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No one goes to Norfolk by accident. I means its not on the way to anywhere else, so those who come, we must assume, want to go there either to visit of live. And in Kings Lynn, out in the bandit country of west Norfolk, you really only come here because you're going to Kings Lynn, or gong on to Hunstanton or trying to escape via the A17.
I was posted to RAF Marham at the beginning of the 90s for two years, though before getting married we used to go to The Globe and other such delights, the finer points of its trading past were somewhat lost on me.
So, a long held plan was to revisit, so when Jools suggested I go away for a few days, King's Lynn was the answer.
The answer to the question nobody asked.
I found a cheap place to stay, paid, and so come Tuesday morning, after coffee and packing, Jools dropped me off at Dover Priory, where I found that they only sell "anytime" returns at that hour, and the £88 return I saw online the night before was going to be that amount for just the single to get me there.
Sigh.
I paid, and hoped I could get something cheap on the way back on Wednesday, though I was seeing how I could use this to factor in a stop off in Ely on the way back.
I took a seat once the train pulled in, and a working couple, colleagues at Saga, sat opposite, and she began talking about how undervalued she was there, and how people were not promoted on merit, and then they left, the company had to pay double to get someone to take over those tasks.
Such a familiar story.
Anyway, the train wasn't full, so all very pleasant, and just a walk over the road to King's Cross, so time to go to M&S for something for breakfast, then ambled over only to find I had just 90 seconds to gallop over the platform 9 to get the train, which was three quarters full.
The young lady in the seat in front took an hour to re-apply her make up using the phone camera as a mirror. I don't know, but it that normal amount of time to achieve the "natural" look?
I don't know.
I ate my fruit and pastrami sandwich to follow, eating as the countryside rolled by, happy in my air-conditioned chariot.
Through Cambridge, where most passengers got off, and off into the fens beyond and north, where once upon a time this was endless mires, marshes and stagnant pools, where the Isle of Ely, once an actual island, is visible for ten miles before arriving,
Tomorrow, I thought, I'll explore the Isle of Eels once again.
The train eased out and after the junction with lines leading north west and east, we headed north to Downham Market and King's Lynn beyond.
A family got on at one of the small intermediate stations, two older parents to a hyper ten year old boy who wanted everything, but out here in the wild west, there was no signal, phones could not be pared, so there was just looking out the window at the flat line of the horizon and the drainage sewers and sluices.
We arrived in King's Lynn just before eleven, and the heat hit like it did when I worked in Vegas. I walked out of the station, over the main road, the family following me as the father tried to cope with two suitcases, their son and a cowardly small dog, stopping every ten yards to collect everything that had been dropped.
They had to get to the bus station to go on to Hunstanton or some other glittering resort dotted with casinos and pleasure beaches.
Their bus was in, waiting.
I walked on.
I walked through a shopping centre exotically called "The Vancouver Centre". I couldn't see nothing in common, but who knows?
I walked through and along the main street to a junction, where I felt I should sit down and have a swig of the remaining pop I had. I was outside the King's Lynn branch of Wimpy.
Wimpy, a British fast food chain based on at table slow food, named after a character in Popeye, so of course King's Lynn had a huge branch.
There were signs to the historical quarter, so after a while I set off, heading for the Purfleet Sluice and the Customs House.
Did I mention it was hot?
I got shots, then walked on to the quayside, where candy-coloured buoys were lined up for their next duty, and behind the quay, a warren of cobbled lanes with brick houses and courtyards and warehouses, showing how prosperous the town clearly once was.
A lady saw me taking shots and made sure I came to her private yard to see the large, church-like tower built to keep an eye on incoming ships.
It was getting hotter.
I walked down the quay, then into Saturday Market Place where there is a market on Saturdays. One side is lines with the Guildhall and the other the Minster church.
I took shots of the Guildhall, and it being half midday, went in search of food and drink, and came upon Wenns Chop and Ale House, where I asked if they had cold bears (beers). They did.
