There was a bad storm tonight. We knew it was coming and DC was a bit nervous at bedtime. I tucked them in, kissed them goodnight, spoke a blessing over them as I always do, and walked to the door. That's when I heard, "Mom, can you sit here in a chair and hold my hand?"
Melt my mama heart.
Of course I can!
So I sat there and held their hand. So sweet. So grown up. So still my baby.
A few minutes later, the power went out. I was on the potty which is a very uncomfortable place to be when the lights go out. Luckily, I happen to like baths with candles, because there were some tealight candles on the cabinet ledge of the tub, so I lit the candle and walked to DC's room.
I felt like Maria von Trapp leading DC down the hall to my room. Remember the scene with the thunderstorm?
DC really brought their pillow and comforter and nestled into a nest of blankets. I pet DC's hair and whispered words I have said since their birth: "sweet angel. mama's darlin. mama loves you sooo much." As I sensed DC slipping toward sleep, I wrapped my palm around their elbow and just comforted with my warm hand and my silence. My mama love needed no more words.
I'm so deeply grateful for this moment. DC is so growin' up, so smart, so capable, and so still my baby.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Novel Excerpt
I've been waiting for just the right moment, and I think this is it. I'm sitting on the balcony watching a sparrow drag a twig bigger than he is to the pile he's making in the corner. I hear doves and some other birdsong I can't identify. The air is cool but not uncomfortably so. Prolly 60 degrees or so. I want to share something with y'all. I'm writing a novel. A story of a young wife's spiritual and sexual awakening. Deanna is not me, but we do have a lot in common. I'd like to have her for one of my girlfriends. If Deanna had a blog, it would be in my blogroll.
I offer you Deanna's Eureka Moment, the moment where she experiences her sexuality as good and alive and believes that her husband's prayer might have something to do with it. You go, girl!
~
Excerpt from Awakening Deanna's Eureka Moment copyright Shula Jackson all rights reserved
Tom,
you would not believe how much fun I am having with that latest song you sent me. When I saw the song title Michael Buble “coming home baby” I smiled and when I saw it was a duet with Boys 2 Men, I rolled my eyes but I have to tell you Tom, the groove and the harmony got to me right away .
For the first time since you left, I pictured you not in the desert but in an airplane seat checking your blackberry and emailing your admin about next week’s meeting, then sitting back and enjoying a Pauli girl thinking carnal thoughts of me. I picture your eyes gleaming with mischief as you settle back In the seat as the fasten seat belt light comes on. It felt so normal. So doable to think of you coming home to me now, or at the weekend. Tom, it was such a relief to picture you on a voluntary business trip wearing a suit instead of shipped off to the desert wearing week a grimy uniform and and a sandy sunburn. Such a relief to imagine you in Bruno Maglis instead of army boots. so familiar and safe and such a relief and relief quickly fanned into longing. But a longing unsullied by sorrow. Just pure want. Before I knew it, my hands were slithering down my torso reaching for my thighs. For about two seconds I felt pleasure then that feeling of being ridiculous hit me like a wave, cold and shocking.
So I swallowed a few times and took a deep breath and lay there and closed my eyes imagining carefully the scenario of you sprawled in an airplane seat. This time I fantasized a first class seat. I figured as long as I was fantasizing we may as well give you an upgrade. In my fantasy, you called me and I heard that hungry purr in your voice that made the hair on my arms stand up and felt my nipples harden. I imagined telling you they were hard and I saw the red flush on your earlobes as you told me how hot that was. I giggled and told you to keep your voice down someone on the plane might see you hear you overhear us talking. You told me to graze my fingernails over my stomach and I tightened my abs involuntarily. When I traced my fingernail over my ribs and belly, my nipples got even harder and this tight sweet longing started to swell in my breasts, wanting you to touch me. I swirled my fingernail tracing circling patterns over my ribs up to my breasts. As soon as I cupped the curve of my breast in my palm I felt so ridiculous and absurd and pitiful. Tom I told you in my fantasy I whispered into the phone "I’m sorry baby I just cant do it. I just feel so ridiculous." The thought of letting you down hurt my heart so I abandoned the idea of touching myself while talking to you on the phone and I just enjoyed the music. “I’m pressin’ on baby now I wanna feel you hold me tight” and that didn’t feel ridiculous at all. And the music had so much heat and so much unashamed energy.
