contemporary singers will fit into our more conservative audience.” He probably was right. The song services, as they called them in ’74, were much more traditional and more mainstream, usually led by inspirational artist, Frank Jacobs. On the piano was the ever-present Mary Boughton, a favorite for many years.</p>
<p>So, to break in to this well-established Delanco machine was no easy fete. But we were no dummies either. In while I would have loved to have turned up the amps and fire up our reel-to-reel tracks, filled with drums and Andrae Crouch songs, our very first song on that infamous July Friday night in '74 was “Down By The Well”. I chose this sacred song because it was written by good friends of the Bodines, Herb and Blanche Osborn of Bridgeton, NJ. I smile as I think even back then (only twenty years old), I knew what political persuasion and favor could do. Everyone smiled. Everyone lifted their hands. And the start of the Duffield music influence began at Delanco.</p>
<p>Needless to say, two twenty year olds - Jeff on the piano and me on vocal - were some of the early singers to introduce a more contemporary worship sound to Delanco Camp. Carleton Bodine, Jr., and his leadership, desired to reach out to a younger audience. The singing group he led, The King’s Crusaders, performed a mix of contemporary and gospel favorites sung by some of south Jersey’s best teens… many of which are still our friends today.</p>
<p>On those July summer nights in the 70s when Family Camp was at its peak, you could hardly find an empty seat on those wooden benches. And be prepared that if you didn’t come early enough for those evening services, you’d have to park way off in some sand ditch! It was an exciting time of our lives. It was the formation of our worship music. It was the beginning of something supernatural in the lives of teens as well as adults. </p>
<p>Oh, and we can’t forget the sandpit softball games with Jerry Ruff! We’d die of exhaustion and heat, but those were some great duels. After ten days in a row of softball, singing, leading devotions, consuming some pretty doggone good camp food, preaching, drinking way too much BOOST, and staying up late every night - I gotta say, “I miss it all.”</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/01000e559a14b9c2c5785c7ac44b301825393c8a/original/tabernacleslide1.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzA0eDE5NyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="197" width="304" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110952
2015-03-05T18:00:00-06:00
2015-03-06T07:44:52-06:00
Holy Spirit Technicalities
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/d294632e331791597813c07531674661d90d96ca/original/sueduffield-mar2015-pic.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzUweDIzMSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="231" width="350" /></p>
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<p style="text-align: center;">With her permission, I want to share an email with you. This woman recently attended a service where Jeff and I ministered.</p>
<p><em>Dear Duffields, </em></p>
<p><em> My heart was heavy today as I entered my church. It was a cold and bitter day outside and it almost reflected exactly what was going on in my own heart. I was surprised to see that we were having a guest ministry share this morning. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was disappointed that my pastor wasn’t speaking today. My husband and I had a terrible fight just as I walked out the door. He’s not a Christian, and I go through this almost every time I make any concerted effort to do anything spiritual. It’s quite a battle. He especially hates when I give money or tithe and that makes me so sad. </em></p>
<p><em> You wouldn’t know this, because I attempt to smile a lot and cover up my despair on the inside. We’ve also been slammed with financial hardship and that makes it doubly hard to live in that house. My husband’s uncle passed away recently and he was a good Christian, but all my husband could say was, “Foolish man - gave most of his money to that church. Just think how he could have taken care of all of us with that!?” Of course I think, “Foolish man (my husband), if you took care of your wife it wouldn’t be so hard”. I work two jobs and my husband is on disability.</em></p>
<p><em> I’m sorry to drag you through all this, but it will make sense to you in a moment: What happened today during the worship time while you were singing, was such healing for me. I “heard” my Heavenly Father say to me, “Daughter, I know you. I love you. I am your Source. Please love your husband unconditionally and walk tall and stand firm. I got this. Do not suffer despair anymore. I will deal with your husband and he will turn around, but you must love him first. Do not be his slave, but love him. You are not to blame. You have been faithful.” So instead of hearing my pastor this morning, God brought you. And even through the laughter and tears I can say, thank you for all you shared to help me open my eyes, ears and heart. Bless you for coming… </em></p>
<p><em> In Jesus’ name, Jane</em></p>
<p><strong>Now, here’s the technical details of that worship service:</strong></p>
<p>1. No song was sung about marriage.</p>
<p>2. There was no mentioning of tithing or giving.</p>
<p>3. No instructional teaching or preaching on “wives, love your husbands…”.</p>
<p>4. No sharing about depression or despair and how God can overcome.</p>
<p>5. I didn’t sing a single irrelevant song, just to tickle ears or make people like me.</p>
<p>6. I never once mentioned the “how to” or even give a five point sermon on relationships.</p>
<p>7. But what we did do was laugh, sing and worship.</p>
<p>We worshiped so much that the atmosphere was filled with a calming presence of the Holy Spirit…just singing and worshiping and letting God heal, transform, enlighten, speak, encourage, convict, and inspire! And best of all, God did all the things that I could never do. This is how lives are changed - not by our own methods, trends, statement songs or pragmatic routines - but by being in His Holy presence. If you’re a worship leader, a singer or musician - create the space, the capacity, the room that will allow the Holy Spirit to breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This article also posted on <a href="http://southerngospeltimes.com/FeatureItem.aspx?id=28&Cat=23" data-imported="1">Southern Gospel Times</a>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110951
2015-02-27T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:34-06:00
The Ennunciator
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<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5HkE2orMm6s" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="560" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
<p> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110950
2015-02-15T18:00:00-06:00
2022-05-21T10:18:12-05:00
No More Dry Bones
<p></p>
<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PT8Qh1ZBSVk" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="560" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/ea587abba1db155dfa189c2a724f0ceff7c04ea9/original/photo-on-2-16-15-at-2-35-pm.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjgweDE4NyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="187" width="280" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110949
2015-02-09T18:00:00-06:00
2015-02-10T02:10:57-06:00
All These Blessings
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/bf17cae8af8ca47c79bbfe7b42c37842adee53d8/original/jeremie-beach.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTAweDIxMyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="213" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="500" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">All these blessings include:</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">the smell of children who rarely bathe</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">tired feet</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">cold showers</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">rice & beans everyday</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">a marathon of hugs</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">a sick stomach</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">a broken heart</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">and a life that is changed...forever.</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110947
2015-01-22T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:30-06:00
We. Are. Glad.
<p>"Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing. Then they said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them." The LORD has done great things for us, and we are glad. - Psalm 126:2-3</p>
<p>Laughter and singing. It's just a few of the ways that God does great things. This is my mission to the world. I'm not a theologian but I believe I have a degree in the Ministry of Laughter & Singing, creating a sacred stop of fun so desperately needed in our churches and within the leadership of women's events worldwide. ..Setting the atmosphere so ALL women, no matter their learning or listening curve, will hear.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Join me on this WE. ARE. GLAD. journey for 2015 & 2016!</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/b3d25d328749809dc62e318067d676f2853c6a74/original/img-9200.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzA4eDM1MiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="352" width="308" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110948
2015-01-12T18:00:00-06:00
2021-08-06T16:21:34-05:00
My Brother-In-Love
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/susanleeduffield/posts/10204177657902804:0" data-imported="1">Post</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/susanleeduffield" data-imported="1">Sue Duffield</a>.</div>
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<div class="fb-xfbml-parse-ignore">Our dear Wayne is struggling tonight in ICU in Christiana Hospital in Delaware. Such a difficult day for him and for all of us. We are praying for comfort as he transitions from this life all the way into the arms of Jesus. Thank you, Wayne, for teaching me all about unconditional and unselfish love. </div>
</div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110946
2014-12-23T18:00:00-06:00
2022-05-21T10:18:39-05:00
The Word of Remembrance
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ojrf5v0nYqY/VJr5SQSQWeI/AAAAAAAABks/NMJvQ-lpTEA/s1600/IMG_1171.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ojrf5v0nYqY/VJr5SQSQWeI/AAAAAAAABks/NMJvQ-lpTEA/s1600/IMG_1171.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">It's not been an easy road for Jeff's dad this year. Lots of extreme changes, lots of adjustments and surely lots of physical and emotional struggles. But the picture of the year for our family is right here. I secretly took this picture, hoping just to keep it as a reminder for our family. But then I thought of you today. You just might need the encouragement today too.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">The difficulties and hardships seem to dissipate and disappear when a word of "remembrance" is given. It was of utmost importance for Jeff to remind his dad of the good times, the sacrifices, the hard work, the joys. the gifts, and the laughter. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">I do believe that this was as much of a healing for Jeff as it was for Pop Geo. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">That's what gift words of remembrance do: </div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>They heal. </em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>They reinforce good feelings; </em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>They are never forgotten.</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">So pass along a word gift today to your family and friends. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">Make it a tradition. In fact, make it a common practice everyday.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;"></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"With each of you we were like a father with his child, holding your hand, whispering encouragement, showing you step-by-step how to live well before God, who called us into his own kingdom, into this delightful life."</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Thessalonians+2%3A10&version=MSG" data-imported="1">Be sure to read the entire passage 1 Thessalonians 2:9-12</a></em></div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110945
2014-11-14T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:27-06:00
"Christmas Praise" on SoundCloud
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Enjoy the Duffield's radio single for this Christmas season, "Christmas Praise", written and sung by Sue, produced by Jeff Duffield. Be sure to order you complete copy of this festive and inspirational instrumental album at <a href="/store" data-imported="1" data-link-type="page">Sue's Store</a>.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"></p>
<p><iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/226637482&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110944
2014-11-09T18:00:00-06:00
2022-05-21T10:19:04-05:00
This Is How I Know
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">
<p>I was so in the moment cooking & having Sunday dinner w/my fam & Jeremy that I never took pictures. This is how you know.. <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/putyourphoneaway?src=hash" data-imported="1">#putyourphoneaway</a></p>
— Sue Duffield (@SueDuffield) <a href="https://twitter.com/SueDuffield/status/531809241556717568" data-imported="1">November 10, 2014</a>
</blockquote>
<script charset="utf-8" type="text/javascript" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">
<br>It's pretty sad when kids have to remind their own parents that they're on their smart phones way too much. I see it all the time. It's the "forty-to-sixty-somethings" that, for whatever reason, seem to be even more addicted to social media than their offspring. I'm not going to get all personal and preachy here, but I too have been guilty of not being in the moment, wasting away precious REAL face time with my family, instead of actually being present. My body is there, but my mind - somewhere far away..</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">An amazing phenomena happened yesterday though. I was completely caught up in the process of cooking, preparing and jumping around the kitchen like a little girl, that I totally had no recollection (or care) as to where my iPhone was. In fact, I never once thought about it. Sunday dinner. At home. With my family. Rare.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">The pot roast with golden potatoes, organic carrots and a side of garlic asparagus was the feature, but it surely wasn't the focus. It was a true Sunday dinner with laughter, good conversation, barking dogs, the NFL in the background along with jazz music on the boom box. It was complete with my husband, my kids and one exceptional guest - Jeremy - that made the day worthy of no social media bragging rights. Just a day to be... present.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">Take the time to detox from your phone. It's really a healing remedy. And what I pray for you most of all is: I hope it happens so naturally that you forget to make it a all about a photo shoot.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">I never regret being so caught up in a sacred space that I forget to take a picture. I have a photo-graphic memory going on right now in my head and heart. And to quote Andy DuFresne (from the movie Shawshank Redemption), talking about the beauty of music without having anything to play it on. He had to go purely by memory:</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">"That's the beauty of music. They can't get that from you... Haven't you ever felt that way about music?"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">"It's all in here.." (pointing to his head and heart)</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">Stay in the moment. Turn off the stuff that keeps you from being present... with the people you love most.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">"It's all in here.." (pointing to My head and heart)</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">And if they were really "smart" phones, there'd be an app alarm that would say, "Get off it. You're with the people you love!"</blockquote>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" lang="en">This is how you'll know.</blockquote>
<script charset="utf-8" type="text/javascript" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110943
2014-10-08T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:25-06:00
Leave It Alone 'Til Next Year
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B_dnM9MSnrM/VDbREhJj0kI/AAAAAAAABiw/8coofJjHEe0/s1600/1122-LaughingLouie2.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B_dnM9MSnrM/VDbREhJj0kI/AAAAAAAABiw/8coofJjHEe0/s1600/1122-LaughingLouie2.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="320" width="244" /></a></div>
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<p>Six huge Bradford Pear trees adorn and surround the pool in the backyard. It is very appealing in the summer, providing shade from the hot sun. It looks so beautiful with the contrast of hunter green leaves against the aqua blue sky and water. But what's ahead for us is the constant undertaking of keeping the barrage of leaves <strong>out </strong>of the pool. I guess I should buy a pool cover and be done with it. But then I wouldn't be able to see the pretty water all year! Whatever..<br> <br> Last season's clean up got way ahead of us and it literally took all summer to get the pool in perfect condition. Holistically speaking, it would have been better just to drain the entire pool and start all over again. Every day that we were home was consumed in cleaning, clearing out the filter, buying PH balance products, shock and treat. Over and over again. Finally about Labor Day, we were ready for the plunge. Guess how many times I actually got <strong>IN</strong> the pool? Three times. That comes out to be about $500 a plunge, I figure. For that amount of money, I could just join the country club pool in town... And they can worry about those laughing leaves.<br> <br> God's beautiful handiwork of autumn's arrival - the gold, the red, the yellow, the burgundy - couldn't possibly be a menace, but it is. When the colors fall, there's a mess to contend with. As glorious as my backyard is, I know there's work to be done.<br> <br> And if nothing more, it's just for a season. For when the beauty falls, the opening on the branch where the leaf fell from the tree, seals up - to prepare for the next season of green. The beauty of growth and prosperity is in a holding pattern only for a little while. We might be sad to see the naked bare Bradford Pear trees, but again we'll be happy when we see the new shoots push their way through next spring. I think..<br> <br> So where are this season's leaves we "oooh-ed and ahhh-ed" over? Some are in a pile in the backyard, while others have been hauled off kicking and screaming by the city maintenance truck. But the more ornery of the bunch stare at me from the bottom of the pool, just laughing, pointing and carrying on, saying, "You can't get me now! I'll be waiting for you when it gets warm! And then we'll be all brown and slimy." Scoundrels.</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110942
2014-08-19T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:23-06:00
Never Too Late For The Real Party
<p style="text-align: left;">I'm psychologically late to this party called The National Quartet Convention and Southern Gospel Music Industry. I go each year to Louisville kicking and screaming with my husband (this year it's in Pigeon Forge). I go mainly to see the people; to chuckle about hair styles, towering banners, buses they can't afford, and circus-like booths on the midway of trinkets. I LOVE these people though. I adore them, even in their quirkiness. (I probably wrote the book on quirky, but whatever).</p>
<p>I'm less of a fan of the whole stereo-typed music industry thingy. Yet, Jeff and I grow more each day in creating engaging friendships with the people we love so much. And now living in Nashville, not a day goes by that we aren't stirred by their influence, their human discourse, their ache for bookings, their financial turmoil, their strive to live, write and dream. I watch. I observe their huge hearts for survival in this fickle-demanding "entertain me" church world.</p>
<p>Jeff and I look like latecomers, or maybe we're actually retro newcomers to this party. Not sure. We were way too early to that crazy party back in the 70s. Our music was probably a bit too hip for the room. Singing with Sammy Hall and then later turning down offers to play and sing for other musicians' dreams, we decide to write and create our own space. From the inside world of this progressive gospel inspirational music bandwagon, Jeff is an influence. Me? Maybe not so much. But my prayer is: "God, help me to inspire others. Help me to encourage, build up and edify other musicians." That's what I love to do.</p>
<p>Holy Spirit-filled musicians and songwriters need to think and dream bigger, beyond their expected audience criteria or cultural demands. I ask God to "open doors", and He does. I ask God to open my ears, and He does. I even ask God to blow my socks off and knock me off my feet. And He does. And He did. Last night. Set your musical preferences aside for six minutes.</p>