I ordered a pint of Coke and burger and fries.
The place was quiet, but efficient, with enough staff to fill glasses and bring sauces.
I eat up but order another half pint of coke to build fluids up, then after paying walk over to the Minster to take shots, before an organ recital meant children and photographers made their escape. Not that I don't like organ music, church organ music, but this had a shrillness to it, that wasn't altogether pleasant.
It was then I received the call.
The room where I was booked into, had a flooded toilet and so I would not be able use it, so there was nowhere to stay. Something was mentioned about a refund, but I was in town, there was a music festival on and almost no rooms.
I tried a hotel portal, got a room for eighty quid, like I had a choice, then repaired to a pub for some more cold beer.
I watched the Hundred cricket as I drank, and people watched a family as they tried to claim control over their finances after falling out with a son who had messed up their mail be redirecting it, or something.
So calls were made between pints, games of pool and going outside for a gasper.
I drank on, and the cricket carried on.
I had three pints of ice cold German beer. It was wet and cold, which is all that mattered as the hottest part of the day blazed down outside.
It was five, so I had better find my room for the night. Now, here's the thing with these hotel portals: you don't know if its an hotel or just a room in a house.
This was a room in a house.
And it was a 15 minute walk, but in temperatures of 33 degrees back round to the station and then on a bit, and I had to check the address twice as I walked past it three times.
I had been texted a code to get in, and a code for my room on the top floor.
So far so good.
The room as in a converted attic, a foot from hundreds of tiles that had been baking all day in the sun. It was like an oven.
I should have gone to the station and went home, but using the desk fan, I cooled down, though any time away from the bed and the fan meant I was sweating like a waterfall in a couple of minutes.
I hoped it would cool down. I had a shower in the bathroom one floor down, went back up and was as hot and sweaty as before in ten minutes.
There was water to drink, and I wasn't hungry, so I whiled away the evening until dusk, when I collapsed on the bed and facing into the full force of the fan, fell asleep.
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Kings Lynn is Norfolk's third largest town, but it feels bigger than the second largest, Great Yarmouth, because it is so far from anywhere else. Lynn is proudly and inarguably the centre of its large rural hinterland, the gateway to the Ouse delta and the largest town on the Wash.
It is a fascinating town. In the middle ages, Lynn was one of the dozen biggest towns in England, and until 1960 or so it could boast one of the finest medieval centres of any town in England. During the course of the next twelve years, about a quarter of this was destroyed, to be replaced by dull, soulless pedestrian shopping concourses; these are now themselves being taken down, and replaced with superstores and car parks. Given that traffic in the town is already horrendous, you might think that they'd be better off trying to keep traffic out rather than attract it.
But much remains of Medieval Lynn, and of Georgian Lynn as well, for it was a wealthy merchant town until well into the 19th century. The geography of the town is complex, but satisfying. As the Ouse silted up, the mouth of the river moved westwards, and the town was extended towards it in a series of phases. Parallel with the river front, and several hundred metres from it, the main street connects two open spaces; at the north is the wide square of the Tuesday Market, and at the other is the more cluttered Saturday Market. This was the heart of the town at the end of the medieval period, and contains the finest buildings, including the magnificent 16th century guildhall. Opposite is the vast bulk of St Margaret. The church's three towers rise high above the Saturday Market and the narrow streets around, the huge bulk of the nave and chancel brooding at the ends of openings, new and intriguing vistas presenting themselves. It is one of the finest urban medieval moments in England.
St Margaret is far bigger than any of the Norwich medieval churches, and is second in size in East Anglia only to St Nicholas at Great Yarmouth, which is the largest medieval parish church in England. From the west, the overall layout consists of two western towers separated by a west front, a clerestoried and aisled nave, a central tower above a crossing with transepts, and a clerestoried chancel. Pevsner, who has measured it, tells us that the building is 235 feet long from end to end.