I stood up on the wood floor in my sock feet and began to sway my hips and sashay around the room. Getting wilder and wilder as the dance over took me and and before I knew it, a new fantasy occurred me to me. I pictured you sitting crosslegged in on the foot of the bed watching me and instead of my flannel pajamas, I imagined myself wearing a cute shorts outfit with my ponytail through the loop of a baseball cap just the way you like it. I danced over to the closet and dug through until I quickly found a pair of denim shorts and a jogbra. On impulse, I grabbed one of your good white dress shirts that I hadn’t taken to the cleaners. The good one one of the good hoarded ones that still smell like you. I grabbed a ballcap off your closet shelf and threaded my ponytail through and for the full effect, I put on my old comfy New Balances and strode into our room as though I had just returned from a quick shopping trip. I pressed the repeat button on the ipod and turned up the volume on the docking station. This was going to take longer than once through.
I felt energy surge into my thighs like it did after the warm-up of a workout. So stared hard at the rumpled bedclothes imagining you sitting there. I stepped into the open doorway and grinned at you and you grinned back. Your eyes taking in the my glimpse of my exposed midriff below your shirt knotted and tied Maryanne style. A little of surge of joy shot through my heart at the thought of you seeing me and checking me out like that. I felt the calm and powerful emotion of seductive sexy wife taking hold in my mind and heart. I began to dance and sway in the doorway, never breaking the tractor beam of eye contact. I reeled you in with my eyes and didn’t let you go. I began to smile without trying and you began to sweat. A trickle of sweat turning your blonde hair brown and curly at the temples.
I began to dance and sway and move my feet and swing my hips in time with the music. I kicked off my shoes and twirled and spun with the my sock feet gliding effortlessly over the wood floor. I closed my eyes and let the song take over. I spun and stepped and shimmied my shoulders and that timeless feeling took over. All I could think about all my awareness was over the joy of moving in time with the music and the secret sweet joy of feeling you watching and feeling your delight and sensing your arousal. Tom, in my mind I just KNEW deep in the pit of my stomach that you not only accepted my sexy wife persona but you LIKED her intensely and it was that glorious sweet combination of love and lust perfectly blended that I only get from you.
Your desire and acceptance and delight gave me courage, Tom, and picturing you there and I began to strip. My confidence and joy growing steadily then surging as I untied your shirt and shimmied my shoulders out of the sleeves and pulled it off in one fell swoop, tossing it over my shoulder. I began to sweat and my dance took on a beautiful fury. I unbuttoned my shorts without thought and continued to dance in my jog bra and bikinis. Before I knew it Tom I was naked and proud and not one teeny bit ridiculous. Joy was as certain as the twinges of exertion I felt in my calves. I finished the dance with my arms overhead in a ta-da posture with my hair spilling down my back. I felt so alive and so free and so unbearably gorgeous. I felt that marvelous certainty down in my belly that I could lead you around the room like a ring through your nose but using only eyes to draw you. I guess you could say I felt my feminine power. I drank it in, reveled in it. And in my fantasy you swept me into your arms and took me standing in the shower. This wasn’t hard to imagine as I shimmied and rocked against the jets in the Jacuzzi tub. Oh Tom. I wish you could have seen me. I’m such a hottie, Tom. I really believe it baby I do. Just like you’ve known all along but now I believe. Every time I take in a breath I feel this unbearable sweetness knowing who I really am as a powerful gorgeous woman who is miles away from ridiculous. Don’t quit praying now, Tom cause it might be working. Ya think?
Goodnight darling. I’m limp as a wet noodle and I want to shut off the laptop and hug your big feather pillow and drift off to sleep. I love you baby.