<p>Meet new friends, The Wilbanks. This is another level. This is anointed Holy Spirit infused music, in my own opinion. It transcends genre, gets beyond the brick wall barren land and brings together the vast separation between the stage and seats. Musicianship. They've been around for years. I hadn't heard them until last night in Pigeon Forge at Patterson Productions Homecoming.<strong> </strong>I love when I'm speechless, moved to tears and forced to experience worship music that not only feeds my soul, but feeds my insatiable palette as a musician starved for musical worship experience. </p>
<p>And the best part of this particular Wilbanks video? Besides the fact that they aren't "young", it's the shock, awe and utter hush of the NQC center stage audience that are blown away. Pockets of praise and adoration went on for several minutes, even after the video is over. How incredible, that the very venue, which has had its preferences, its buy-out, its struggling narrow ways - now becomes a sanctuary. Music, filled with God's anointing does this. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="350" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/f0zlsE02Cjc" width="425" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110941
2014-06-25T19:00:00-05:00
2022-05-21T10:19:22-05:00
She's On The Dance Floor Now
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pyipy8fvdrE/U6xa03LJ8MI/AAAAAAAABiE/BhZHONh52sY/s1600/IMG_0592.JPG" data-imported="1"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Pyipy8fvdrE/U6xa03LJ8MI/AAAAAAAABiE/BhZHONh52sY/s1600/IMG_0592.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> There's rejoicing all over heaven and I don't doubt that it's quite loud up there. My fiery and peppery friend, Phyllis Brandt, took a final two-step over onto the ultimate dance floor of heaven. I will surely miss my perky and feisty friend, that's for sure.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The picture above was taken several years ago when we celebrated Phyllis' 80th birthday. From left to right is my friend Amy, then my mother, Naomi; seated next is Opal, then me, then Donna (Phyllis' daughter) and of course, Phyllis. That was a special day of celebration for my dear friend, although I remember it being quite a challenge to get Phyllis to agree on some sort of party. I am grateful that Donna was persistent. Later, there's no doubt, Phyllis loved every minute of the lavish attention.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Phyllis was nothing like my own mother. My mother tried to be a bit more refined, a tad shy at times and always tried to be dignified and cultured. Phyllis, on the other hand, was more brash and bold, extremely loyal, but always speaking whatever was on her mind with that true South Philadelphia flare. Donna and I would laugh because we wondered whose mother was who's?? Phyllis could surely have been <em>my</em> mother, that's for sure. And Donna? Well, there's no doubt, with her dignity and decorum, she should have been Naomi's daughter.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> In while it's so hard to say good-bye, the memories of those little visits inspire me today. I can almost hear her saying, "OH, I'm fine. You know, Alan and Donna take good care of me." And indeed they do.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> She adored her children, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She especially loved Pie, her cat. Pie finally comes out to greet me on my last visit with her. This is rare. Phyllis says Pie is afraid of most people. I bend down to pet Pie and Phyllis says, "You must be something special 'cause she don't come out for nobody."</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> "No, whatever the special vibe I'm exuding to Pie comes from the fact that I'm probably as loud and brash as you, Phyllis, so she's used to that."</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Thank you, my friend, for letting me love you and your bouncy bubbly self. No one will ever replace you in my heart. Dance on, my sister. Dance on.</div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110940
2014-06-09T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:21-06:00
Wayne
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<p>My special needs brother-in-love is making a major transition in his life. Wayne will be moving into a group home in Maryland. And he couldn't be happier! He loves his work and he loves his friends at Bayside. Over the years, Wayne has been extremely loyal to his dad, but through recent health issues, George can no longer be his 24/7 caregiver. While we as a family have worried and labored over how to tell Wayne this news, the irony is - Wayne has expressed his excitement about his new life and his new room! It's like he's that teenager heading to college! Who knew.</p>
<p>Wayne entered my world in 1968 and we have been buddies ever since. He'll say, and I quote, "You're my favorite sister-in-law, Sue..". (I'm his ONLY SIL!) He may be handi-capped in description but he has a sense of humor. Wayne does not suffer a handi-cap in his heart.</p>
<p>How fun it would be for Wayne to receive cards and pictures from his extended family, friends and even new friends. If you'd like to send a card, include a picture of you or your family with the names on the back of the picture, and send it to:</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Wayne Duffield</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">c/o Susan Kuff</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">25 Townsend Ave</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Bridgeton, NJ 08302</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110939
2014-06-04T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:20-06:00
This Tree
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<p style="text-align: left;">The other side of this tree looks pretty healthy. You would never know that this dangerously hollowed-out oak fortress is suffering by viewing it from the opposite side. I pass it everyday when walking the park. I've never seen this angle or view before. Why? Because today I reverse my walk. Instead of walking north to south, I'm walking south to north. I'm not sure why I change direction, but I do.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">My eyes start to water as if I'm some sort of tree hugger in anguish. This towering specimen must be one hundred years old or more. It's leaning severely, its bark is dry and gray, and there's an oozing black substance in the hollow of its core. From the other side though the tree looks vibrant - green leaves growing, branches looking healthy, the ground showing no evidence of insects, fungus or cracked or raised soil. My guess is because of its root system, this tree is somehow still surviving. I put my hand inside the deep cavity and I see that the trunk is in worse shape than I thought. There's very little left around the core. This tree is living a dying life.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">There's a bench near by so I sit and just stare at it. I hear birds fluttering around. I even see a nest of scattered twigs and string with baby blue eggs, nestled low among sprigs of new branches.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">This tree is really trying. This tree is really holding on for dear life even while it's holding on to the life of the bird's nest. We don't know this tree's struggle unless we take a close examination of its core.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">An aborist is needed; a tree expert or someone who knows what to do. The entire tree can break or split if there are cavities or cracks in its trunk. However, the presence of a cavity does not necessarily mean the tree needs to be removed.<em> (I learned this when I had a tree guy come and examine one of my trees in Delaware years ago.)</em> Removal depends on how extensive the cavity is, where the tree is growing and the overall state of the tree's health. A resistograph <em>(an instrument that detects decay and cavities in trees)</em> is valuable here because it can measure the depth of the hollow. Using those results, an arborist uses a mathematical formula to determine if there is enough trunk thickness to <strong>keep the tree upright</strong>.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">Keep the tree upright? No matter if it's dying, leaning and suffering, keep the tree upright? Why does this bother me? Why am I emotional over any of this? It's just a tree, for heaven's sake. Yes, all this is flooding my mind.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">Maybe it's because I know personally that the only way I remain upright, is that I have access to THE spiritual resistograph.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">The psalmist David knows all about all this. He says,<em> "God, investigate my life; get all the facts firsthand. I’m an open book to you; even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking. You know when I leave and when I get back; I’m never out of your sight. You know everything I’m going to say before I start the first sentence. I look behind me and you’re there, then up ahead and you’re there, too— your reassuring presence, coming and going..."</em> (Psalm 139:1-6 The Message)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">David cries out for the hand of the spiritual resistograph, the God who knows him inside and out, to do His diagnosis. God shaped him first inside, then outside, and formed him inside his mother's womb. (vs. 13) God knows David. Inside and out. And God knows you, inside and out. <em>"You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something."</em> (vs. 14)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">The day you and I turn our hollowed-out core and lean in and over to the one with the hollow in His hand, is the day we both become upright. No matter what.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em>"Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?"</em> (Isaiah 40:12)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><br>Who is <strong>He</strong>? This tree knows. He's the one with the spiritual resistograph.</p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110938
2014-05-28T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:19-06:00
You Speak Christianese or Christian-ease?
<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8czrQWS4sd8/TUdWr66rZwI/AAAAAAAAAdc/0Bjn8Twa8oI/s1600/Megaphone-Woman-with.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8czrQWS4sd8/TUdWr66rZwI/AAAAAAAAAdc/0Bjn8Twa8oI/s320/Megaphone-Woman-with.jpg" class="size_orig justify_left border_" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568514776816641794" style="cursor: pointer; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 225px;" /></a><br> Many friends I grew up with back in the 70s weren’t “churched.” They weren’t privy to all the religious sounding talk that was so common in my world back then. Once I brought a friend to a Sunday service; she became confused when I addressed everyone as “Brother Smith” or “Sister Jones.” After the introductions, she pulled me aside and said, “Sue, I know it’s a small church, but are you related to everybody here?”<br> <br> During the nostalgic days of flannelgraph Bible stories and chalkboard dust, we would play some great little games like “Bible Baseball” and “Sword Drill.” One little girl’s first encounter with Sunday School and hearing “Sword Drill” caused her to say out loud, “Oh no, my mom will never let me play with anything sharp. I cut off my hair with scissors last week and I’m still grounded.” (Just in case you’re un-churched or too young, “Sword Drill” was a Bible quick-response verse search game where— with Bibles in hand—we’d flip though pages and race to find the chapter and verse the teacher announced. The winner was the first one to stand and read it aloud).<br> <br> A new young Christian raised on the streets asked his pastor if he could participate in the Communion service. The young man begged to say something prior to the elements being distributed to the congregation. Apprehensively, the pastor slowly handed the Communion cup to the young man. In his exuberance and joy over his new walk with Christ, the young man lifted the chalice and shouted, “You see this cup? This blood’s for you!” Then he raised both hands high, pointed to the ceiling and yelled, “You’re the M-A-N!”<br> <br> When my Jewish friend Mike went to a concert at a Pentecostal church, it was his very first time to be present in an atmosphere of exuberant praise and worship. When the music started and people began raising their hands, Mike couldn’t figure out why so many people had questions about the concert that night. He asked us, “They just kept raising their hands, obviously having questions or comments about the music. Why didn’t anyone acknowledge them?”<br> <br> Years ago, I would not have been as prepared as I am today for opportunities to speak at secular or “outside the church walls” events. To assume that everyone will understand or comprehend Christianese is a real mistake. Today I am challenged and held accountable to keep from getting caught up in the rhetoric of dated language and religious expression. If I say I am saved, for example, some will inquire, “Saved from what?” <br> <br> <span style="font-weight:bold">Letting go of Christianese and sharing more with Christian–ease:</span><br> 1. The proliferation of the spiritual attitude that “I’ve always said it this way” is a real guarantee you’ll be ineffective. It’s nothing more than a habit. Be willing to examine what and how you communicate about Christ.<br> <br> 2. Words like redeemed, saved, sanctified, and blessed are incredibly endearing and meaningful to you and me, but to the new un-churched generation, our words may be perceived much like the droning teacher on the Charlie Brown cartoon series: “Wah, wah, wah, wah, wah.” The key is to practice effective communication rather than assuming someone will understand. Speak words that will draw them in—connecting words that create a desire for more of God’s Word (which is the ultimate goal) rather than push them away. <br> <br> 3. Jesus, the Master of communication, told parables using secular examples from His own society and culture to convey more clearly to His listeners. Some heard it; some did not. Some “got it” and were radically changed. Others walked away. Jesus is the example we need to emulate in our communication with others.<br> <br> <em>“The Message is as true among you today as when you first heard it. It doesn’t diminish or weaken over time. It’s the same all over the world. The Message bears fruit and gets larger and stronger, just as it has in you. From the very first day you heard and recognized the truth of what God is doing, you’ve been hungry for more”</em> (Colossians 1:5,6, The Message).<br> </p>
<p>(This post was originally released on Jan. 2011 at <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2011/01/you-speak-christianeze-or-christian.html" data-imported="1">Sue-biquitous</a>, receiving over 10,000 hits. Obviously, a very touchy subject..)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110937
2014-05-08T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:17-06:00
Random Mother's Day Sentiments
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<p>I took a shot at trying out something today... Every woman I come in contact with, while stopping at the North East Extension PA turnpike rest areas (for potty breaks!), I say, "Happy Mother's Day". It's been pretty funny to watch and hear the reactions. So far, here is my log of what's happened so far:<br> <br> 1. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (woman) "You talkin' to me? OH, I guess you are! (laughs) Well, thank you then; I'm kinda sick.."<br> <br> 2. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (woman) "Wow, that sure is nice. Thank you! My kids don't live around here, so thanks anyway!"<br> <br> 3. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (woman) "I don't have kids. (me) "That's OK. (woman) "But I do have ovaries, so I guess there's hope, right??" (me - laughing!) "Yes! There's always hope!" (woman) "I just have to find the right testicles." (yes she said that!)<br> <br> 4. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (man) "You're kidding, right?"<br> (I just wanted to see what a man would say!)<br> <br> 5. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (woman) "Thanks! But it's not til Sunday, right? But how nice of you? Are you a reporter or something?" (tee-hee!)<br> <br> 6. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (woman, with her adult child in a wheelchair, who can't speak or walk) "Thank you, it's the best. And my girl is the best!" (me) "Yes, she is. Can I hug her?" (woman) "Yes, but be careful, she might not let go!!" (me - I hug her, and it takes a few minutes for me to pry myself away.) "She's got a great momma. Thanks for being the best example yet of being a super mom." (woman) "Hey, we do what we gotta do.. love our kids no matter what."<br> <br> 7. (me) "Happy Mother's Day"<br> (woman, glaring at me like I just cursed at her) "Really?? What, are you selling something?"<br> <br> So once again, I'm never disappointed when interviewing people. From all walks of life, these women (and man!) bring the surprise factor into full view. And most, I would say, show their true colors in less than a second. Happy Mother's Day weekend to all of you. I miss my mom so much. So much I do. But I'm so glad that my two kids give me hope that somewhere along the line, I did something right. And if you never had kids, whether by your choice or not, you are no less of a woman. In fact, in some arenas, you're a lot smarter than all of us are!<br> <br> But the best part of celebrating a Mother's Day weekend, is remembering that we are women with great potential to change the world. Let's do this. Take a child, whether you're genetically attached or not, and pour love into them. Out of your pain or hardship or loss, wrap your arms around a child or teenager or an adult "baby", and lavish them with hope for their future.<br> <br> As my mother used to say, "Mother's Day is a lot like Father's Day, except the presents are a LOT more expensive!" :)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110936
2014-04-20T19:00:00-05:00
2022-05-21T10:19:46-05:00
Back To Fishin'?
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<p>I didn't make it to church yesterday. In fact, I barely made it out of bed these last few days. I'm sick with allergy-type symptoms that make me even sicker to type out. But I am relieved I thought ahead: I bought a Honey-Baked Ham, au gratin potatoes, and made a pound cake and sweet potato salad earlier in the week. I was, I guess, preparing that I wouldn't be any better by Easter Sunday, and I was correct. The few hours I had with my family around the table was great, but it wasn't too long that I just hit the couch and never moved until it was bed time (again). I did have a burst of energy to clean up the kitchen in the aftermath of the ham celebration, but that didn't last too long either. It was then I started to think, "What happens AFTER Easter?" (And I know that I shouldn't, but I pop a yellow Peep into my mouth, and shout "HE IS RISEN!", but it sounds more like "HEESH IS RISBSESN!")</p>
<p>How do we go from easter-egg hunting and Reeses Peanut Butter Egg-eatin to the everyday reality of the resurrection of Christ? And how does this affect the rest of our days after - with Him?</p>
<p>Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.<br>John 21:2-3</p>
<p>Nothing strange about this, right? I mean, most people who have just celebrated Easter, get right back to doing the normal things they've always done, right? True. But what really startles me in this passage is THIS is what happened after the VERY FIRST EASTER, literally hours after the Resurrection, after the events of the first day of the week! The men who actually witnessed it all, decide to go back to business as usual. Ugh.</p>
<p>They decide to go fishing right after Mary comes running to them with the news that she just saw the risen Lord. It was also after Jesus came to them in their apartment. It was after Thomas was told to touch the wounds in Jesus’ hands, feet, and side. Sit on that for a minute...</p>
<p>I guess I could understand it if they hadn't known about the resurrection. But at this point, trust me - they were well acquainted with the risen Lord. <strong>Why did they go back to the same old routine?</strong> Especially since fishing (and not being really good at it) is what they did before they had even met Jesus.</p>
<p>As I load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher I say to myself, "Where am I today? Am I stuck doing the same old stuff I've always done?" I mean, I'm thinking - these were men who actually witnessed the Divine; saw Him, touched Him, ate with Him, cried with Him, yet they go back to doing what they've always done. Is there ANY hope for me?</p>
<p>Something clicks. The disciples have another encounter with the risen Lord. This time He breaks into their everyday world and turns it upside down. They realize that they can't even go fishing without the help of the Lord. Jesus, now, the Risen Lord, says something that will forever change how we view life on the other side of the cross. He says to Peter, <strong>“Feed My sheep.”</strong> </p>
<p>Everything changes. Peter knows there's no going back. He'll never be able to "fish" in the same way again.</p>
<p>So, while many will storm Wal-Mart today to get left-over half-priced Easter Candy, I ask you this question: Is it back to normal again, just doing what you've always done? Or are you so greatly affected by your Risen Lord, that you're ready and willing to "Feed His Sheep?" I hope so. And it isn't just feeding the sheep fish. (Do sheep even eat fish? LOL!) It's feeding His sheep the truth of His resurrection. This gives me hope... and that's not just on Easter Sunday.</p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110935
2014-04-02T19:00:00-05:00
2022-05-21T10:22:23-05:00
Text And See, That The Lord Is Good!
