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30838funnel cakeCan you feel it? Summer is winding down. The corn and soybean fields are ripe, and peaches are on their last iteration. The wind direction has changed too. The only signs of summer these days are the yummy foods at local barbecues and country fairs. My personal favorite is funnel cake.

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Have you ever made a mistake, but not recognized that it was a mistake until after you did it? That’s where I am today–in a state of remorse, reflecting on some really stupid things I did this week. Not that “stupid” is a stranger–I come face to face with my own mistakes regularly, mostly after I’ve made them. No matter how old I get, or how much experience I have, what Bill Johnson calls “the spirit of stupid” dogs me.It’s humiliating.

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The Lord God formed from the ground all the wild animals and all the birds of the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would call them, and the man chose a name for each one. (Genesis 2:19)

label: Pronunciation [ley-buhl]: noun, verb, -beled, -beling or (especially British) -belled, -belling.

  • a short word or phrase descriptive of a person, group, intellectual movement, etc.
  • a word or phrase indicating that what follows belongs in a particular category or classification.

–verb (used with object)

  • to affix a label to; mark with a label
  • to designate or describe
  • to put in a certain class;classify

I’ve been struggling this week with the hurtful ways we all label each other. I’ve been praying especially for a more redemptive way to deal with my own feelings. I’m not prone to being gentle about dealing with put-downs. Friends in college used to say that I had a Mac-Truck syndrome. When I was offended by something someone said or did, I turned into a female version of robo-cop. But that was yesterday. Today I tell my Father my feelings are hurt. Then I wait for Him to help me cope. It’s not easy “turning the other cheek.”

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ladies2

A sign on the front lawn of this farm’s main house reads “Land-O-Lakes.” Here are a few of the LOL ladies braving the noon-day heat. Most of them wander over to the tree line and recline in the shade until nightfall. There’s one pure white lady in the herd, but she doesn’t seem to notice that she’s “special.”

My friend Curt says these are Holstein cows.

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