Your sexy wife,
Deanna
I offer you Deanna's Eureka Moment, the moment where she experiences her sexuality as good and alive and believes that her husband's prayer might have something to do with it. You go, girl!
~
Excerpt from Awakening Deanna's Eureka Moment copyright Shula Jackson all rights reserved
Tom,
you would not believe how much fun I am having with that latest song you sent me. When I saw the song title Michael Buble “coming home baby” I smiled and when I saw it was a duet with Boys 2 Men, I rolled my eyes but I have to tell you Tom, the groove and the harmony got to me right away .
For the first time since you left, I pictured you not in the desert but in an airplane seat checking your blackberry and emailing your admin about next week’s meeting, then sitting back and enjoying a Pauli girl thinking carnal thoughts of me. I picture your eyes gleaming with mischief as you settle back In the seat as the fasten seat belt light comes on. It felt so normal. So doable to think of you coming home to me now, or at the weekend. Tom, it was such a relief to picture you on a voluntary business trip wearing a suit instead of shipped off to the desert wearing week a grimy uniform and and a sandy sunburn. Such a relief to imagine you in Bruno Maglis instead of army boots. so familiar and safe and such a relief and relief quickly fanned into longing. But a longing unsullied by sorrow. Just pure want. Before I knew it, my hands were slithering down my torso reaching for my thighs. For about two seconds I felt pleasure then that feeling of being ridiculous hit me like a wave, cold and shocking.
So I swallowed a few times and took a deep breath and lay there and closed my eyes imagining carefully the scenario of you sprawled in an airplane seat. This time I fantasized a first class seat. I figured as long as I was fantasizing we may as well give you an upgrade. In my fantasy, you called me and I heard that hungry purr in your voice that made the hair on my arms stand up and felt my nipples harden. I imagined telling you they were hard and I saw the red flush on your earlobes as you told me how hot that was. I giggled and told you to keep your voice down someone on the plane might see you hear you overhear us talking. You told me to graze my fingernails over my stomach and I tightened my abs involuntarily. When I traced my fingernail over my ribs and belly, my nipples got even harder and this tight sweet longing started to swell in my breasts, wanting you to touch me. I swirled my fingernail tracing circling patterns over my ribs up to my breasts. As soon as I cupped the curve of my breast in my palm I felt so ridiculous and absurd and pitiful. Tom I told you in my fantasy I whispered into the phone "I’m sorry baby I just cant do it. I just feel so ridiculous." The thought of letting you down hurt my heart so I abandoned the idea of touching myself while talking to you on the phone and I just enjoyed the music. “I’m pressin’ on baby now I wanna feel you hold me tight” and that didn’t feel ridiculous at all. And the music had so much heat and so much unashamed energy.
I stood up on the wood floor in my sock feet and began to sway my hips and sashay around the room. Getting wilder and wilder as the dance over took me and and before I knew it, a new fantasy occurred me to me. I pictured you sitting crosslegged in on the foot of the bed watching me and instead of my flannel pajamas, I imagined myself wearing a cute shorts outfit with my ponytail through the loop of a baseball cap just the way you like it. I danced over to the closet and dug through until I quickly found a pair of denim shorts and a jogbra. On impulse, I grabbed one of your good white dress shirts that I hadn’t taken to the cleaners. The good one one of the good hoarded ones that still smell like you. I grabbed a ballcap off your closet shelf and threaded my ponytail through and for the full effect, I put on my old comfy New Balances and strode into our room as though I had just returned from a quick shopping trip. I pressed the repeat button on the ipod and turned up the volume on the docking station. This was going to take longer than once through.