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<p><br> I sent a text to Jeff today that said, "I'm at Planet Firmness...". Firmness. Yes, that's what auto-correct defaulted to. (I'm believing for this to be a prophetic word!) Of course, I laugh.<br> <br> "Planet Fitness", which is what I wish to type, also has shown up on my phone (when I'm typing frivolously) as "Planter Bitterness", "Plant Fastener", "Plane Finesse", and "Plantar Fasciitis." Yes, all of these. Ironically, the recipients of these messages totally understand me and know the location, without question. And there's no doubt, they chuckle, as do I! <br> <br> Sometimes I feel both TOO OLD AND TOO YOUNG for this technological journey I face every day. It kind of goes hand in hand with the ministry God puts before me. Staying both relevant to this generation as well as never loosening my grip from my retro foundational teaching, pretty much throws me into the perpetual motion of noise. Who do we listen to? Who is qualified? Me? And who are the voices of truth? Am I a voice of truth? (Much like me texting, "I'm at Planet Firmness...", I'm literally not "there", but you assume so because it looks pretty close to what I intended to type.)<br> <br> Understanding Jeremiah, the prophet, and his calling is crucial to not just understanding the whole of the book of Jeremiah going forward, but our own personal calling and ministry for the kingdom of God. Jeremiah undertakes the battle for God’s Word at a time when almost no one wants to hear it, when those in authority don’t want to recognize it, and when the majority of so-called spiritual leaders are making money and fame counterfeiting and twisting it. Ugh.. (Sound familiar?) He is one of the handful of true prophets among thousands of false ones. In our present day, Jeremiah is the closest parallel to the things we currently face.<br> <br> I especially love Jeremiah 1:5 (The Message) <em>“Before I shaped you in the womb, I knew all about you. Before you saw the light of day, I had holy plans for you: A prophet to the nations—that’s what I had in mind for you.” </em><br> <br> There are four very distinct actions in this little verse:</p>
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<li>If God is texting you today, He doesn't say, "I framed you". He says - “I formed you.” – We are equipped for His purpose.</li>
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<li>God isn't texting, “I knock you”. He's saying, "I know you." – We are individually called for His purpose.</li>
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<li>God didn't mis-text you by saying, “I confiscated you.” He says "I consecrated you." – We are separated from the world’s ways for His purpose.</li>
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<li>And one more, God would never text, "I have appalled you." He very distinctly says, “I have appointed you” – We are specifically called for His purpose.</li>
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<div>Wouldn't it be great to set your mind on God's auto-correct? You know, the days that come when you feel so unqualified or insignificant, that you can't speak (or text) with purpose or significance? God takes our feeble, filthy words and has made the auto-correction through the cross. The single greatest auto-correct happened when Satan was defeated and Jesus gave His life for us! </div>
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<div>Praise God for His handiwork which improves your life-text, correcting grammar, spelling, Word choice and style with unmatched Holy Spirit accuracy! </div>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110934
2014-02-17T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:13-06:00
Night Fever
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<p>A good night's sleep, without interruption, is a great treasure. At least it is for me. So while I was sound asleep (finally) the other night, I awoke to something biting my finger. In a drowsy stupor, I pushed this something off my skin. Then a few minutes later, an itchy streak grazed my elbow. I went back to sleep and didn't think about it. Until...</p>
<p>The next morning, my finger is red, swollen and burning. So is my elbow. It's on fire! What in the world? Maybe a spider? Ugh. Just the thought of that creeps me out. Even worse, a flea? Or two fleas?? Or a bed bug? Yikes. I don't know. I ingest some ®Benedryl and put some ®Neosporin on the area. But even in the light of the morning, there is no evidence of what did this to me other than the welts on my skin and an elevated temperature. Something was lurking, but I see nothing.</p>
<p>Whatever this crawling thing is, it positions itself in the night and knows exactly when I'm most vulnerable. My nerve endings are aware during the daylight hours, and they're much too quick and responsive to something inching on my outer covering. Come to think of it, I fried a mosquito once during a hot flash. I actually heard it go "zzzzzttttt" and drop to the ground when it tried to penetrate the skin on my arm! So, I KNOW when something is creeping on me.</p>
<p>But "in the night season" or during times when we're not paying attention, a little bite of something awful can make its way into our space. And the worst part is, it happens so quickly. We don't even know the outcome... until morning. Or until it's too late. </p>
<p>The U.S. troops in countries like Iraq and Afghanistan are worried about some new evidence. It appears that the enemy makes every effort to steal night vision gear. Military troops say there's no greater advantage for defeating or cheating on the enemy - than being able to see in the dark. </p>
<p>Any of you, like me, really need the "night vision" advantage when it comes to dealing with spiritual warfare over your kids, your teens, your aging parents, your job, your health - especially when the situation looks way too dark to handle? </p>
<p>"But I’ll take the hand of those who don’t know the way, who can’t see where they’re going. I’ll be a personal guide to them,<br>directing them through unknown country. I’ll be right there to show them what roads to take, make sure they don’t fall into the ditch.<br>These are the things I’ll be doing for them—sticking with them, not leaving them for a minute.” (Isaiah 42:16 The Message)</p>
<p>So it's pretty safe to say, you can hold the hand of the One who knows exactly the way you should go. Especially at night. And if you metaphorically fall asleep during difficult and dark times, I'd consider investing in some spiritual night vision goggles. Write on index cards the verses of scripture that will sharpen your skills. Be aware of the schemes and signals of the dark side. The enemy wants to steal your night vision defense mechanism. Because without it, you have no advantage. </p>
<p>Later, as a secondary precaution, I lather on ®Off Bug Repellent. That along with hot flashes should combust and throw out a singeing signal to "back off!" :)</p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110933
2014-02-10T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:11-06:00
Does God Care?
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<p>Of course, God cares. I've known that for years. But until I totally understand that He most definitely cares about everything, I might as well just live like He cares about nothing. </p>
<p>I dragged Jeff in and out of department stores the last few days, trying to find THE coat. A coat for me, that is. I know it's the end of the season, but it's a great way to find a deal too. My old one is leaking duck down everywhere! I so want a black, full length down coat with a hood. The last one I bought was at Sear's back in 2000. And I got that one for about $23. A great bargain. A great deal. And this time (again), I'm on a hunt. An intense shopping journey. A mission of finding this coat.</p>
<p>How many stores do you think I've been to in the last three days? Oh, let's just say, hmm, probably at least ten. Macy's, JCPenney, Burlington Coat Factory, Nordstrom,Marshall's, TJMaxx, Dick's Sporting Goods, Target, Walmart, Peebles, Goodwill and Macy's again. I bet I tried on a hundred coats. Of course all the size 0's are available. I need an XL. Large and XL sizes are the first to go, I'm told. An arsenal of mediums abound. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.</p>
<p>"So, what exactly are you looking for, Sue?" I don't want a wool coat. (I start to get spiritual here) I want a l-o-n-g winter down coat. And I know I should have bought one earlier in the season, but who has the $$$ to buy a full length down coat at regular retail? Not me.</p>
<p>So, I'm on a desperate mission. Jeff laughs, but he also knows when I get this twinkle and determination in my eyes (he's seen it before!), that something miraculous is going to happen. And. It. Did.</p>
<p>During my last stop of the night last night, walking around Christiana Mall in DE, something inside of me said, "Go to Macy's again." In the past, I would ignore that little voice. But I don't ignore it anymore. I go upstairs to the marked down section of coats, where I was the very day before. A sweet woman stares at me behind the counter, after I ask, "Any full length down coats?"</p>
<p>I expected her to laugh out loud. I got the response I wasn't anticipating. I was prepared for her to say with a snarl, "Are you kidding? With these 70% off prices?? We have nothing left."</p>
<p>But instead she points to my left in slow motion. And then she nods. Then she says, "I think that's your coat." (How did she know?)</p>
<p>It was indeed. A black XL London Fog, full length down coat, with a hood. Regular price: $450, marked down 70% off, plus my 15% coupon. You do the math. Jehovah Jireh! :)</p>
<p>It's a trite kind of story. It's an example of little things. But it's also an amazing spirit-walk for me, to totally depend on God for everything. And every time I wear this coat, you better believe me - I'll be sharing how God takes care of everything, if you'll let him.</p>
<p>In the mean time, we're going through challenges with Jeff's dad and some issues of water leakage in his home. We've watched in the last two days, how God has imparted great wisdom to my husband. I love watching how he takes care of his dad and his brother. I love how, like an investigative reporter, he also took care of my mom after my dad died. I watch how he takes care of his clients and his musician buddies, devoting long hours (which he doesn't always get paid) for counsel and direction.</p>
<p>But here's the kicker: You don't always have to be paid. You don't always have to be given remuneration for services rendered. In fact, we watch how God "opens doors that no man can lock, and locks doors that no man can open" (Rev. 3: 7,8) when we give out of lack and rejoice when stuff hits the fan.</p>
<p>So, thank you God for allowing me to find a coat (cheaply!) that I love so much. Jeff was patient with me, but he probably is the reason why I found this coat in the first place! I'm not surprised at how you take care of all of us.</p>
<p>SO, it's time for you to make a list. Make that little list today. How has God taken care of you? And better yet, how can YOU take care of someone else today?</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110932
2014-01-19T18:00:00-06:00
2014-01-21T01:08:50-06:00
Right Turn, Clyde!
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto0369529.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="450" width="300" /></p>
<p>In Lansing, Michigan, the state Senate gave their <a href="http://www.bnd.com/2014/01/15/3005855/new-turn-signal-for-cyclists-in.html" data-imported="1">final approval</a> to legislation giving bicyclists another way to signal a right turn. Bicyclists can now signal a right turn by extending their right arm horizontally. They've been signaling a right turn with an L position by extending their LEFT arm upward, a signal in effect since shortly after World War II. Yes, for cycling purists, you already know this. But generally, the driving public has no clue. Some will wave back to you if you signal the old-school left hand/right turn signal. Come to think of it, (speaking of WW II), it does look rather heil-Hitler-ish!</p>
<p>The bill's sponsor, Republican Rep. Anthony Forlini of Macomb County's Harrison Township, said the bill grew out of his own personal biking experience. He says most car drivers (today) are unfamiliar with bicyclists' left-hand right turn gesture.</p>
<p>Ya think? Hmmm... SO, the gal in the picture above... Is she joyful and praising God? Or is she totally out of style wanting to make a right turn?</p>
<p>Apparently, MY own personal worship experience of late is less the "right-hand, right arm, left-hand, left arm" praise gesture and more the "deep and wide" (emphasis on the wide) kind of motion, which makes it inevitably hazardous to the persons standing on either side of me. Holding my arms above my head, for sustainable minutes doesn't work for me now. But the wide straight-armed expression, while less flattering and more confusing to the seasoned worship standard, is more like the slo-down signal of aircraft marshalling that goes on between the ground personnel and the pilot.</p>
<p>I love this new slo-mo, wing-span adoration. My mains think I'm quite flex and cray cray. (HA!) I think I'm just expressing my total-ness and complete abandon to God. It also shows off my lovely flapper cellulite, but that's another story. But don't bother me when I'm in this form. Some think I'm just working on my arm-strength and conditioning. Possibly. But don't be asking me if I'm trying to make a right or left turn. it's my updated and revised communication signal giving God permission to take me in ANY direction He wants me to go! And I surely don't need any legislation to tell me otherwise.. Definitely the "right" turn. </p>
<p>What are your best moves for God? And if you had a chance to really express yourself in worship, without any critique or ritualistic expectation, how freeing would that be? Give yourself permission to throw out all apprehension and take a "turn" at lifting your body, soul and spirit to the One who has set you free. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto7997385.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="200" width="300" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Malachi+1:11&version=MSG" data-imported="1">Malachi 1:11</a></strong></p>
<div>“I am honored all over the world. And there are people who know <strong>how</strong> <strong>to</strong> <strong>worship</strong> me all over the world, who honor me by bringing their best to me. They’re saying it everywhere: ‘God is greater, this <span class="small-caps">God</span>-of-the-Angel-Armies.’</div>
<p> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110931
2013-12-26T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:37:08-06:00
Haiti December 2013
<p></p>
<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7ymmSMcgtDI" width="560" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
<p>There will always be the question in my mind, "Did I experience every single second to its fullest? Did I take advantage of every hug and every kiss? Was I fully present during every waking moment?" I don't know the answer to any of that, because it felt like a dream. All I know is: I felt God's presence stronger in this impoverished place, more than any other place in the world. The children will teach you much. There were fun moments; hilarious moments. But there were also moments when you didn't think you could ever take another deep breath again. I am grateful for the privilege to share my life with the children of Jeremie. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/1eb4516311c19f07475d0c2eb61367f52a15c4c6/original/img-8098.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzQ4eDM0OCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="348" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="348" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110930
2013-11-29T18:00:00-06:00
2013-11-30T07:47:39-06:00
Stand-Up Jesus
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/JesusLaughed_0003.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="320" width="320" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">We all know the physical benefits of laughter, but have we totally understood the spiritual health of the believer who laughs? Probably not.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">After interviewing twenty young people online, both professing Christians and not, the following statements may surprise you. And if they do get to you in some way, I hope you'll do something to change what they think. I know I am. Ironically, I may offend some Christians along the way, purely because I wish to do as Jesus did - and stir up the pot! Jesus rarely struggled with unbelievers. His REAL problems began with those who were skilled in scriptures, the ones who lived by the law.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">So, here you go! Here are answers from a recent group email I sent out to twenty-somethings and beyond. My question was..</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong>"If you could change one thing about church and church people, what would that be?</strong></p>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li style="font-weight: bold;">I would make it more fun. Most times I leave church feeling bad about myself.</li>
<li style="font-weight: bold;">I love the music, but it's not nearly as upbeat and joyful as it can be.</li>
<li style="font-weight: bold;">My pastor has an issue with fun for some reason. I think he thinks it's a sin.</li>
<li style="font-weight: bold;">I don't go to church anymore because they try to be something they're not.</li>
<li style="font-weight: bold;">My dad laughs a lot at home, but when he gets to church, he gets all weird and everything. I think more young people would go to church if they didn't act all pious and stuff...</li>
<li><strong>I wouldn't change one thing about my church. We laugh a lot, we cry a lot, we sing a lot, and my pastor is down to earth.</strong></li>
<li><strong>We could maybe pattern our churches after coffee shops; people go there to drink coffee, hang out and connect with each other. Much more relaxed and much more laughter is needed in church.</strong></li>
<li><strong>Church isn't a priority for me. Is that what you wanted to hear? Sorry if it's not. It's just too guilt-producing.</strong></li>
<li><strong>I would surely make the services more light-hearted and more interactive. My friends would never go to a church that wasn't like that. Neither would I.</strong></li>
<li><strong>Since most people my age have a weird slant on what church means, I think your question would be better if it asked, "If I could change one thing about ME, what would that be?" - And that would be, "To love and laugh more."</strong></li>
<li><strong>I'm not nearly as interested in being entertained as I am being engaged in worship. I am now 35 years old, and I wish I would have understood that earlier in my Christian walk.</strong></li>
<li><strong>I think laughing in church services is underestimated. Jesus laughed, I promise you. I wish churches would get a grip on that.</strong></li>
</ul>
<p style="text-align: left;"> Wow. So, there you go... Ask questions? Get answers. </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">There's a million directions and explanations from the above statements. And we could all go into some sort of analytical reasons for many of them. But for now, I hope you see (like me), the value that laughter and humor has in the connection piece of keeping us all together. For now, that's what I see. And for now, that's what I plan to do. Laugh. In Jesus' name. :)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110929
2013-11-02T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:06-06:00
Hope You Have Un-Star