I felt energy surge into my thighs like it did after the warm-up of a workout. So stared hard at the rumpled bedclothes imagining you sitting there. I stepped into the open doorway and grinned at you and you grinned back. Your eyes taking in the my glimpse of my exposed midriff below your shirt knotted and tied Maryanne style. A little of surge of joy shot through my heart at the thought of you seeing me and checking me out like that. I felt the calm and powerful emotion of seductive sexy wife taking hold in my mind and heart. I began to dance and sway in the doorway, never breaking the tractor beam of eye contact. I reeled you in with my eyes and didn’t let you go. I began to smile without trying and you began to sweat. A trickle of sweat turning your blonde hair brown and curly at the temples.
I began to dance and sway and move my feet and swing my hips in time with the music. I kicked off my shoes and twirled and spun with the my sock feet gliding effortlessly over the wood floor. I closed my eyes and let the song take over. I spun and stepped and shimmied my shoulders and that timeless feeling took over. All I could think about all my awareness was over the joy of moving in time with the music and the secret sweet joy of feeling you watching and feeling your delight and sensing your arousal. Tom, in my mind I just KNEW deep in the pit of my stomach that you not only accepted my sexy wife persona but you LIKED her intensely and it was that glorious sweet combination of love and lust perfectly blended that I only get from you.
Your desire and acceptance and delight gave me courage, Tom, and picturing you there and I began to strip. My confidence and joy growing steadily then surging as I untied your shirt and shimmied my shoulders out of the sleeves and pulled it off in one fell swoop, tossing it over my shoulder. I began to sweat and my dance took on a beautiful fury. I unbuttoned my shorts without thought and continued to dance in my jog bra and bikinis. Before I knew it Tom I was naked and proud and not one teeny bit ridiculous. Joy was as certain as the twinges of exertion I felt in my calves. I finished the dance with my arms overhead in a ta-da posture with my hair spilling down my back. I felt so alive and so free and so unbearably gorgeous. I felt that marvelous certainty down in my belly that I could lead you around the room like a ring through your nose but using only eyes to draw you. I guess you could say I felt my feminine power. I drank it in, reveled in it. And in my fantasy you swept me into your arms and took me standing in the shower. This wasn’t hard to imagine as I shimmied and rocked against the jets in the Jacuzzi tub. Oh Tom. I wish you could have seen me. I’m such a hottie, Tom. I really believe it baby I do. Just like you’ve known all along but now I believe. Every time I take in a breath I feel this unbearable sweetness knowing who I really am as a powerful gorgeous woman who is miles away from ridiculous. Don’t quit praying now, Tom cause it might be working. Ya think?
Goodnight darling. I’m limp as a wet noodle and I want to shut off the laptop and hug your big feather pillow and drift off to sleep. I love you baby.
Your sexy wife,
Deanna
Monday, March 9, 2009
Sex and Worship-More Rich Parallels
I love it when this happens.
Some mornings I wake up with a worship song playing in my head and a beautiful desire to sing that song and use the song to connect with God.
This was one of those mornings.
The song today was Everlasting God by Brenton Brown. Here's the song. Enjoy it. Hum it, sing it, whatever you like. I'll be back to say more about worship and relational eroticism. Hah! (grin) I thought that would get your attention. But for now, enjoy the song.
The whole point to the song is to love God and notice his fine attributes. The worshiper notices and brags on God's fine attributes. God doesn't worship us back. What does the worshiper gain? The worshiper gains a beautiful connection to the one they love and worship.
Let's take a closer look at how this plays out in Everlasting God. The worshiper points out, brags on, and adores the following cool things about God:
This SO reminds me of lovemaking!
The whole point to making love to your husband or wife is to love them and notice his or her fine attributes. The lover uses their words and their touch to notice and brag on their lover's fine qualities. Dr. David Schnarch has a beautiful term for a focused erotic adoring of your mate. He calls it Doing and Being Done. During a time of focused giving while Doing her husband, the husband might just receive it and revel in it for the moment. In the same way, God doesn't worship us back. What does the Doer gain? The Doer gains a beautiful connection to the one they love and worship. I don't' mean worship in the pagan sense of elevating the creation to the level of creator. By worship I mean like the old wedding vow, "with my body I thee worship".
Let's take a closer look at how this could play out in a husband Doing his wife. I imagine a husband might point out, brag on, and adore the following cool things about his wife:
Can you remember a time when you spent uninterrupted time in focused adoring of your mate? What was that like for you? How did your husband or wife respond? Did you ever consider adoring God from your heart? In a similar way? Does worship for you feel like the focused adoring of lovemaking or something different? What does worship feel like for you?
I'll share more as more ideas occur to me. The parallels struck me as quite beautiful today and I wanted to share them with you.
With love,
Shula
Some mornings I wake up with a worship song playing in my head and a beautiful desire to sing that song and use the song to connect with God.
This was one of those mornings.
The song today was Everlasting God by Brenton Brown. Here's the song. Enjoy it. Hum it, sing it, whatever you like. I'll be back to say more about worship and relational eroticism. Hah! (grin) I thought that would get your attention. But for now, enjoy the song.
The whole point to the song is to love God and notice his fine attributes. The worshiper notices and brags on God's fine attributes. God doesn't worship us back. What does the worshiper gain? The worshiper gains a beautiful connection to the one they love and worship.
Let's take a closer look at how this plays out in Everlasting God. The worshiper points out, brags on, and adores the following cool things about God:
- You are everlasting
- You are God
- You reign forever
- You are ours
- You reign forever
- You are our hope
- You are our strong deliverer
- You do not faint
- You do not grow weary
- You defend the weak
- You comfort those in need
- You lift us up on wings like eagles
This SO reminds me of lovemaking!
The whole point to making love to your husband or wife is to love them and notice his or her fine attributes. The lover uses their words and their touch to notice and brag on their lover's fine qualities. Dr. David Schnarch has a beautiful term for a focused erotic adoring of your mate. He calls it Doing and Being Done. During a time of focused giving while Doing her husband, the husband might just receive it and revel in it for the moment. In the same way, God doesn't worship us back. What does the Doer gain? The Doer gains a beautiful connection to the one they love and worship. I don't' mean worship in the pagan sense of elevating the creation to the level of creator. By worship I mean like the old wedding vow, "with my body I thee worship".
Let's take a closer look at how this could play out in a husband Doing his wife. I imagine a husband might point out, brag on, and adore the following cool things about his wife:
- You have such a tender heart
- At the same time, you are so lively and spirited
- The shape of your body is so alluring
- You are so loving
- You have such long, gorgeous hair
- Your breasts are absolutely beautiful
- I love seeing how your body changes as you become aroused
- You are such a loyal friend
- The little sounds you make when I touch you are so erotic
- You are so generous and giving
Can you remember a time when you spent uninterrupted time in focused adoring of your mate? What was that like for you? How did your husband or wife respond? Did you ever consider adoring God from your heart? In a similar way? Does worship for you feel like the focused adoring of lovemaking or something different? What does worship feel like for you?
I'll share more as more ideas occur to me. The parallels struck me as quite beautiful today and I wanted to share them with you.
With love,
Shula
Sunday, March 8, 2009
International Women's Day Synchroblog
The Bible is filled with stories of single mothers. There's one in particular that I want to highlight. from 2nd Kings 4:1-7
This single mother was a widow and was experiencing desperate financial need that put her children in danger. Like many single mothers in her situation, she went to a godly safe person and asked for help. The safe person she asked for help took the time to ask her about her situation and see how he could help. Once he found out what her resources were, he shared a plan on how God could multiply her resources and you guessed it he used other safe people to do it. Here's how the miracle went down:
The widow (how I wish we knew her name!) and her sons went throughout her community asking to borrow jars and bowls. They borrowed all they could. Then the mama and her boys went home, closed the door for privacy, and started pouring. See, all they had was a little bottle of oil, probably olive oil, and they took their little bottle and started pouring. Used in faith, that little bottle kept on pouring, kept on pouring, kept on pouring until it filled up all the other empty jars. This single mama sold all the oil and used the proceeds to pay off her debt, keep her sons out of danger and had plenty left over to live on. Good outcome!