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/marilynmccoo419581.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="399" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“You don’t have to be a star, baby, to be in my show...”</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis, Jr.’s number one crossover hit of the 70s, on both the Billboard Hot 100 and Hot Soul Singles, when dissected, could be possibly the best lyrical teaching tool for all Christian artists desiring notoriety. I used to listen to this song and wonder, “Does anyone REALLY get what they’re singing about?”</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">The voice of Marilyn McCoo is an inspiration to me. A velvet, soulful smoothie she is. And to know that her witness for Christ is just as real, makes me love her more. A true star, inside and out. So in lies the paradox of this song: McCoo and Davis are REAL stars, singing about how NOT to be a star. Curious.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“Baby come as you are with just your heart a</em></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>nd I’ll take you in</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>You’re rejected and hurt, </em></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>to me you’re worth what you have within...”</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">Whew. I’m emotional just reading this. Some of you 70s leftovers like me can probably sing it without even looking at the lyrics. But seriously, read them again. What do you see?</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">For the performer in us who just can’t wait to be noticed, Jesus strongly urges us to <em>come as we are</em>. He takes us in. We’re rejected, hurt, filled with jealousy, envy, and even succumbing to the comparison factor. But to HIM, we’re worth what we have within. I especially love this line because no where is it stated in this pop hit, “You’re worth what you have because of what is on the outside.” So why do we work so hard on everything exterior, yet leave our insides deplete of maturity and spiritual hunger? BTW, spiritual hunger is a good thing... If you don’t have that hunger, you need it. It’s another paradox: To lack having spiritual lack means you don’t need Jesus.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">The answer comes next.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“Now I don’t need no superstar...”</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">There it is. That’s when most of us will tune out, quit reading this post and move on. We’re enamored and impressed with everything runway, pizzaz-zy, glitzy, glossy and viral.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">“What do you mean, Jesus doesn’t need a superstar to represent Him? Isn’t that what this whole aspiration of getting known is all about, to make Jesus be lifted up? The more well-known I become, the more people know about me, the more I can do so much more for Him? Right?”</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">My pastor’s son gripped my heart this morning. He spoke, as he always does, from his heart. Open, vulnerable, forgiven. He said, “Too many of us leave church services wanting to be empowered or to be lifted up. I’m saying, let’s leave empowering Jesus, and lift HIM up.”</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p>This is a constant battle. WE want to be elevated, empowered, lifted up. I find little of that in scripture. In fact John 3:30 states, <em>“He must become greater; I must become less.” (NIV)</em></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“You won’t be denied ‘cause I’m satisfied, with the love that you can inspire..”</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">Hmmm... I “won’t be denied”. Awesome. And inspiring love brings satisfaction? “You mean you want me to just love you, and not be a star?” Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s what Christ is asking of us. Just love Him and don't be a star about it.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">Because sooner or later, </span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“Somebody nobody knows could steal the tune that you want to hear... </em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>So stop your running around ‘cause now you’ve found what was cloudy is clear...</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>There’ll be no cheering from the crowd, just two hearts beating out loud.</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>There’ll be no parades, no TV or stage</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>Only me till your dying day..”</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p>You see what I mean? Priceless precise lyrics. When I worked for WNRK Oldies Radio, I had a few listeners tell me they found Christ while listening to a secular song. Imagine that! One gal told me it was the Holy Spirit that spoke very clearly to her while listening to Peggy Lee's dismal and disparaging hit, "Is That All There Is?". She said it so gripped her about her own lack that she had to do something about it. </p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">You don’t have to be a star to be in HIS show. In fact, I'd advise you not.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“Don’t think your star has to shine for me to find out where you’re coming from..</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>What is a beauty queen if it don’t mean I’m you’re number one..”</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">Burma shave. There you go. (If I have to explain the whole "Burma Shave" meaning, well press <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burma-Shave" data-imported="1">here</a>)</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">And then the song ends, </span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“And I don’t need no superstar ‘cause I’ll accept you as you are</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>You won’t be denied ‘cause I’m satisfied with the love you can inspire.”</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><span class="Apple-style-span">Here’s my star-struck prevention check list:</span></strong></p>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span">Inspire others to love THE Superstar </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span">Be less so He can be more</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span">Create an attitude and atmosphere that never questions your motives</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span">Be more concerned what God thinks about you than what others think about you</span></li>
</ul>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>“Cause you don’t have to be a star,</em> <strong><em>baby*</em></strong>, <em>to be in my show..”</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>*ba·by (definition)</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"><em>ˈbābē/ (noun) 1. a very young child, especially newly or recent born</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"><em> (adjective) 1. comparatively small or immature of its kind.</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"><em> (verb) 1. to treat (someone) as a baby; pamper or be overprotective toward.</em></span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span">This reminder, baby, is for all of us. God knows that we are full of ourselves. We want attention, affection and we want it our way. The star qualities abound. But none of that behavior or mindset works in HIS show. You don’t have to be...that, baby.</span></p>
<p><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></p>
<p></p>
<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/uCrDcLqZ4Qk" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="560" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
<p style="text-align: center;">(song written by James Dean and James Glover/Producer Don Davis for ABC Records)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">This post was inspired while driving with my daughter in a rental car. I accidentally pressed the "OnStar" button several times, getting an operator, who very harshly said, </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">"DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!". </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110928
2013-10-29T19:00:00-05:00
2022-05-21T10:23:23-05:00
Touché Cliché (Her Best Work Yet)
<p><em><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto6050111.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="320" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></em></p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>I don’t usually talk in clichés, but in this instance, it’s quite healing. Some of you will get the gist. Others, I may lose quickly. But hang on. I just may step on some toes! This is a true story. Oh, and see if you can tell me how many clichés I’m using! :)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">I’m not gonna beat around the bush. A little bird told me I may have pushed the proverbial envelope a little too far. The egg on my face is not all it’s cracked up to be, but none-the-less, there’s not enough room to swing a cat in this over-the-top naked truth. Simply said, I was caught red-handed, but thankfully NOT with my pants down. Instead I let the cat out of the bag and was called on the carpet for jumping on the bandwagon of terse reality. I couldn’t keep it under my hat any longer, but I knew somehow this might be the kiss of death for me and my holy humor. The jig is up. Can’t hold a candle to it. It’s a Catch 22, if there ever was one.</p>
<p>You see, I’ve been known to charm the pants off many. I’ve chewed the fat and jumped through hoops with the best of ‘em. Since the fans of this gospel/singing/comedy life assume you live the life of Riley, the truth is: It’s pretty much hand to mouth. I have no bitter pill to swallow or reason to get my dander up. I’m no longer quiet as a mouse and I must quit my belly aching. But after three long weeks with extra long graveyard shift drives, I was head over heels weary while barking up the wrong tree of fatigue. Bet your bottom dollar, this best bib and tucker girl will say wrong things when she’s tired. (Lord, what did she say??)</p>
<p>Ready. Set. Go. I said the “A - double scribble” word during one of my comedy concerts. It flew out of my mouth like birds of a feather flocking together. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I tell ya for sure - my mother would have boxed my ears, breaking a leg (or two), and surely would be busting my chops over this one. By hook or crook, I knew this can of worms would NEVER give me enough time to spew an explanation or get a word in edgewise to the audience. It’s like I was caught red-handed in “if the shoe fits, wear it” language faux pas. </p>
<p>So Sue becomes Johnny on the spot, keeping her fingers crossed, that no one noticed this “let your hair down” expression. I was simply making no bones about it, the “A _ _” word came out after the mom in the audience finally took her precocious toddler out of the sanctuary. The naked truth is, the toddler was a full gamut loose cannon and mark my words, whatever I would or would not say, I’d be here today and gone tomorrow. I, the performer, was distracted. So I raise my Ebenezer, hit the nail on the head, and say (out loud to the audience), “If that was me when I was a kid, my mother would have hauled my “A _ _” to the parking lot!" (except I said THE word). </p>
<p>Silence, horror, then applause and laughter....</p>
<p>Beggars can’t be choosers, but bet your bottom dollar, someone in my world will be offended that I'm even retelling this tale. But hell or high water, I was between a rock and hard place dealing with both the toddler and his behavior and me and my “I can’t bite my tongue” any longer syndrome. My heart hurt like the Dickens, but I grinned like a Cheshire cat. We laughed, we cried, (the audience and I) for forever it seemed. Thank God they didn’t throw the baby (me) out with the bath water. I was down in the mouth for dropping the hammer for only a little while. This dyed in the wool singer/humorist of over forty years has realized that this once in a blue moon utterance was one for the road. </p>
<p>Before you cast the first stone, eat your heart out, oh precious sacred-talking friend! Like you’ve never done something like this...</p>
<p>I am eating crow and eating one’s own words, but I’m thanking God today that being real is as easy as pie for me. Too easy maybe..</p>
<p>In this eleventh hour, pardon my french here: If you fly off the handle or fight fire with fire, you’ll surely be an offense. If I can put my two cents in here: Put a sock in it. You’re like the pot calling the kettle black, if you haven’t at least once said something publicly you shouldn’t have. If your name is mud today, I’m not pulling your chain here - be very thankful. The people around you who are fit to be tied because of your transparency aren’t as fit as a fiddle as you think. I’d prefer to just put a feather in my cap, face the music, whistle down the wind on a wing and a prayer, and quit wearing my heart on my sleeve. </p>
<p>You’ll get opposition and you’ll make some mad as a hatter. But don’t ever give up being real. Two shakes of a lamb’s tale, I’m up the creek without a paddle sometimes. Thankfully my ducks are all in a row and I’m eating humble pie. With my kit and caboodle, I’m loaded for bear and keeping my shirt on ‘til Katy bars the door.</p>
<p>Let that cat out of the bag. Let your hair down. People need Jesus. The real Jesus. The one without the chip on His shoulder, ‘cause when the chips are down, He’s no cock and bull story. Give credit wear credit is due. Be the low man on the totem pole and you’ll be pleased as punch, flying with colors when your fair to middling life becomes truer than every other Tom, Dick and Harry. Be you. For the love of Pete, be you. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the apple of HIS eye, even when you can’t bite your tongue or resist blowing off some steam. Loose lips sink ships, but mark my word, don’t go dragging your feet down the straight and narrow.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>The photo below is the creation of my good friend and MOST HIGH REVEREND Tim Satryan. LOL!</em></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/f6f6697c3f7b50b994b95799623b730fdeec62cc/original/1382970-10151690665096951-1684262655-n.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTYweDQyMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="420" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="560" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110927
2013-10-13T19:00:00-05:00
2021-09-10T12:19:57-05:00
I Think I Have Aibophobia!
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<p><br> <br> Do you have Aibohphobia? (The fear of palindromes). If you do, here's your answer. Every word listed below can be read either way - forwards or backwards. They aren't the exact kind of palindrome we're used to, like "civic", "rotor" or even "aibohphobia". But what if words, spelled correctly both forward and backwards, two completely different words - together - share a definition? Hmmm. Let's see..<br> </p>
<ul>
<li>SMUT: What a person wants when they've been locked in a closet for having too much gas.</li>
<li>STRESSED: That anxious feeling as you trotted backwards, forgetting that you walked right by the chocolate cake.</li>
<li>SLIPUP: A condition that comes from going to an Optometrist rather than an Opthamologist</li>
<li>STINK: This happens when you don't wash your cotton socks.</li>
<li>LEON: That age-old Christmas Carol, sung by Mr. Redbone </li>
<li>PEES: You don't want the accidental equivalent of either of these.</li>
<li>POTS: Those things Jeff Duffield never seems to find, so he halts in his tracks.</li>
<li>DENNIS: Pray for this man, because "...ALL have ______ and come short of the glory of God.</li>
<li>DOG: All GOD parents adopt your fury friend.</li>
<li>SERACS: The fear of a large freestanding ice column falling on you.</li>
<li>AIDAN: The names you pick out, in case your obstetrician is wrong</li>
<li>RATS: The word you say when you're late for the race to the sun.</li>
<li>SPAN: Your world, for some reason, is more palatial and broad, because you took a snooze.</li>
<li>FLOG: To personally promote your own "duffer" ways..</li>
<li>MOOD: If you have this, be careful, of what a bad one can do!</li>
<li>PACER: Someone who diligently knows the value of a summary</li>
</ul>
<div>The word-police people will hate this post. However, the linguists and the teachers who teach the meanings of words will probably love it and come up with a few on their own.</div>
<div>
<br> Good night, all. My TIMER went off so it's time for me to dispatch the sleep fairy and give her some payola.<br> <br> <em>Do you have any words, that when spelled backwards and forwards, need a new definition? I'd love to see what you come up with! :)</em><br> <em><br></em> <br> <br>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin: 0px;"><em><em>BTW, the Bible is FILLED with those regular kinds of palindromes, like:</em></em></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin: 0px;"><em><em>Eve, Ada, Anna, Abba, Gog, Nun..</em></em></div>
<div><em><em> </em></em></div>
<br> </div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110926
2013-09-24T19:00:00-05:00
2013-09-25T06:24:18-05:00
Sister-calm
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<p><br> Another airplane episode..<br> Most planes I fly these days are jammed-packed. Not an inch of wiggle room. Not that I have any plans to wiggle while on a plane, but sometimes you just have to adjust and squirm a bit in that sacred space, to evenly distribute the cellulite...<br> <br> The flight attendant announces that this is a "light" flight tonight. Then she laughs.<br> "OK, folks - let's move around a bit. There's only forty-five of us going to Nashville tonight. So, spread out, lots of room - and enjoy the ride."<br> I'm ecstatic. Lots of room! Over-joyed. Until...<br> <br> A very nice, (I'm assuming). tall and skinny gentleman in shorts and a Baltimore Ravens tee-shirt makes his way to my row. I'm sitting on the window seat of this Southwest 737 which is the norm for me on return flights. I can lean my head on the window-wall, slobber and pass out.<br> He plops his backpack onto the middle seat right next to me, while throwing something in the overhead bin. Then he grabs his backpack, jostles his body and flops into the seat right next to me. No one in front of me, no one in back of me and no one on the aisle seat! This man chooses THIS seat. I mean, c'mon! <br> <br> I look at him and say, "Um, you don't really have to sit in this middle seat, sir - there's tons of seats all around."<br> He pauses, looks around.<br> "Oh, I know, but I find that I do much better flying when I'm in a middle seat, sitting next to someone", he says matter-of-factly. Then he pushes his backpack underneath the seat in front of him. He's there to stay.<br> Dumbfounded, I stutter a bit, in the craziness.<br> "Really? How come I'm your chosen one when you have a hundred middle seats all around you?"<br> He takes a breath and says, (get ready)<br> "Oh, you look like a calm person, plus you look like my sister."<br> <br> Oh great. I'm his Sister-calm. <br> <br> So, I do what I normally do on a home-bound flight - snore. I miss the free beverage and peanuts. I don't even remember the take off. Upon waking though, I notice my tray table is down, a cup of ice water somehow appears on it along with two mini-bags of peanuts.<br> I shuffle around in my seat when the gentleman next to me says,<br> "I took the liberty to get you some water and peanuts. I hope that was OK."<br> I thanked him and took a sip.<br> "You looked really tired and I didn't want you to miss getting some water. Water really helps when you fly. You must fly a lot", he says.<br> "Yeah, you got that right. I appreciate your kindness. Thank you."<br> Then he says, "Thanks for letting me sit next to you. It helped. I'm just not a great flier. Hearing you sleep was actually a good thing for me. I've got a hell of a week ahead of me."<br> <br> The sleeping Sister-calm. I did nothing. I said nothing. In fact, I was kind of rude. especially when I realized he'd be my initial space-invader. But then I was aware of some things I hadn't really thought about:<br></p>
<ul>
<li>Sometimes there's no need to say a thing if Jesus truly lives inside you</li>
<li>Just be; and don't be offended at every little thing</li>
<li>Be aware of your body language and how it can either repel or invite</li>
<li>Thank God every day for His grace towards you - even when you're not so nice</li>
<li>Everyone has a story; And it rarely has anything to do with you</li>
</ul>
<div> The singing/speaking/ministering part of my life has no real validity unless I walk in grace, love and care towards those around me. One day I want to teach a course on the "Ethics of Christian Performers". Your success as a singer or speaker has <strong><em>everything</em></strong> to do with your conduct and treatment of those around you, before and after you grace a stage. Period.</div>
<div>
<br> <br> <strong><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+17:27&version=MSG" data-imported="1">Psalm 17:27</a></strong><br> The one who knows much says little; an understanding person remains calm.</div>
<p><br></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110925
2013-09-05T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:37:01-06:00
Take Time To Poofread
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<p>I consider myself quite the pompous proofreader. I'd gouge out my eyes first, before EVER letting something like a manuscript or paper get by without reading it fifty-seven times. I even pretend to be a teacher - buying red pens, circling my own mistakes, grading and writing in the columns, "You can DO much better than this!"<br> And yes, I will even correct you, given the chance. There is an edit button on each of your Facebook pages that, if you took the time to spell-check your posts, you could correct your own mistakes. Nah, why do that? Especially when you can just post (again), "Ooops, I meant to say or type,,, whatever..", boring us all half to death.<br> <br> So enter the texting, typing, "I am lazy" editing world where it's quite common (and expected) to make grammatical mistakes or punch out mis-spelled words, or even worse - the word you type is correctly spelled, but spell-check doesn't understand that it's not the <strong>right</strong> word for the sentence. (Or run-on sentences, like the previous one..) Say, like <em>public vs. pubic</em>. One little "L" separates these two words. Flirting with this could be a disaster, especially in a church bulletin or on power point. I'll leave it at that..<br> <br> So, tonight, I'm poof-reading. Poof. Funny word. I like it. It's here one minute; gone the next. And here's poof:<br> </p>
<ul>
<li>My eyes deceive me. I think I type 2013, when indeed I type, 2103. There's poof.</li>
<li>I assume I'm making you laugh here, and I have no poof of that.</li>
<li>Double check not only what you type, but what you mean. Poof spoken.</li>
<li>Thank God every day that you don't get penalized for your grammar lack. Otherwise, it'd be like **poof**, and you'd be gone.</li>
</ul>
<div>No your faults. And be sure to poofread, especially when your using the wrong words. I'm knot even going to go their, because I just get sew frustrated with people who don't take the time to poofread. Honestly, people, unless ewe take the thyme to evaluate you're own faults, please don't judge judy me or anyone else. Simply put: Poofread for yourself and be thankful that everybody makes mystics. I, for won, am proud that I know longer suffer from all of this.</div>
<div></div>
<div></div>
<div>(Also on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2013/09/take-time-to-poofread.html" data-imported="1">Sue-biquitous!</a>)</div>
<div></div>
<p><br> </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110924
2013-08-25T19:00:00-05:00
2013-09-01T11:31:54-05:00
Going to Haiti!
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<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Thanks for helping Sue spend Christmas with the children of Haiti! Click for <a href="http://fnd.us/c/8ZMi1" data-imported="1">here</a> more info.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>I've been given an exceptional opportunity to minister, share and bring smiles to the children of an amazing orphanage in Jeremie, Haiti. Thanks in advance for your help to get me there. The child in me can't wait to have the children there - in my heart, forever. And best of all, I'm raising funds for Christmas gifts for the children as well. Blessings to those of you who will help me in this cause.</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><em>FOR more details on the stewardship of this missions outreach, please feel free to send an email to Sue at radiosue@me.com</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110923
2013-08-20T19:00:00-05:00
2013-08-21T15:48:35-05:00
What Knot To Wear
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.sueduffield.com/img/canstockphoto15358520.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="472" width="355" /></p>
<p>Just finished watching the final season of my fav TLC program of all time, "What Not To Wear". I just enjoy watching the squirm of the most unlikely candidates they can find. Stacy and Clinton always convict me with their rigors of questioning like, "Do you like wearing your clothes?", or "Are you more concerned with comfort than fashion?", or "Do you REALLY think that looks attractive on you?", or (even worse), "You know, we're getting rid of your entire wardrobe, right?" Ugh. It's not Sue Duffield on the program today, but it might as well be. My Annie often threatens me that, one day, Stacy and Clinton will appear when I least expect it. </p>
<p style="text-align: left;">As far as fashion goes, I know I lead two very distinct and different looks and lives. I have a stage wardrobe life and a casual every-day "whatever" roadrobe (!) Raise your hand if you have a roadrobe? I know you do. And depending on the fluctuation of flab and distribution of equidistant fat cells, my roadrobe is much more forgiving than the wardrobe. I also have a friend who tells me that I need to wear more scarves, with different chic and creative ways to tying the knot. Now, that's "knot" saying that I can't, but I struggle with knot-tying. Definitely knot a strength I have. And that's knot saying that I can't learn... Knot really.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">Here's three "knots" that I learned from Clinton today. He actually mentions these three points in one definitive sentence. Clinton has no idea how this applies to just about everything I am. I think we can learn something here: </p>
<p><strong><em>1. Become your own woman.</em></strong> </p>
<p>I'm not sure who's dressing who, but when it comes to stage attire, it bothers me how some grown women are letting their teenage/young adult daughters tell them what to wear. Becoming your own woman really means: Be who YOU are, not your daughter's replica or the stores' style where she buys her stuff. In my line of work, I take a lot of time making sure my image isn't overshadowing the real reason I am there, and that's to be a vessel for Christ. I recently sang for an event where eighty percent of the audience were men. As a precaution and as an awareness mindset, it would never be in my thoughts to dress provocatively, curvy or exposing more flesh than necessary. Modesty, I know, has become the socially distressed dinosaur in some circles, but in this particular venue - it is imperative that I project a more business style. There is no question I am here for one reason and one reason alone: To be a carrier of the gospel and not a physical distraction. Following the service, a man approaches me and says, "Thank you, Ms. Sue, for presenting in a way where we men didn't have to fight thoughts and fantasies." I knew immediately what he meant. I smile and say to myself, "Thank you God, for wisdom." <em>What knot to wear?</em> Wear the knot in your throat that reminds you, you could miss this whole thing, if you wear something inappropriate. (Time capsule): I used to wear short skirts (mini-skirts) on the stages of churches back in the 70s. And yes, I listened to the wisdom of my mother-in-law, and "lengthened" my shelf life in the gospel business, by lengthening my skirts.</p>
<p><em><strong>2. Define your own style</strong>. </em></p>
<p><em></em>Marita Littauer makes a great living counseling women speakers on how to dress. She has a more flamboyant style than I'd wear, but over all, she's right: Your personality and the colors you wear really go hand in hand. I prefer to wear more solid colors rather than prints on stage. In the professional world, solid primary colors show confidence and command attention. Imagine this: What if it was just a tweaking of a color change or a solid color that made your message even more effective? Would you change what you're wearing then? I prefer suits. Always have. Always will. But not every venue is a suit venue. I have a more tailored style taste. I know it. I live it. And because this style is never trendy or reflective of the current culture fads necessarily.. I'm always IN style. <em>What knot to wear?</em> Wear the knot on your head, after you've hit your noggin with your V8 moment realizing... your definitive style speaks volumes. They'll hear your message louder, without the showy distraction. </p>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 332px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Though one may be overpowered,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 332px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"> two can defend themselves.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 332px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.</div>
<p><em><strong>3. Get On With Your Life!</strong> </em></p>
<p><em></em>Here's the freeing aspect that goes hand in hand with the gospel: We "wear" His name. And if we wear His name, no matter what our size or style, we are free to get going with the things that matter most. <em>What knot to wear?</em> Wear the knot that ties us together. Keep your stomach OUT of knots, when you know you have the power to be a great witness, and not a preoccupation with how you look. Wear the knot that signifies a coming together of many strands. It's the knot that can never be torn apart. It's the knot of eternal friendship. Ecclesiastes 4:12 says, "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."</p>
<p><em>For more fun, here's a great book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Knot-Handbook-Maria-Costantino/dp/0806975814/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1377121124&sr=8-1&keywords=the+knot+handbook" data-imported="1">"The Knot Handbook"</a>. You'll see more spiritual and scriptural application in this little manual than most Christian books! And you'll really see "what knot to wear"!</em></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110922
2013-07-22T19:00:00-05:00
2013-07-23T05:15:52-05:00
Never A Dull Moment - Interview with Pam Unthank
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110921
2013-07-18T19:00:00-05:00
2021-11-03T04:05:13-05:00
A Communicable Dizzy-ease
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/funny-horse-animal-wallpapers.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="300" width="400" /></p>
<p>I told a little friend of mine, who will soon turn eleven - "Sweetie, you will draw more people TO you when you smile!"</p>
<p>She looked at me dumbfounded and said, "I can't draw people too good. I can draw trees and horses better."</p>
<p>I got it. I laughed.</p>
<p>My favorite story recently was posted on Facebook by a gal attending church here in the Nashville area. When she "checked in" and wrote a status update, she inadvertently checked in to Hooter's Restaurant, which was right across from the church. That's funny in itself. She wrote, "In His Presence" - at Hooters. (I'm dying over here!) But the best response was her friend's comment under the status update. "Girl, you better cross that street!"</p>
<p>Now THAT"s funny right there!</p>
<p>I love the comedy network on Sirius radio. Without it, I'd be in a ditch somewhere off a major highway. It keeps me in stitches, laughing, even when I'm bone tired from late-night driving. Keeping me awake is the goal. That's a good thing. A comedian said yesterday; (Husband in his eighties yells to his wife) "What's it like outside?" She says, "It's windy." He responds, "No it's not, it's Thursday." She says back, "Yeah, so am I - what do you want, water or tea?" (I'm dizzy with laughter! Love it!)</p>
<p>I have since decided, since most of you who follow me know - I have a communicable funny dizzy-ease. It's infectious, transmissible and comes by being in direct contact with someone who is dizzily in love with laughter, goofy stories, and spontaneous kid-like frolic. People will be drawn to you, like a horse drawn to water. <em>(Literally though, my glass is half empty right now, 'cause it fell off the table! But that doesn't mean that my attitude is half empty. it just means I got to get up again from the table and fill my glass back up with cucumber water... and clean the mess on the floor. I need Mr. Ed..)</em></p>
<p>For all my social media friends and experts out there who post on a regular basis, let me help you with something: Don't be God. Don't be judgmental. Don't express hatred through sarcasm. Invite others in the conversation. Applaud, praise and comment on posts that are worthy of your stamp of approval. Be communicable in the best of ways. Share in the "dizziness" and ease of your shortcomings. You never look better to the world than when you are real and vulnerable. I ain't horsin' around with this. :/</p>
<p>Jesus reminds us all, <strong>"Everything I have is yours."</strong> (Luke 15:31) It's a contagious and communicable "ease" (without the dis), knowing that you can have this gift called <em>everything</em>.</p>
<p>Share it. Sing it. Speak it. Write it. Live it. Draw it. </p>
<p>BTW, my little friend drew a picture of me. When she handed it to me, I looked like a horse. I laughed. She laughed. Then she said, "I 'drew' you, right?"</p>
<p>Yes, baby girl, you <em>drew</em> me alright. :)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110920
2013-07-01T19:00:00-05:00
2023-10-16T09:56:05-05:00
From My Perspective: Our Days With Sammy Hall
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<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">I was sitting on a beach in New Jersey when Mike, a friend of mine who was running the snack shop, walked toward me said, </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">“Your mom’s on the phone.”</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">Now in those days, this wasn’t unusual, especially since there was no other way to connect. Find a community pay phone, park by it and give your mom the phone number. That’s what the Salem County Sportsmen’s Club Snack Shop/Beach phone had become: A community. Everybody used it to find their kids.</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">My mom said that Sammy Hall called and was offering both Jeff Duffield (my then boyfriend) and me a job. I gathered my stuff and jumped in my ’73 Plymouth Gold Duster and headed home. I’m thinking during the drive, “Who in the world is Sammy Hall?” </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">Jeff had a prior knowledge of Sammy after hearing him perform in Atlanta around 1971. I forgot I recorded one of Sammy’s songs, “Jesus Is the Man For the Hour”. Wow. That song was from one of my favorite Oak Ridge Boys albums, “Light”. But still, I knew nothing about Sammy. We said yes.</span></p>
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<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">This was a huge step for these two yankee kids who just graduated from high school. We soon make the trek to Sevierville, Tennessee and join a group of rock ‘n roll ruffians who learned to play gospel music! What an eclectic group. Lenny Stadler, on bass, came from a hard rock music background. Mike Cain, drums, was playing clubs when he got the call. Row Jennings was a young Church of God girl. And together with Sammy, Jeff on keyboards and me on vocals, we rounded out a whirlwind of over 400+concerts in a year. Sometimes we’d sound like ‘The Mamas & The Papas” and other times we’d sound like a cross between contemporary Christian and southern gospel.</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">Sammy recently went home to be with the Lord and Lenny passed away also from cancer. But the legacy of these two will live on. Weekly, if not daily, I receive messages either on Facebook or by email from people who found God at a Sammy Hall Crusade. Our music at the time was years ahead of most. It was also hard to pigeon-hole Sammy into a venue. One week we’d do a series of Orrell concerts in the mid-west, then the next week, sing in High Schools all over the south, doing more of a British rock flare.</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">I had the privilege to sing for Sammy’s home-going service. I sang Elmer Cole’s classic, “Ten Thousand Years”. This was a signature song for us in the ‘70s and one that Sammy graciously gave me the lead. </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">I’ve just spent ten minutes of your time telling you facts. Some you may have known. But now, let me just share a piece of emotion that I’ve probably never shared before.</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">We left the group the next year. We didn’t leave because we didn’t agree with the philosophy of Sammy’s ministry. If anything, that alone could have kept us there for decades. We also didn’t leave because we weren’t getting the industry “looks” and accolades. We got plenty. And many top record labels were offering Sammy and his “new” group a chance at doing some great things. Gary S. Paxton, for one, grasped the concept and talent of this band. Jeff and I didn’t even leave because we thought our specific talents weren’t focused enough. No. Truthfully, I always thought that we had way TOO much focus. Jeff was the first American gospel keyboardist to play a Mellotron, a Clavinet and a Wurlitzer electric piano - all at the same time on stage. And I was featured way too much vocally. We also didn’t leave because we had difficulty with getting along with band members. No way. Rick Sandidge, who drove the bus for us, still remains to be one of our closest friends. And the connection piece has always been there with all the band members. We really had no clue how much we had.</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">The reason Jeff and I moved back to New Jersey was to start our own ministry. We could barely make it on $99 a week back then. So, soon after we were married, we began a music ministry in the northeast. Forty-plus years later, we are still in that ministry. It has taken on all kinds of dimension and changes, but I have to say, if it wasn’t for Sammy Hall and the gift he gave us, I doubt we would have taken such risk. Ironically, we moved back to Tennessee four years ago..</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">It’s a different world now. Groups come and go and change personnel like dirty socks. But for one very brief moment in time, Sammy Hall’s group, the one that turned heads, still continues to be discussed and written about. We saw this energy at his funeral. It was a surreal moment for me, because back in the day, I didn’t really think anyone paid attention. And maybe that was a good thing. God was protecting all of us from letting it go to our heads.</span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"> </span></p>
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">Sammy later traveled internationally doing huge business events and other outreach venues. But still, as far as I’m concerned, he was at his best when we all shared one cause, one voice, one band, one hope, one mission: To reach young people for Christ. And to do it well - musically.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"><span class="font_xl"><strong><font face="Helvetica"><span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;">FOR MORE ON SAMMY HALL, </span><span style="font-size: 12px;">listen to the <a contents="Suebiquitous Podcast Episode # 8&nbsp;" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/going-forward-by-looking-back/id1513004578?i=1000479958422">Suebiquitous Podcast Episode # 8</a></span><a contents="Suebiquitous Podcast Episode # 8&nbsp;" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/going-forward-by-looking-back/id1513004578?i=1000479958422"><span style="font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span></a></font></strong></span></p>
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<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: left; margin: 0px;"> </p>
<p>Below is Sammy Hall's funeral service.</p>
<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="wrapped wrapped" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s2J7qLQXRd4?ecver=1" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="560"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110919
2013-06-25T19:00:00-05:00
2013-06-26T03:41:25-05:00
Pool Over And Abide By The Rules
<p>Hotel rules and ticky-tack regulations could cause me to be arrested. I know that they have to jump through ALL kinds of hoops and regulations to please both the city and state. Some of their policies operate on the side of caution. I know this.</p>
<p>I check into a well-known chain hotel and I receive the following notice. (Verbatim. It's attached to my key sleeve, with a rubber band wrapped around it.) Here goes:</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>In accordance with our state's Health Department Regulations and for your safety, </strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>it is important that you are aware of our pool regulations:</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>1. There is no lifeguard on duty.</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>2. Never swim alone</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>3. There is no substitute for adequate supervision. Children under 16 MUST be accompanied by an adult or guardian.</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>4. In an Emergency pick up pool area phone and dial #9.</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>5. No alcohol or glass around pool</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>6. No running, diving or horseplay.</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><em><strong>7. Swim at your own risk.</strong></em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"> </p>
<p>The gal at the front desk says I have to sign a form stating that I have "read" these pool regulations and that I will abide by them. I'm laughing to myself thinking - this is NOT a problem. You see, it is March and it's New York and it's 29 degrees outside. Dumb. Save it for summer, for cryin' out loud.</p>
<p>So, in reality, these guidelines for protection weren't applicable right now, wouldn't you say? I think so. It's much like reading from the scriptures - words that don't really pertain to me right now - but later on, you find that they "fit" just right.</p>
<p>I remember reading a passage from <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=proverbs%2031:25-26&version=NLT" data-imported="1">Proverbs 31:25-26</a> when I was a teen, thinking, "This really doesn't apply to me. I'm not an old woman."</p>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 207px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">She is clothed with strength and dignity,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 207px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"> and she laughs without fear of the future.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 207px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">26 When she speaks, her words are wise,</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 207px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"> and she gives instructions with kindness.</div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. </strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>When she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness."</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe now the age old ice is melting and I'm ready for an arctic swim. No running or diving, mind you, but you can bet - there'll be some horseplay! That's just who I am. "Pull the icy tarp off! I'm ready for a plunge!"</p>
<p>So, the next day I check out of the hotel. I smile at the manager and mention, "You know, I had a good laugh over your rules and mandatory agreement for your pool - especially since it's sub-freezing outside!"</p>
<p>He laughed too. Then said, "You know we have an indoor pool too, right?"</p>
<p><em>(Silenced, I drop my head in embarrassment.)</em></p>
<p>Yes, I laughed out loud without fear of the future, knowing that one day I'd tell you this story. "When she speaks, her words are wise." (When exactly does <em>this</em> happen? Swim and speak at your own risk. I need adequate supervision...)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/blog-frozen-pools.gif" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="210" width="280" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Also posted on "<a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2013/06/hotel-rules-and-ticky-tack-regulations.html" data-imported="1">Sue-biquitous</a>!"</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110918
2013-05-22T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:51-06:00
This Speaks Volumes
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto12141904.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="387" width="284" /></p>
<p>There are very few songs that really move me. Does that surprise you? Probably so. But as a singer and musician, it's both a blessing and a curse to think, live, eat and dream musically. It's just the way I process. So amidst the clatter and pseudo-music-forms that most of us are content and presented with, I sometimes (and oft times) choose to go outside my chosen venue and clear my internal song-cluttered governor. It's like a cleansing of the palette. </p>
<p>Today I'm reading about "being content in all things". The <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=philippians%204:11-13&version=NLT" data-imported="1">Philippians 4:11-13</a> passage speaks volumes when you have nothing. But it really speaks like a cruise-ship horn, when you "think" you have it all. I meet people every day who have volumes of stuff but no volume of space for the thing that means the most. I'm sure if we asked anyone in Moore, OK what matters most, doubtfully they'd say it's their possessions. Just being alive is their volume.</p>
<p>So Frank? I think you nailed it today. "All My Tomorrows Belong to You". And for me? I'm aware of what matters most: My relationship with God, my family and my friends. Anything else really doesn't matter much to me. <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=philippians%204:12&version=NLT" data-imported="1">Paul's secret of contentment</a> really shouts the loudest, not just to those who have nothing, but to those of us (and even Frank in his day) who seemingly have or have had it all. Take a few minutes today and be thankful for what you have, and not what you don't have. Know that you are able to face anything by the One who makes you able to do it. All your tomorrows are <strong><em>His</em></strong> tomorrows too. And that speaks volumes...</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/C--03yhLzqI" width="420" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
<p style="text-align: center;"> Songwriters: Davies, Ivor Arthur</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110917
2013-05-06T19:00:00-05:00
2020-09-11T06:43:05-05:00
Where's The Safe House?
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto7664138.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="350" width="350" /></p>
<p>This will be an unspecified and ambiguous post. No real details of location, times or names. I'm protecting my new friend and her family. But "Jane" has given me permission to tell her story. After a women's event, Jane, a beautiful and shy young woman, approaches me in the foyer of her church. This is her first words to me. </p>
<p>"Sue, you know when you were talking about women who are stuck in a lifestyle that they just don't know how to get out of? Well, I'm one of those stuck women. I was abused physically early in my life by a friend of my father. I tried telling my parents about it but they didn't believe me. Later, in High School, I became infatuated with a boy who I thought cared about me. Instead, he put me in horrific situations (sexually) with his friends. He told me that if I didn't do this, he would tell my friends, hurt my mother and ruin my father's name. I was 16 then. Now I'm 28. Sue, please tell these women who are trapped in unsafe houses, that there is hope and that there are agencies and safe places they can go. I lost my childhood innocence. And later, when fear gripped me along with doubt and disregard for my own body, I just caved in and prostituted myself to make money. All the while I was doing this, I still went to church. I'm the pastor's daughter."</p>
<p>Jane, your word is out. I never ever once think that all women I speak to have it all together. If anything, I know that many women come with dark secrets. Some I may never know about, but all have a chance to uncover their hidden heart to an embracing forgiving Jesus. I try very hard to make these events a safe place. A safe place to laugh, cry and share our stories.</p>
<p>It doesn't stop here. When they're willing and ready, the process of healing and restoration for these women and girls begin at that moment of confession. Jane has been referred to a women's counselor and is working her way back to health, physically and spiritually. Her father now knows and he too is getting help for his neglect.</p>
<p>You see, even as a pastor's daughter, Jane is not exempt from the cruelty of the dark side. If anything, her face told me, "I've been bruised and battered twice - once by these men and boys. And again by well-meaning parents who refused (for fear of their own reputation) to believe me."</p>
<p>My ears and eyes are wide open. The heart of Christ is her safe house. This is only the beginning of the uncovering. Pray. </p>
<p>(On a side note: I wrote this story a few months ago, but waited until the right time for the reveal. Today is the day, especially after the breaking news story of the three women rescued from a Cleveland house where they were held hostage.)</p>
<p>Two completely different houses - both unsafe. One in Cleveland and one in a reputable neighborhood with a little white church.</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110916
2013-04-23T19:00:00-05:00
2013-04-24T02:26:27-05:00
Can I Bring My Children To A Women's Retreat?