What moves me about this story is the perfect blend of vertical and horizontal. In a vertical way, it was all about the single mother and God. Only God could make a small oil jar keep pouring like that. But the horizontal was equally important, the single mama and her community. Her safe friends who helped her. Without the jars from her safe friends, what would she have had to receive all that God was doing in her life?
There are many people in need in our world today. I'd like to ask you to pay close attention to the single mothers in your world. Be a safe person. Take the time to ask and listen and get to know what the needs are in their life. And be willing to be part of the miracle in their life. What is God doing in their life? How can you help them to receive that? collect it? capture it? contain it?
Be the empty arms that God can fill when you hug her. When God pours out good and blessing in her life, help her to receive it. Don't deny yourself the joy of being one of the jars of miracles in the life of a single mother.
Here's the whole story, from The Message:
4:1 One day the wife of a man from the guild of prophets called out to Elisha, "Your servant my husband is dead. You well know what a good man he was, devoted to God. And now the man to whom he was in debt is on his way to collect by taking my two children as slaves."
4:2 Elisha said, "I wonder how I can be of help. Tell me, what do you have in your house?" "Nothing," she said. "Well, I do have a little oil."
4:3 "Here's what you do," said Elisha. "Go up and down the street and borrow jugs and bowls from all your neighbors. And not just a few - all you can get.
4:4 Then come home and lock the door behind you, you and your sons. Pour oil into each container; when each is full, set it aside."
4:5 She did what he said. She locked the door behind her and her sons; as they brought the containers to her, she filled them.
4:6 When all the jugs and bowls were full, she said to one of her sons, "Another jug, please." He said, "That's it. There are no more jugs." Then the oil stopped.
4:7 She went and told the story to the man of God. He said, "Go sell the oil and make good on your debts. Live, both you and your sons, on what's left."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the Synch in Synchroblog: all the other dear ones who also blogged on this topic today
Julie Clawson on the God who sees
Steve Hayes on St. Theodora the Iconodule
Sonja Andrews on Aunt Jemima
Sensuous Wife on a single mom in the Bible
Minnowspeaks on celebrating women
Michelle Van Loon on the persistant widow
Lyn Hallewell on women who walked with God
Heather on the strength of biblical women
Shawna Atteberry on the Daughter of Mary Magdalene
Christine Sine on women who impacted her life
Susan Barnes on Tamar, Ruth, and Mary
Kathy Escobar on standing up for nameless and voiceless women
Ellen Haroutunian on out from under the veil
Liz Dyer on Mary and Martha
Bethany Stedman on Shiphrah and Puah
Dan Brennan on Mary Magdalene
Jessica Schafer on Bathsheba
Eugene Cho on Lydia
Laura sorts through what she knows about women in the Bible
Miz Melly preached on the woman at the well
AJ Schwanz on women’s work
Pam Hogeweide on teenage girls changing the world
Teresa on the women Paul didn’t hate
Helen on Esther
Happy on Abigail
Mark Baker-Wright on telling stories
Robin M. on Eve
Alan Knox is thankful for the women who served God
Lainie Petersen on the unnamed concubine
Mike Clawson on cultural norms in the early church
Krista on serving God
Bob Carlton on Barbie as Icon
Jan Edmiston preached on the unnamed concubine
Deb on her namesake - Deborah
Makeesha on empowering women
Kate on Esther
Doreen Mannion on Deborah
Patrick Oden on Rahab
Scot McKnight on Junia
Jonathan Stegall on Eve
InHo Kim on Sarah
Mimi Haddad on deception
This single mother was a widow and was experiencing desperate financial need that put her children in danger. Like many single mothers in her situation, she went to a godly safe person and asked for help. The safe person she asked for help took the time to ask her about her situation and see how he could help. Once he found out what her resources were, he shared a plan on how God could multiply her resources and you guessed it he used other safe people to do it. Here's how the miracle went down:
The widow (how I wish we knew her name!) and her sons went throughout her community asking to borrow jars and bowls. They borrowed all they could. Then the mama and her boys went home, closed the door for privacy, and started pouring. See, all they had was a little bottle of oil, probably olive oil, and they took their little bottle and started pouring. Used in faith, that little bottle kept on pouring, kept on pouring, kept on pouring until it filled up all the other empty jars. This single mama sold all the oil and used the proceeds to pay off her debt, keep her sons out of danger and had plenty left over to live on. Good outcome!