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/IMG_5925.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="300" width="300" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm not the one making decisions for who can or can't attend a women's retreat. Surprisingly, once I had a man ask me if I thought it would be OK if he could attend. After clearing my throat and trying not to laugh, the comment begged for a question:<br><br>"Sir, why would <em><strong>you</strong></em> want to come to a women's retreat?"<br>He quietly responds.<br>"My wife is handi-capped, and she rarely goes anywhere without me. She saw the topic of the weekend, looked at me with her big blue eyes and said, 'Can you take me?'"<br><br>After I pulled my foot out of my mouth, I say, "Yes, you surely can come."<br><br>I spoke for a retreat with a different flavor. In all of my retreat years, I've never encountered this. There were several young moms, not only bringing their infants, but also small toddlers. I have never been a proponent of bringing babies/toddlers/children to women's retreats. I just know that (as a mom), you'll be spending more time in the hallways than in the sessions. I also know that many other women who paid equally to come and get away, can get quite offended by the squabbles, the crying, and the disruptions. I really can't blame them. It's also very hard as a speaker to work with all the distractions.<br><br>The other side of the story, however, goes like this: Many of these young moms wouldn't be able to come without bringing their children. Some by self-induced choice; others by the fact that anyone they would remotely trust to watch their children for the weekend, are already here with them at the retreat!<br><br>So what I encountered in Clarion, PA happened so quickly and so divinely that I don't know quite how to write it. Courtney, a precocious two year old, is quite a hand full. Her mom, who I grew to love instantly, IS spending more time in the hall ways and her hotel room than in any of the sessions. She has all three of her children with her. Her life is in a crisis mode and many around her know this. I do not. At least not yet.<br><br>Courtney was in the back of the ballroom just being a typical two year old. I have to admit I was very close to frustration myself, knowing that the other women present were a little fatigued with the interruptions. I just started to sing, "Amazing Love" and I watched as Courtney separated herself from her mother and started walking slowly up the center aisle towards me. I saw her immediately. I kept singing and slowly walked towards her. I got down on my knees and sang directly to her. Face to face. She didn't move for over five minutes. I was staring into those gorgeous blue eyes, while at the same time stroking her hair, her shoulders and her hands. It was a divine interruption.<br><br>Every woman in that ballroom had tears in their eyes. I knew it was a sacred stop. I knew that the Holy Spirit had an agenda and it was up to me to flow with it or lose it. Someone captured this on video and I surely hope to pass it along here when I get it.<br><br>Courtney, her mom, her family and their situation needs a major miracle. It was in that sacred pause that I believe God showed me how to quit. To quit trying to make things work. To quit trying to force stuff. To quit being the orchestrator and let God direct the symphony.<br><br>Courtney never moved a muscle, looking deep into my eyes. After the song finished, we all sang "Yes, Jesus Loves Me" and Courtney sang with me. She was a different child from that point on. So was I.<br><br>I'm still not a proponent of bringing kids to a retreat, but I've got to say - this was a superb picture of what Jesus would do. To be "interrupted" by children, is to see the hand of God. I'm not that smart, but I knew better. This would turn that ballroom into a sanctuary. And it did.<br><br>How do you handle the interruptions in your life? Wouldn't it be amazing if you allowed yourself to flow with God-ly peace, even when it's not in your plan?<br><br>The child in me says, "Yes. Because Jesus Loves Me."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This post also on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2013/04/can-i-bring-my-children-to-womens.html" data-imported="1">Sue-biquitous!</a></p>
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Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110915
2013-04-10T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:49-06:00
Hymn-Singing With Ann Downing
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/394679/2bffa604f8d69c50b1a5e37d87af0fb3a0864a35/original/img-5482.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzIweDMyMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="320" width="320" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>She travels and sings. I travel and sing. She’s from Mississippi. I’m from New Jersey. She lives in Hendersonville. I live in Hendersonville. I’ve known about her since I was twelve years old. She’s only known me for the last four years. But the fast friendship simply began by meeting Ann at a local Hendersonville restaurant with friends. It went like this: “Hi Ann. You don’t know me, really. But I could have been a Downing years ago...”. She throws her head back and laughs. I laugh. It’s true.</strong></p>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>She travels and sings. I travel and sing. She’s from Mississippi. I’m from New Jersey. She lives in Hendersonville. I live in Hendersonville. I’ve known about her since I was twelve years old. She’s only known me for the last four years. But the fast friendship simply began by meeting Ann at a local Hendersonville restaurant with friends. It went like this: </strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>“Hi Ann. You don’t know me, really. But I could have been a Downing years ago...”. She throws her head back and laughs. I laugh. It’s true.</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>That simple first encounter has led to an unusual and rewarding relationship with Ann Downing. She comes equipped with solid friendships, both inner circle and casual, plus an arsenal of fans. So it wasn’t in my frame to even try to invade any of those areas, like a groupie or something. This was different right from the start. And yes, we are SO different. But in the things that truly matter? We are crazily alike. Ann has a renewed passion to take it to the next level, both spiritually and musically, to a new generation. So do I. That’s what friends do. They find the commonalities, the drive, the treasures, and they run with an “iron sharpening iron” cadence.</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>Later, a casual conversation over a Starbucks coffee (and many meetings since), creates this inspiring chit chat into a surprising mentorship. And probably not what you're thinking either. We're both experiencing the amazing and unpredictable transformation of ministry on the road. I’m the perpetual student of reformation, studying new paradigms and doing my homework on relevancy in music and ministry. And sometimes that relevancy pushes me to look back. Ann, the singer/songwriter, allows herself to be the student this time. And somehow, I’ve been blessed to be the teacher.</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>“Ann, have you thought about recording a hymns project?" I ask, fumbling over my words while eating a chocolate strawberry. </strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>"I know that Jeff and I could do this for you.” </strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>Bold. Spicy. Out there. That’s what has transpired after a four year relationship. She knew this wasn’t a hard-sell, “trying to get a record deal” kind of discussion from me. This was straight from the heart. Timing and trust is everything. </strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>Later, as we prepare to record at Oak Tree Studios in Hendersonville, TN, I ask Ann why she picked the hymns she's selected for this project. She answers:</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>“I had a few songs in mind from the beginning of the plan, then picked up my hymnal and started thumbing through, stopping to read each lyric. The words of the hymns just jumped out of me... the songs I feel I’ve lived with Him.”</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>Ann’s earliest recollection of standards like “Footsteps of Jesus” and “Blessed Assurance” comes from being that vivacious little six year old from Oldtown Baptist Church in Mississippi. </strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>She tells me, “I think one major thing I’d like audiences to hear from these classics is a journey back through their lives. To remember the points along the way. Beautiful songs with more than just a melody, but music that reflects a real encounter with God.”</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>“The hymns have stood the test of time... not just because of familiarity, but because of deep truth and about one’s walk with God. Trusting Him for the future, “ Ann adds.</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>Ann, in her own right, is an exceptional songwriter. But this time around, she’s allowing the pen of these former inspired writers to minister to her as a listener first. Then, the “Statements Of My Faith” (the album title) simply translates as it declares: “All That Thrills My Soul Is Jesus”. That just about sums it up.</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"><strong>Jeff Duffield is producer, arranger and orchestrator of this project. Jeff is no new-comer to gospel music, with over 500 albums to his credit. As his wife, I walk a delicate balance here, not to be obnoxious with kudos and promos, but just wait til you hear this. We all sat in the studio and cried, sensing God’s presence in the room! This is what matters. I’m honored too, to sing with Ann on a few songs as well.</strong></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;">
<strong>For more information on Ann’s new “Statements of My Faith” Hymns project, check her website: www.anndowning.com. For more information on Jeff Duffield Productions check his website: www.jeffduffield.com. And if you have any time left and you’d like to add a few comments to my banter and “Sue-biquitous” way of writing, speaking and blogging, I welcome you at www.sueduffield.com or by following me on: www.twitter.com/sueduffield. </strong><strong>She travels and sings. I travel and sing. She’s from Mississippi. I’m from New Jersey. She lives in Hendersonville. I live in Hendersonville. I’ve known about her since I was twelve years old. She’s only known me for the last four years. But the fast friendship simply began by meeting Ann at a local Hendersonville restaurant with friends. It went like this: “Hi Ann. You don’t know me, really. But I could have been a Downing years ago...”. She throws her head back and laughs. I laugh. It’s true.</strong>
</div>
<p><strong><br>That simple first encounter has led to an unusual and rewarding relationship with <a href="http://www.anndowning.com" data-imported="1">Ann Downing</a>. She comes equipped with solid friendships, both inner circle and casual, plus an arsenal of fans. So it wasn’t in my frame to even try to invade any of those areas, like a groupie or something. This was different right from the start. And yes, we are SO different. But in the things that truly matter? We are crazily alike. Ann has a renewed passion to take it to the next level, both spiritually and musically, to a new generation. So do I. That’s what friends do. They find the commonalities, the drive, the treasures, and they run with an “iron sharpening iron” cadence.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br>Later, a casual conversation over a Starbucks coffee (and many meetings since), creates this inspiring chit chat into a surprising mentorship. And probably not what you're thinking either. We're both experiencing the amazing and unpredictable transformation of ministry on the road. I’m the perpetual student of reformation, studying new paradigms and doing my homework on relevancy in music and ministry. And sometimes that relevancy pushes me to look back. Ann, the singer/songwriter, allows herself to be the student this time. And somehow, I’ve been blessed to be the teacher.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br>“Ann, have you thought about recording a hymns project?" I ask, fumbling over my words while eating a chocolate strawberry. "I know that Jeff and I could do this for you.” </strong></p>
<p><strong><br>Bold. Spicy. Out there. That’s what has transpired after a four year relationship. She knew this wasn’t a hard-sell, “trying to get a record deal” kind of discussion from me. This was straight from the heart. Timing and trust is everything. <br>Later, as we prepare to record at Oak Tree Studios in Hendersonville, TN, I ask Ann why she picked the hymns she's selected for this project. </strong></p>
<p><strong>She answers:“I had a few songs in mind from the beginning of the plan, then picked up my hymnal and started thumbing through, stopping to read each lyric. The words of the hymns just jumped out of me... the songs I feel I’ve lived with Him.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br>Ann’s earliest recollection of standards like “Footsteps of Jesus” and “Blessed Assurance” comes from being that vivacious little six year old from Oldtown Baptist Church in Mississippi. She tells me, “I think one major thing I’d like audiences to hear from these classics is a journey back through their lives. To remember the points along the way. Beautiful songs with more than just a melody, but music that reflects a real encounter with God.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br>“The hymns have stood the test of time... not just because of familiarity, but because of deep truth and about one’s walk with God. Trusting Him for the future, “ Ann adds.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br>Ann, in her own right, is an exceptional songwriter. But this time around, she’s allowing the pen of these former inspired writers to minister to her as a listener first. Then, the “Statements Of My Faith” (the album title) simply translates as it declares: “All That Thrills My Soul Is Jesus”. That just about sums it up.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br><a href="http://www.jeffduffield.com" data-imported="1">Jeff Duffield</a> is producer, arranger and orchestrator of this project. Jeff is no new-comer to gospel music, with over 500 albums to his credit. As his wife, I walk a delicate balance here, not to be obnoxious with kudos and promos, but just wait til you hear this. We all sat in the studio and cried, sensing God’s presence in the room! This is what matters. I’m honored too, to sing with Ann on a few songs as well.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>To order Ann's "Statements of My Faith" CD, click <a href="http://anndowning.com/admstore.cfm" data-imported="1">here</a>.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><a href="http://anndowning.com/admstore.cfm" data-imported="1"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/statements-of-my-faith-for-site-300.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="250" width="250" /></a></strong></p>
<p><em><strong>This is an exclusive article written for <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sgn.scoops.7?ref=ts&fref=ts" data-imported="1">SGN Scoops</a></strong></em></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110914
2013-04-05T19:00:00-05:00
2021-07-21T14:10:40-05:00
No Hiding What The Hyacinth Does
<p style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; text-align: center; margin: 0px;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/Hyacinth.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="411" width="308" /></p>
<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">This is a picture of my $4.99 "on sale" after Easter purchase: three beautiful white hyacinth blooms in cheesy yellow paper and a plastic pot. It's my welcomed house guest, sitting on my counter. Her aroma is dancing in every crevice of the downstairs. In every corner. But not just in the house, but in every part of my heart and brain..</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"><em>"It smells like a funeral home in here", says my husband.</em></span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">"No it doesn't. It smells like Easter Sunday morning; spring walks through Longwood Gardens; Grammy Allen's pungent perfume; Aunt Myrtle’s dancing thru the hallways with all five of her purses; it smells like the side yard of my childhood home on Dixie Drive; the Philadelphia Flower show; black patent leather shoes; the Wilmington Flower Mart in Rockford Park with the kids; K-Mart's Lawn & Garden section; it smells like Gangy Link's dinner table... and it smells like my life story," I whisper to myself.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"><em>"It still smells like a funeral home to me...", he adds.</em></span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">"No it doesn't. It smells like sweaty runny-nosed children laughing; Pop Pop singing his dumb-ditty songs; Annie's "peety jesses" (pretty dresses); and windows wide open with the stereo blaring. It smells like melted chocolate peanut butter eggs; week-old marshmallow ©Peeps; it smells like sitting in the bleachers watching David's roller hockey games, or the fragrance of crescent roll chicken baking; it smells like Phillies opening day baseball games; fresh cut grass clippings; pot roast simmering in the Crock Pot; Little Tykes plastic toys all over the yard; and my dad’s Honda Gold Wing in the driveway. I think it also smells like singing "Up From The Grave He Arose"; a Sunday School filled with little Bibles and chalkboard dust; a Chevy convertible top-down drive on route 47 to Cape May; eighth grade graduations and proms; little bow ties (that I refuse to let go of); trips to Vineyard Lake in Michigan; school buses with squealing kids and brakes; skateboards and kid-built wooden ramps in the cul-de-sac; neighbors laughing while sitting on their porches; it’s the smell of fresh earth-dirt and me (dressed in my hat, goggles and mask) chasing old Barry with a fired up weed-wacker!”</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">“It smells like the times in my life when I cried at loss and felt my stomach wrenching while trying to sing at my dad's funeral; it smells like standing motionless in a florist showroom, trying to pick out the right flowers for my mother's services. And yes, it even smells like losing a friend while my heart and heels sank in the soil at the cemetery. That's what hyacinths smell like to me," I whisper under my breath.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"><em>"You smell <strong>ALL</strong> that in those flowers?", he says.</em></span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px">Yes. I smell it all; the balance, the dance, the death, the joy and <strong>new</strong> life of - a hyacinth.</span></p>
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<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing:0.0px"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20Corinthians+2:14&version=MSG" data-imported="1">2 Corinthians 2:14</a> "....an aroma redolent with life."</span></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110913
2013-04-01T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:46-06:00
The B-I-B-L-E
<p><strong><em>My friend, <a href="http://www.chicagolina.com/2013/04/the-b-i-b-l-e/" data-imported="1">Kelly Burton</a>, is my featured guest-blogger today:</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><br></blockquote>
<blockquote><br></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<em>"Blessed are the Christians who challenge The Bible Series in its Biblical correctness yet be the same ones who sing scripturally incorrect gospel and worship songs."</em> -<a title="Sue Duffield" href="http://www.sueduffield.com/" target="_blank" data-imported="1">Sue Duffield</a>
</blockquote>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>We watched <em>The Bible</em> five Sundays in a row. Our church, like many, made it an event. We had in-home viewing parties, our pastor tied it in with his sermons, and we Facebook'd it like the Oscars or something. Basically, Christians who also happen to be fans or followers of pop culture get Excited when Christian-based entertainment is offered that is not cheesy, cheap, or that panders. It is rare. I grew up watching the 1977 miniseries <em>Jesus of Nazareth</em> and the classic <em>Ten Commandments.</em> In my little world, those were the gold standards of Biblical representation on film, and both have stood pretty well against the test of time. Then in 2005, Mel Gibson gave us the phenomenal <em>The Passion of the Christ.</em> That movie was so challenging to watch, so raw and beautiful all at once, but alas, it showed only a portion of Christ's life and a sliver of the whole Bible. I know I am one of many who wanted more.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.chicagolina.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/biblememes.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="bible memes" height="200" width="200" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.chicagolina.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/jesus.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="jesus" height="193" width="322" /></p>
<p><strong>The Bible miniseries is extra culturally-relevant because of the explosion of social media that has occurred since those other films were made. And from the night the very first segment aired, the debates began:</strong></p>
<ul>
<li>Why didn't 'they' show Joseph's coat of many colors, or Elijah and Elisha, or Ruth and Naomi, or _____ (other favorite Bible story)</li>
<li>Why are there LIQUOR commercials?! <em>My eyes! My eyes!</em>
</li>
<li>Why is Jesus so good looking (/smoking hot/etc)? {<em>Really, people? He is the King of Kings...why not?}</em>
</li>
<li>So and so did <em>not</em> say <em>that</em> at such and such a time. What gives, Touched-By-An-Angel Lady? You are going to mislead millions of people! (I especially enjoy<a href="http://jonathanmerritt.religionnews.com/2013/03/25/10-inaccuracies-in-the-bible-the-miniseries-not-the-book/" target="_blank" data-imported="1"> this article</a>... and pose to this author: Any of these 'kingdom' issues? <strong><em>Does it really matter if King Saul was peeing or pooping in the cave? REALLY?!</em></strong>)</li>
</ul>
<p>I think it is safe to say that many, many Christian viewers missed the point. And that got me thinking: <strong>maybe this series wasn't for <em>us</em>.</strong> I mean, if "we" are such experts on what the absolute correct details of the whole Bible are, and the order of importance of each, we don't need to see a series. And if "we" are so sensitive to what we watch that a Jim Beam commercial is going to send us straight off our holy high horses on to a bender, then by all means, we should avert our eyes. <em>{I'm not talking about people who struggle with alcohol here, either... I'm talking about the pious}</em> I choose, rather, to participate in the dialogue. I don't know "who" outside my circle was watching <em>The Bible</em>. But I do know that between <strong>11 and 14 <em>million</em><em> </em>people</strong> were watching it for 5 straight weeks. And what did they see?</p>
<blockquote>
<ul>
<li>God made us </li>
<li>we are flawed </li>
<li>God loves us anyway </li>
<li>God gives us amazing things, like children when we are infertile, strength to slay giants, protection from fires and floods and hungry lions, and second chances. And third chances. And many more chances... - </li>
<li>God came to Earth in the form of a man, His son Jesus. </li>
<li>Jesus served humbly, loved politically-incorrectly, ministered supernaturally, sacrificed completely, died painfully, resurrected miraculously, and ascended to Heaven after leaving us a Spirit to comfort and empower us. </li>
<li>The Spirit of God visited the followers of Jesus after His ascension, showed off by causing them to speak in different languages, and gave them power to Do His Work. </li>
<li>God continued to speak with, inspire, and enable His followers to preach the good news and live in service to Him.</li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
<p>I saw someone today call the last two hours of <em>The Bible</em> a "weak and almost unidentifiable Gospel presentation." I am not sure what he was watching. In particular, the representation of the "Upper Room Experience" (the different tongues, from Acts 2) was surprisingly 1) not offensive, 2) cooler than even I imagined it, 3) fairly self-explanatory. <strong>In my own opinion, majoring on the minors is the tragic flaw of the mainstream Christian churchgoer.</strong> Literally *millions* of people saw <em>The Bible</em> series and heard the gospel. As a result, they might accept it, reject, research it, argue it, love it, balk at it, understand it better, care about it more, debate it, or pass it on. <strong>But chances are, they will not forget it...because when God sends out His Word, </strong><em><strong>we are unable to ignore it.</strong></em> Regardless of what details went askew <em>(and I am willing to bet most of the quibbles are based on denominational theologies, but that's just a guess, and that's a whole other post...),</em> 14 million people saw and heard that God created us, Jesus loves us, and that He is the way, not to mention that He calls, equips, heals, and walks with us still today. I'm feeling pretty excited about 14 million people hearing that! That they saw it with modern special effects and attractive actors is a <em>method</em>, not a new gospel. Today, I visited my favorite entertainment website and saw they had <em>finally</em> paid attention to the series (and will mention here that it was the back page ad of their weekly mag a few weeks ago - prime real estate):</p>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.chicagolina.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Screen-Shot-2013-04-01-at-8.06.05-PM.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="EW on The Bible ratings" height="300" width="376" /></p>
<p>Along with this, celebrities <a href="http://www.derryjournal.com/news/local/smash-hit-for-roma-s-bible-series-as-celebrities-tweet-their-congrats-1-4955688" target="_blank" data-imported="1">Tweeted their congrats to the producers</a>... some of the same celebs who showed very little regard for Mel Gibson's work in 2005. Columnists from a variety of outlets are reporting on a hunger for 'religious entertainment' and a new interest in Bible stories. A game app has been developed, and there are already talks of spin-off that will focus on Jesus. Maybe it will all end up a twisted mess, or maybe, these pieces will continue to break barriers and speak to people who won't, just won't, pick up a Bible or go to a Bible study. <strong>Let's at least agree that turning their eyes toward Jesus is a good thing...</strong> The Bible - the book, not the miniseries, is available to read for free at many places on the internet. Check out <a href="http://youversion.com" target="_blank" data-imported="1">YouVersion</a> or <a href="http://biblegateway.com" target="_blank" data-imported="1">Bible Gateway</a>. <em>Coming Thursday: "The Top 10 Details That May or May Not Have Been Completely, Documentary-Level Accurate But That I Totally Loved About The Bible Miniseries."</em></p>
<p>(Comments are welcome) For more of Kelly Burton's writing, click <a href="http://www.chicagolina.com/2013/04/the-b-i-b-l-e/" data-imported="1">here</a>. </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110912
2013-03-26T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:45-06:00
Manic Mannequins!
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.today.com/style/real-women-mannequins-go-viral-1C8884904" data-imported="1"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/602664_510240455685022_699669207_n.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="320" width="278" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">Stay with me here - I think I may have found possible employment for my comedic future: Become a "real life" mannequin. Well, the truth is, when I first read this story circulating about the new thrust of truth in advertising, I was like, "Wow - I could qualify for that!" Then I realized that the story was about the mannequins and not real LIVE women BEING the mannequins. Then I laughed. But here's proof a nerve has been hit from one of the comments made on a picture from a Facebook page -</p>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 182px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The lingerie-clad mannequins, displayed in one of the stores in Sweden's Ahlens department store chain, have fleshier stomachs and fuller thighs than are typically seen in stores. Both are far from overweight, as many people have noted in comments about the widely circulated photo.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 182px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 182px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">“Those aren’t mannequins, they are real women, and they are gorgeous,” wrote one of more than 3,350 commenters on the Facebook photo posted March 11 by Women’s Rights News.</div>
<p><em>"The lingerie-clad mannequins, displayed in one of the stores in Sweden's Ahlens department store chain, have fleshier stomachs and fuller thighs than are typically seen in stores. Both are far from overweight, as many people have noted in comments about the widely circulated photo. “Those aren’t mannequins, they are real women, and they are gorgeous,” wrote one of more than 3,350 commenters on the Facebook photo posted March 11 by Women’s Rights News."</em> -by Eun Kyung Kim for <a href="http://www.today.com/style/real-women-mannequins-go-viral-1C8884904" data-imported="1">Today Style</a></p>
<p>Real women. Gorgeous. Real life mannequins, which is quite different than real LIVE mannequins. OK. I got it now. But even so, I could qualify as a stunt double for a real life mannequin. Kind of like being a mannequin for a mannequin...swarming cellulite, rolling belly lines, "very-gross" veins, flabby filler - but a huge smile! Yeah, that'll work! But you won't find me in the lingerie aisle. Nope. I'll be more than happy to be the plump and flashy modest model for the tarp, tent and outdoor arctic gear section of Cabela's. I'm no dummy... :)</p>
<p><em>There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds. <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+6:25&version=MSG" data-imported="1">Matthew 5:26</a></em></p>
<p><em>Also posted on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2013/03/manic-mannequins.html" data-imported="1">"Sue-biquitous!"</a></em></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110911
2013-03-24T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:43-06:00
I'll Leave It All Behind
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/lostfound.gif" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="266" width="328" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>My travel hap-hazard trademark: Leave a little bit of your belongings behind. Wish I could say I "leave a little bit of my behind behind", but that never works. :) Of course I left a newly purchased Clinique eye pencil in the hotel room at the Gaylord Texan over the weekend. My roommate "thought" she left her entire make-up case behind, but found it later hiding in the billowing mounds of her suitcase. Good for her. I approach the Lost & Found at the Texan and they suggest, after their eye-rolling sigh, that I just call back at another time. You see, they are FLOODED with items left behind. They let me take a brief tour through their section of the hotel where items are stored that are left behind. Everything you can imagine. Someone even left a "Left Behind" book behind. I had to laugh at that one. Finding my eye pencil in a box of mascaras, lipsticks, purses, eye shadows, brushes, nail polishes - was like wading through the discount containers at a flea market. Mine would still be in the Clinique box, since I didn't take the eye pencil out yet. But there was no box; and there was no reason to waste another minute to excavate a $12 purchase. (Chocolate brown eye-liner, in case you're feeling generous)</p>
<p>Can you imagine being on a recovery team of Lost & Found at a resort like this? I can't comprehend it, even after what I saw. Coats, hoodies, cameras, books, bras, magazines, ©Pam Cooking Spray (this one bothered me for a while), watches, rings, curling irons, vitamin containers, earrings - you name it. I only saw this arsenal of a holding tank at a glance, but I was in utter horror over the things we (consumers) leave behind in hotel rooms. I asked the woman at the counter, "How long do you keep all this stuff?" She responded, "Well, we're instructed to keep it until someone claims it." <em>You're kidding???! Who in the name of Tim LaHaye is going to claim their left behind ©Pam Cooking Spray??</em></p>
<p>Blissdom 2013 was incredible in every way. Writers/networkers/creatives - real living breathing women - come from all over everywhere. And the truth is, I not only left my chocolate brown eye-liner pencil behind, but I left my heart there too. I left my heart and twitter name with new friends, new inspirers, and new visionaries. I also left my heart behind with my peers and seasoned friendships, to blend with theirs, creating more community than ever. I was a student in the hallways, elevators, late night table-talk and carpet conversations at the Gaylord Texan as much as I was in the sessions. Maybe more. </p>
<p>You see, "behind" every great writer is a heart left behind. And this time, it's a good thing. Lost and found. Both.</p>
<p>(this post also on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2013/03/ill-leave-it-all-behind.html" data-imported="1">Sue-biquitous!</a>)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110910
2013-03-17T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:42-06:00
Footprints of Faith On The Beach
<p> </p>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I walked in faith believing that a weekend with these special women would be life-changing. It was. But it also came with a fight. A fight that later reveals the struggle is so worth it. If you've ever felt, thought or experienced any of the following before or during a women's retreat, well, girl - you fit right in.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I had a fight with my teenager right as I walked out the door. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I fell and twisted my ankle.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I have a piercing headache. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The traffic delays are awful. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The stress of leaving a husband, house and kids behind is mind-boggling. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">My baby is sick at home. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">No extra cash to buy anything once I get there..</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Can't fit in the clothes I packed. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The suitcase zipper broke. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The gal I'm rooming with is not my first choice.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">My sister begged me to come, so I gave in.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">It's gonna rain all weekend.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I just lost my husband, and I don't know if I can do this.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I was just laid off from work.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">My friend and I don't even go to this church.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The meeting room is either hot or cold.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">And the coffee? What about the coffee? Where's the hot water for tea??</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">You can't believe what I had to accomplish before even getting here...</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">My daughter is diagnosed with a terminal disease.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I don't even DO women's events.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I prefer not to retreat with anyone but my husband, really.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Is this going to be another one of those cryin'/confessin'/exposin' retreats? I can't do that.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Why was this location selected?</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I've never been to a retreat before.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I can't sleep in those hotel beds. </div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I should have brought my own pillow.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I lost my wallet.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">What is the speaker going to speak on anyway?</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The Advil was left on the kitchen counter.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">This food better be good.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">My kids keep texting me.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Seems like there'll be quite a generation gap, with the widening ages of women coming...</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">The younger girls are planning it this year.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I'm sixty-eight, and wondering, "Do I fit in anymore?"</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Probably the best time of the retreat (for me) will be the free time.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I hope they won't be making us do anything that's uncomfortable..</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">If the women had a clue of what's going on with me, I would SO not be accepted..</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Then Jesus arrives. We have a room reserved for Him. It's called the ballroom. Our welcomed, somewhat unexpected guest makes His presence known. We prayed that He would come, but truthfully, we were too busy thinking of all the distractions, the pain, the guilt, the organization, the details, the anxieties, the comforts - to even realize - that once we felt His presence, nothing else would really matter.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">I know many women who don't "do" women's retreats. It's just not in their bone marrow to desire a weekend away with unfinished, unmade, imperfect gals. I understand that. But I keep thinking, "If you knew, you would come." A sweet and salty sisterhood has a way of exposing our greatest strengths and our greatest weaknesses. All our differences actually make us the same. And all of our anxieties and imperfections encourage us to grab in desperation for the kraspedon (hem) of Jesus' garment.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">We now know. It's in desperation we find healing in Christ. All our inhibitions and worries seem foolish right now. The sabbath we've been looking for has been with us all the time... Jesus IS the sabbath.</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;"></div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 0px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">So, we walk, we run and we stand - for truth. And yes, we even sink our toes in the sand once more.</div>
<div></div>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/OCBeach_Condos.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="216" width="325" /></p>
<p>I walked in faith believing that a weekend with these special women would be life-changing. It was. But it also came with a fight. A fight that later reveals the struggle is so worth it. If you've ever felt, thought or experienced any of the following before or during a women's retreat, well, girl - you fit right in.</p>
<p><br><em>I had a fight with my teenager right as I walked out the door. </em></p>
<p><em>I fell and twisted my ankle. </em></p>
<p><em>I have a piercing headache. </em></p>
<p><em>The traffic delays are awful. </em></p>
<p><em>The stress of leaving a husband, house and kids behind is mind-boggling. </em></p>
<p><em>My baby is sick at home. </em></p>
<p><em>No extra cash to buy anything once I get there..</em></p>
<p><em>Can't fit in the clothes I packed. </em></p>
<p><em>The suitcase zipper broke. </em></p>
<p><em>The gal I'm rooming with is not my first choice.</em></p>
<p><em>My sister begged me to come, so I gave in.</em></p>
<p><em>It's gonna rain all weekend.</em></p>
<p><em>I just lost my husband, and I don't know if I can do this.</em></p>
<p><em>I was just laid off from work.</em></p>
<p><em>My friend and I don't even go to this church.</em></p>
<p><em>The meeting room is either hot or cold.</em></p>
<p><em>And the coffee? What about the coffee? Where's the hot water for tea??</em></p>
<p><em>You can't believe what I had to accomplish before even getting here...</em></p>
<p><em>My daughter is diagnosed with a terminal disease.</em></p>
<p><em>I don't even DO women's events.</em></p>
<p><em>I prefer not to retreat with anyone but my husband, really.</em></p>
<p><em>Is this going to be another one of those cryin'/confessin'/exposin' retreats? I can't do that.</em></p>
<p><em>Why was this location selected?</em></p>
<p><em>I've never been to a retreat before.</em></p>
<p><em>I can't sleep in those hotel beds. </em></p>
<p><em>I should have brought my own pillow.</em></p>
<p><em>I lost my wallet.</em></p>
<p><em>What is the speaker going to speak on anyway?</em></p>
<p><em>The Advil was left on the kitchen counter.</em></p>
<p><em>This food better be good.</em></p>
<p><em>My kids keep texting me.</em></p>
<p><em>Seems like there'll be quite a generation gap, with the widening ages of women coming...</em></p>
<p><em>The younger girls are planning it this year.</em></p>
<p><em>I'm sixty-eight, and wondering, "Do I fit in anymore?"</em></p>
<p><em>Probably the best time of the retreat (for me) will be the free time.</em></p>
<p><em>I hope they won't be making us do anything that's uncomfortable..</em></p>
<p><em>If the women had a clue of what's going on with me, I would SO not be accepted..</em></p>
<p><br>Then Jesus arrives. We have a room reserved for Him. It's called the ballroom. Our welcomed, somewhat unexpected guest makes His presence known. We prayed that He would come, but truthfully, we were too busy thinking of all the distractions, the pain, the guilt, the organization, the details, the anxieties, the comforts - to even realize - that once we felt His presence, nothing else would really matter.</p>
<p><br>I know many women who don't "do" women's retreats. It's just not in their bone marrow to desire a weekend away with unfinished, unmade, imperfect gals. I understand that. But I keep thinking, "If you knew, you would come." A sweet and salty sisterhood has a way of exposing our greatest strengths and our greatest weaknesses. All our differences actually make us the same. And all of our anxieties and imperfections encourage us to grab in desperation for the <a href="http://www.biblestudytools.com/lexicons/greek/kjv/kraspedon.html" data-imported="1">kraspedon</a> (hem) of Jesus' garment.</p>
<p><br>We now know. It's in desperation we find healing in Christ. All our inhibitions and worries seem foolish right now. The sabbath we've been looking for has been with us all the time... Jesus IS the sabbath.</p>
<p><br>So, we walk, we run and we stand - for truth. And yes, we even sink our toes in the sand once more.</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110909
2013-03-11T19:00:00-05:00
2020-01-16T03:36:41-06:00
A Tempting Savory Snack Attack
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<p>I grabbed the green bag of wasabi peas and put a handful on the table. At the same time, I grabbed a few kitty treats for Annie's teacup chihuahua. Yes, that's right: Lola loves the kitty treats more than dog biscuits. And it's apparent that I must love the kitty treats better than the wasabi peas, because I accidentally put them into MY mouth TWICE! A handful of kitty treats in my left hand; a handful of wasabi peas in my right hand. And the kitty treats win this juggling act. Again...Arrggh.</p>
<p>I posted this incident on Facebook and friends were responding, "Oh, the poor dog!" Poor dog - nothin'! She never even tasted a mere morsel of the wasabi's. Nay, I say. But "I" surely crunched a few <a href="http://www.petguys.com/-023100221080.html?productid=-023100221080&channelid=FROOG&utm_source=CSEs&utm_medium=GoogleShopping&utm_campaign=PetGuys" data-imported="1">©Whiskas Temptation Treats</a> (seafood medley flavor!) long enough to chew and spew (by pyloric valve, catapult-style) across the room. Very impressive. All those years of spittin' pomegranate seeds across the hedge from my front porch, pay-eth off-eth. :)</p>
<p>I wish I could say that I immediately respond (or spit out) quickly the things that repulse or defile me as a holistic and spiritual believer. To say I've been known to "chew the acuity fat" is a bit <em>obtuse</em> (<em>Obtuse</em>. I learned that word from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/character/ch0001388/quotes" data-imported="1">Andy DuFresne</a>!). It's not in good taste to join the ranks of off-color jokes and laugh along with the Hollywood-mindset and their raunchy ways. But isn't it interesting that I invite it into my house, as if an honored guest for the evening, whenever I turn on late night television, Netflix, or RedBox. You could say it's just in the background. The obscene language, vulgar improprieties, and shocking lewd filth. (There. I named it for what it is.) But is it enough that I am greatly offended and spew it out of my mouth or throw the controller out the window? I hope so. </p>
<p>I'm more sensitive than ever to the things that feed and sustain my soul vs. the things that turn my stomach and make me spiritually sick. This is what happens when you feast on good food and understand it's life-giving force. You know the difference. Quickly. And at first taste of the gross stuff, just stand back and hurl with me. I'll be right beside you. Kitty treats and all!</p>
<p> </p>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 70px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">Psalm 19:14</div>
<div id="_mcePaste" style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 70px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">There’s more: God’s Word warns us of danger and directs us to hidden treasure. Otherwise how will we find our way? Or know when we play the fool? Clean the slate, God, so we can start the day fresh! Keep me from stupid sins, from thinking I can take over your work; Then I can start this day sun-washed, scrubbed clean of the grime of sin. These are the words in my mouth; these are what I chew on and pray. Accept them when I place them on the morning altar, O God, my Altar-Rock, God, Priest-of-My-Altar. </div>
<p><em> Psalm 19:14 ...God’s Word warns us of danger and directs us to hidden treasure. Otherwise how will we find our way? Or know when we play the fool? Clean the slate, God, so we can start the day fresh! Keep me from stupid sins, from thinking I can take over your work; Then I can start this day sun-washed, scrubbed clean of the grime of sin. These are the words in my mouth; these are what I chew on and pray. Accept them when I place them on the morning altar, O God, my Altar-Rock, God, Priest-of-My-Altar. </em></p>
<p>I also find it whimsical too that the treats are called "Temptations". I LOL over that one for a while...</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/1001029_058496701222_A_400.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="300" width="300" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110908
2013-03-07T18:00:00-06:00
2013-03-08T11:58:03-06:00
The Chick-sterhood!