What moves me about this story is the perfect blend of vertical and horizontal. In a vertical way, it was all about the single mother and God. Only God could make a small oil jar keep pouring like that. But the horizontal was equally important, the single mama and her community. Her safe friends who helped her. Without the jars from her safe friends, what would she have had to receive all that God was doing in her life?
There are many people in need in our world today. I'd like to ask you to pay close attention to the single mothers in your world. Be a safe person. Take the time to ask and listen and get to know what the needs are in their life. And be willing to be part of the miracle in their life. What is God doing in their life? How can you help them to receive that? collect it? capture it? contain it?
Be the empty arms that God can fill when you hug her. When God pours out good and blessing in her life, help her to receive it. Don't deny yourself the joy of being one of the jars of miracles in the life of a single mother.
Here's the whole story, from The Message:
4:1 One day the wife of a man from the guild of prophets called out to Elisha, "Your servant my husband is dead. You well know what a good man he was, devoted to God. And now the man to whom he was in debt is on his way to collect by taking my two children as slaves."
4:2 Elisha said, "I wonder how I can be of help. Tell me, what do you have in your house?" "Nothing," she said. "Well, I do have a little oil."
4:3 "Here's what you do," said Elisha. "Go up and down the street and borrow jugs and bowls from all your neighbors. And not just a few - all you can get.
4:4 Then come home and lock the door behind you, you and your sons. Pour oil into each container; when each is full, set it aside."
4:5 She did what he said. She locked the door behind her and her sons; as they brought the containers to her, she filled them.
4:6 When all the jugs and bowls were full, she said to one of her sons, "Another jug, please." He said, "That's it. There are no more jugs." Then the oil stopped.
4:7 She went and told the story to the man of God. He said, "Go sell the oil and make good on your debts. Live, both you and your sons, on what's left."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the Synch in Synchroblog: all the other dear ones who also blogged on this topic today
Julie Clawson on the God who sees
Steve Hayes on St. Theodora the Iconodule
Sonja Andrews on Aunt Jemima
Sensuous Wife on a single mom in the Bible
Minnowspeaks on celebrating women
Michelle Van Loon on the persistant widow
Lyn Hallewell on women who walked with God
Heather on the strength of biblical women
Shawna Atteberry on the Daughter of Mary Magdalene
Christine Sine on women who impacted her life
Susan Barnes on Tamar, Ruth, and Mary
Kathy Escobar on standing up for nameless and voiceless women
Ellen Haroutunian on out from under the veil
Liz Dyer on Mary and Martha
Bethany Stedman on Shiphrah and Puah
Dan Brennan on Mary Magdalene
Jessica Schafer on Bathsheba
Eugene Cho on Lydia
Laura sorts through what she knows about women in the Bible
Miz Melly preached on the woman at the well
AJ Schwanz on women’s work
Pam Hogeweide on teenage girls changing the world
Teresa on the women Paul didn’t hate
Helen on Esther
Happy on Abigail
Mark Baker-Wright on telling stories
Robin M. on Eve
Alan Knox is thankful for the women who served God
Lainie Petersen on the unnamed concubine
Mike Clawson on cultural norms in the early church
Krista on serving God
Bob Carlton on Barbie as Icon
Jan Edmiston preached on the unnamed concubine
Deb on her namesake - Deborah
Makeesha on empowering women
Kate on Esther
Doreen Mannion on Deborah
Patrick Oden on Rahab
Scot McKnight on Junia
Jonathan Stegall on Eve
InHo Kim on Sarah
Mimi Haddad on deception
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