<p style="text-align: center;">Drive By Devotion #30 "The Chick-sterhood!" featuring Toni Birdsong... In the trenches with devotion to ministry, women's needs and being moms of prayer. That's what we do.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/IMG_5409.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="180" width="180" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
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<div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><div class="video responsive"><div class="video-container"><iframe frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wGwuuL1b1kU" width="560" class="wrapped wrapped"></iframe></div></div></div></div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110907
2013-02-20T18:00:00-06:00
2013-02-21T07:18:21-06:00
Capital Gains
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/42097808.IMG_4170.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="334" width="408" /></p>
<p>I noticed this gracious man, chatting with one of the restaurant workers. He catches my eye because he randomly shouts out the name of a State, and then someone from the other side of the room will yell out the corresponding Capital. Funny. Reality TV-like.</p>
<p>"Vermont!", he says.</p>
<p><em>"Montpelier!"</em>, she responds.</p>
<p>"Oregon...!"</p>
<p><em>"Salem!"</em></p>
<p>"Montana...."</p>
<p>(pause)...<em>"HELENA!"</em></p>
<p>Then there's a long pause because he see's that I'm paying attention. I'm a new audience to this impromptu sitcom-in-the-making. I'm also slurping my bowl of chicken barley soup.</p>
<p>"You wanna play?", nodding to me from his table. He orders the Lentil soup. "These girls get tired of me after awhile..".</p>
<p><em>"Sure"</em>, I say.<em> "But I don't know if I'm as good as I used to be on this stuff."</em></p>
<p>"OK - here you go - NEW HAMPSHIRE!"</p>
<p>(I pause, but pausing's a good thing. I just booked a women's retreat in NH, so I know this..)</p>
<p><em>"Concord".</em></p>
<p>"Good! See? You're good at this!" (actually he said, "at dis,"), then he laughs.</p>
<p><em>"No, I cheated. I just talked with a gal from New Hampshire yesterday, so it's fresh in my mind."</em></p>
<p>"Yeah", he says. "Not a whole lot is fresh in my mind these days. But that's why I play this Capital game. I don't think the girls here like it much when I do it, though."</p>
<p>I smile. Then I get the "look" from one of the waitresses, shaking her head and mouthing quietly to me, "He comes in here all the time and does this stupid little game with everybody. Hope he's not bothering you...".</p>
<p>That would be no. He's not bothering me at all. In fact, I now take the intiative..</p>
<p><em>"Maine!"</em>, I shout out loudly.</p>
<p>(silence) Everybody in the restaurant looks at me..</p>
<p>Then my elderly friend says, "Uh oh, that's a toughy. I sometimes get all those New England states mixed up. Wait a minute, I'll get it........ (long pause) (I wait)</p>
<p>"Augusta!", he shouts.</p>
<p><em>"YAY!"</em>, I respond and clap. <em>"You got it!"</em> Now both waitresses walk away and shake their heads at us.</p>
<p>Then he says, "Do you know that the nickname for Maine is the Pinetree State? Did you know that Maine is the number one producer of blueberries in the US? Did you know that about 40 million pounds of lobster is caught yearly off the coast of Maine? (I'm getting set up here..) "Did you know that Augusta is the most eastern capital in the US?"</p>
<p><em>"Wow. You sure do know a lot about Maine, and here - I thought we were just playing a capital game."</em></p>
<p>He looks down at his soup, and kind of mumbles to himself, "Yeah, that's what I thought too, until you brought up Maine. I like Maine. A lot. Haven't thought much about Maine until today."</p>
<p>I get up from my table, smile at my new friend and thank him for a wonderful conversation. As I got to the register to pay my bill, I hear him yell from the back of the room...</p>
<p>"Tennessee!"</p>
<p>(I shout back, turning my head) <em>"Nashville!"</em></p>
<p>Then his quieter voice says, "I figured you should know that one - I saw the tag on your car. You don't talk like somebody from Tennessee."</p>
<p><em>"I'm from Jersey."</em></p>
<p>"That figures."</p>
<p><em>"And you don't talk like somebody from Virginia either."</em></p>
<p>"Yeah, I know. I grew up in Maine......... HEY - VIRGINIA!"</p>
<p><em>"Richmond!" </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>What a capital conversation. I had everything to gain. Nothing to lose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(also posted on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/" data-imported="1">"Sue-biquitous!"</a>)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110906
2013-02-07T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:36:38-06:00
No Right To Bare Arms
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto1078664.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="169" width="450" /></p>
<p>More and more, I see women my age wearing sleeveless dresses, blouses, shirts - you name it. It's one thing if you're a size 2 and 25 years old, having firm, toned, targeted triceps... but many I see, don't. (Please cover them up. It's not pretty!) I also don't think the 50+ boney looking types look good either.. I don't get it. </p>
<p>At one time in my life, I had very firm athletic guns. Very proud. I could throw a softball through a window 30 yards away (and did, a few times!). But now? I have appendages resembling my grandma Ann Beatty's fluffy wingspan. Ugh. I have to say though, I miss her embraces; those enveloping cushiony hugs that felt like a warm blanket. </p>
<p>So, just as MLB spring training is right around the corner, I've decided to break out the weights. I'm even going to pack them in my suitcase and take them with me. They're only 2 lbs. each, but feel like 20 lbs. at this point. My goal is to turn these flabby upper-limbs into two sexy, sleek, firm branches. The trunk of this tree needs work too, but I'll deal with that later.</p>
<p>I have no right to bare arms just yet, but I will soon! :) I found this great site called <a href="http://www.ehow.com/video_12254320_weightlifting-exercises-upper-arms.html" data-imported="1">eHow mom</a>. Good stuff on getting the arms in shape! The better to hug with! The better to wave, praise and flag down a taxi - without knocking someone over. Who's joining me? :)</p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110905
2013-02-01T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:36:37-06:00
Laughter is a Habit
<p> </p>
<p>We're standing together in the Southwest A-List line. I'm A-22, she is A-23. She is talking on her phone when suddenly this astounding laughter burst forth cleansing the air! She has my attention. Sister Ann was wearing her habit; I was in my Phillies cap, telling her I had a "habit" too - at home - consisting of a pair of "holy" gray worn-out stretchy pants and I couldn't wait to get into them. Sister Ann laughs out loud, throwing her head back. Again - what a contagious laugh it is! All around us, travelers snicker and smile, thinking we're long-time friends. That would be no. We just met 2 minutes ago, but somehow the instant connection we feel comes from the sacredness and sarcasm of an infectious laugh. Sisters...</p>
<p>We knew each other, without knowing each other. I call this the merriment magnet. A good laugh can turn a boring moment into a sanctuary of healing. I asked Sister Ann to sit with me on the plane and this was her reply, "Oh boy, we better not. We might make a scene!" She was right. This flying nun and I must be separated. Too much at stake. One hundred and forty five passengers would be our captive audience, and we all know what a drug that is! </p>
<p>So, we aborted a potential Sister Act! :)</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/nun.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="358" width="358" /></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110904
2013-01-29T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:36:36-06:00
Whatever You Bury Inside, Buries You
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/images.jpeg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="171" width="295" /></p>
<p>I heard Dr. Janet Maccaro say on a network show, "Whatever you bury inside, buries you." She is the author of “<a href="http://www.amazon.com/WomanS-Body-Balanced-Nature/dp/1591859689/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1359649767&sr=1-2&keywords=dr+janet+maccaro" data-imported="1">A Woman’s Body Balanced by Nature</a>.” Sounds like a book every woman should read. A woman in balance. A nature balanced woman. A woman I know very well, comes immediately to mind. I'm planning on ordering this book for this woman. Her name is Sue. And she is me. :)</p>
<p>You might think of your year in seasons like, winter - spring - summer - fall. This sugar-addict-turned-holistic-attempting-dried-fruit-nut, used to categorize my year this way: Valentine candy hearts, Girl Scout Cookies, Easter peanut butter eggs, candy corn and Christmas cookies. That's my definition of the seasons. And since I'm aware of my insatiable desire for sweets (no matter what it is), I bury all the reasons why I have such an addiction to begin with: Sugar tastes good. It's an instant fix, an instant high with a deadly future.</p>
<p>I haven't completely deleted all sugar from my so-called diet or way of life, but I'm not eating <strong>nearly</strong> as much as I used to. There's an irony in this process too. While not giving in to my palate's desires while guarding the intake of "sweet", I uncover some unfinished business in my spiritual and emotional reality. How can this be? How in the world can something so simple as deleting sugar expose a raw nerve or a discovery about my inner self.</p>
<p>Health professionals are in agreement: Sugar is in just about everything you eat. It covers up anything that (on its own) doesn't taste good. Keeping that in mind, it takes great discipline to read labels, to learn what foods (natural or not) are low in a glycemic index, and to keep the sugary processed stuff out of your mouth. I'm not an expert but I read labels and I also see the huge difference in my body and disposition when I just stay away from the sweet stuff.</p>
<p>"So, what is this really about, Sue??"</p>
<p>I deleted the sugar (the fluff, the addiction, the cover-up) to find that there's no replacing what the power of the Holy Spirit can do.</p>
<p>I deleted the sugar (the trends, the competition, the rat race) to find out that God is more concerned about what my real motives are.</p>
<p>I deleted the sugar (the pride, the need to be right, the controlling spirit) to find out that my knees need to bow daily to Him and not the intoxicating toxin called ego. All along it's been the sugar of my own gospel that's been hiding all this stuff. </p>
<p>It's a good thing to overcome an addiction. Don't get buried in a sugar bowl. </p>
<p><em>Ironically, I speak and sing for events around the country called "Chocolate & Chuckles!" (I eat the strawberries!) And my latest album is called "Sweet Life". But the real teaser and twist to it all is - nothing, absolutely nothing - is sweeter than a real relationship with Jesus Christ. Now that takes the cake... No cover up here.</em></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110903
2013-01-24T18:00:00-06:00
2013-01-25T12:15:50-06:00
Crown Her With Many Crowns
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/canstockphoto6836356.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="334" width="500" /></p>
<p>I just spent a small fortune on my hair. Ironically, there's no real or definitive "wow" to worthy such a ridiculous sum of moolah. Oh, it feels great; the color is natural; about seven shades of light brown... the cut is nice. But I keep thinking about the mouths I could have fed with this outlandish expenditure on my coiffure. Man. It bugged me for days. Finally, I just said to myself, "Well, at least you feel badly. That's a good sign. And you'll never do that again, will you?" Nope.<br><br>I have a few friends losing their hair due to cancer treatments. They have NEVER looked more beautiful. Bald. Shiny. Bold. Stylish. Coping... Without walking in their brave shoes, I have no right to even try to comprehend their feelings of loss. But many of them assuredly tell me, "It's unnervingly freeing - to not worry about my hair anymore! There are many other issues that are worry-worthy and hair is the least of these!"<br><br>I agree. I pray diligently for my courageously gorgeous friends who have accepted their cancer challenge in stride. There ARE so many other things that are more "worry-worthy" than just what's happening folic-ly.<br><br>Survival. Joy. Connection. Living. Breathing.....to name a few.<br><br>So, as I read 1 Peter 5:4<em>, "And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away..."</em>, it all makes more sense than ever.<br><br>The glory crown. On a head with or without hair. And the best part is it's not like modern hair color, dyes or pigments. This glory crown will never fade away. Trust me - this glory crown costs a whole lot more than a sitting in a salon chair. It's price-less.<br><br>But at the hand of the master-stylist, it's also free.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(also read here on <a href="http://sueduffield.blogspot.com/2013/01/crown-her-with-many-crowns.html" data-imported="1">Sue-biquitous</a>!) <br> </p>
<div style="clear: both;"></div>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110902
2013-01-20T18:00:00-06:00
2013-01-22T16:15:40-06:00
The Sun Makes A Difference
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/image.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="225" width="300" /></p>
<p>Seasonal allergies don't even compare with seasonal depression, I'm told. Well.... I'm more than "told", I'm a victim at times too. We went over seven days without sunshine recently, and I was ready to go buy one of those sun lamp thingys. But then, the big ball in the sky made its appearance, and I just stared in the face of this unusual but welcomed light. I felt the warmth, the clarity, the orange through my eyelids. Happy. Smilies. Deep breaths. Even the sky looked bluer than ever. </p>
<p>Think how much greater it'd be if we continually kept our face towards the Son. Never letting a day pass without putting our face in His Word. The true Light. This far surpasses any physical attribute of the sun. For if we stare into the sun, we can become blind. But staring into the Light of Lights only purifies our vision. I "see" that now more than ever. Clearly. </p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110901
2013-01-16T18:00:00-06:00
2013-01-17T08:37:37-06:00
Ooooh! She Said A Bad Word!
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/what-did-your-child-learn-in-sunday-school-this-week.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="240" width="320" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;">(True story!)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">A friend told me that her little boy came home from Sunday School (what's that??) and tried to tell his mother that his teacher said a bad word. She tried not to make a big deal about it, but probed a little and asked a couple questions.</p>
<p>"Are you sure? What did she say?"</p>
<p>"I'm not allowed to say the word, mom. You told me I couldn't."</p>
<p>"Well, in this instance, Joey, it's OK to tell mom what the teacher said", she quickly responded.</p>
<p>Sitting on the stool in the kitchen, swinging his feet in the air, he blurted out, "It's the bad word that Daddy says a lot."</p>
<p>How could she not smirk? She looked away, then with a little composure came back to gaze at her 5 year old's face.</p>
<p>"Honey, you can tell me what she said. You won't be in trouble."</p>
<p>"Well, it's a good thing. How come daddy doesn't get in trouble when HE says it?"</p>
<p>"Joey, daddy DOES get in trouble when he says it, with me, anyway. But you still haven't told me what she said."</p>
<p>"OK, we were talking about camping and being outside and stuff, and she told us that Joshua in the Bible before he camped out and crossed over the Jordan, they left their "Shittim" home.</p>
<p>I'm sorry, but this is funny. :) LOL!</p>
<p><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Joshua+3:1&version=NIV" data-imported="1">Read Joshua 3:1</a></p>
Sue Duffield
tag:sueduffield.com,2005:Post/6110900
2013-01-15T18:00:00-06:00
2020-01-16T03:36:33-06:00
Sing With Me
<p style="text-align: center;">In a much simpler time, my New Jersey family (the Crane clan) gets together at Uncle Elmer's house. We gather around the piano and sing until the wee hours of the morning. This is where I learn to sing harmony. This is where I feel the inborn connection of singing from the heart and not just from the vocal cords. My grandmother (Anne Crane Beatty) insists that I learn how to sing alto. This is a command that I treasure, no doubt. She not only bangs out the notes on the piano for me, but she sings the part. She smiles and raises her head up and down, as if to flow with each note. Then she says, "Don't worry. You'll feel it. Listen to the melody line first and then listen for the part <em>underneath</em> the melody." I <em>hear</em> it.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">My mother always sings the melody. She's a soprano. Sometimes Aunt Ruth finds her spot too, singing whatever part is left. So, I am determined and destined to fit in somewhere. I search and find my home - the alto part. My voice is deeper than most little girls I know. I am so happy to find my place in the lower timbre. I am nine years old. And it is 1964.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Patti Page, Rosie Clooney, Marian Anderson, Nancy Wilson, Ethel Waters, Karen Carpenter and later - Ann Downing, Jeanne Johnson, Gloria Elliott, Marilyn McCoo, Kathy Triccoli and Oleta Adams would round out some of my favorite early and present influences. Great women with beautifully deep voice ranges. And all great enunciators too, never questioning lyrically what they're singing about. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">So where am I going with all this in 2013? Here it is: </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The greatest compliment a singer can receive (in my opinion) is when a listener says, "I love your singing. I love your tone and texture. I understand every word. But I especially love that you sing in a register where I can sing along with you too!"</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">There it is. The key. Many worship/inspirational/contemporary songs are difficult for most women to sing. Too high. But when they are keyed down to a lower register where a worshipper (musically inclined or not) can comfortably sing, YOUR song then becomes THEIR song. And if your ministry in music is truly about others, like you say, then this should <em>register</em> with you. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Sing your songs; do it with excellence. But get around the piano again. Teach, reach and enunciate and by all means, sing your songs so others can sing along with you. Together. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://sueduffield.com.hostbaby.com/img/historyjpgs_player50s.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="322" width="351" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Listen here for Sue's sample of singing "alto"... <a href="http://sueduffield.com/listen/" data-imported="1">Give Me Jesus</a></p>
Sue Duffield