To understand it, it is best to consider the order in which it was built. A Norman Priory church came first, probably on the site of the present nave, but little trace of it survives. The Priory was founded in 1101, five years after Norwich cathedral, by the same man, Herbert de Losinga. The Priory's fortunes burgeoned, and about the middle of the 12th century the two massive towers were begun at the west end. They would take almost a century to complete. The south-west tower is pretty much in its original form, changing from Norman to Early English as it climbs. The tower to the north-west was either not completed, or was for some reason taken down and replaced, because what we see today is largely the work of the 15th century. It would continue to cause trouble, as we shall see.
In the 13th century, the body of the church was rebuilt, the vast chancel being added in the height of the Early English style, with a walkway in the clerestory. The east window was added in the 15th century; it is a curious rose shape, although we need to be aware that it was reconstructed by Ewan Christian as part of a 19th century restoration. Beneath it, in the external east wall, are three large and elaborate image niches, which may have contained a rood group. Because of the layout of the town, this east front is hidden away in a narrow side street, and is easily missed.
Also in the 15th century, the crossing tower was surmounted by a lantern, probably a bit like that at Ely cathedral, 20 miles away. The nave was completed, and the upper exterior of the chancel was redone, retaining the internal structural features. The west front with its porch and massive window was completed, as was the north-west tower. Both towers were surmounted by steeples, and the church was now at the peak of its glory, spired, battlemented, replete with gargoyles and grotesques. It must have looked like a cathedral.
The Priory was dissolved along with all the others in the 1530s, and after the Reformation the church fulfilled its new role as a large, urban protestant preaching space. The lack of emphasis on the upkeep of buildings in the 17th and 18th centuries served it ill, however. About midday on the 8th of September 1741, the spire and the top of the north-west tower came down in a storm, right into the heart of the nave, pretty much destroying it.
It took five years to replace the ruined nave, during which time the congregation retreated into the chancel. The rebuilding was the work of the architect Matthew Brettingham, most famous for Holkham Hall. Perhaps because country houses were being fashionably designed in a kind of proto-gothick at this time, Brettingham used the same language for the nave of St Margaret; intelligently, because there was no liturgical imperative for the aisles, arcades and clerestory. The result is curiously modern, a smoothed-off Gothic with wide, languid arches and elephantine pillars. The lantern tower was removed, as was the spire on the south-west tower. Externally, that was pretty much it; the Victorians tarted up the transepts and removed a row of shops that had been built on to the north side (hence the curious north porch with its tall arch to the east). The clock on the south-west tower shows the time of high tides.
And so, to the inside. This is one of the most welcoming of all urban churches. It is open everyday, and the people greet you warmly as if they're really grateful that you've come; which they probably are, because Lynn is a socially deprived area and benefits from tourism when it can. There is a little cafe in the south transept where you can get a cup of tea and a bun. It is possible to enter from the north porch, which is done out really well in a full-on 1960s style in modern glass and slate. You certainly should not miss this, but for the full effect it is really important to enter St Margaret for the first time through the west doors. As you go in, notice on your right the markers that record successive town floods in the 19th and 20th centuries.
You step into a vastness that swallows all sound. The arcades stretch away into the distance like a forest glade, and you will see straight away that, as little as the Victorians found to do outside, no effort was spared by them internally to bring the church up to scratch. An acreage of shiny encaustic tiles spreads before you, and the windows to north and south are all full of Victorian glass, most of which depicts Saints, but only some of which is good, I'm afraid. George Gilbert Scott was responsible for the restoration of the nave, and the font is, again, not the best example of 19th century work, although it looks rather imposing on its high pedestal. However, be patient; the nave is not St Margaret's best feature.
Brettingham had raised the nave floor, and when Scott lowered it again he revealed the bases of the original pillars of the arcades, which are curiously elaborate, like elephants feet, under Brettingham's columns. The nave is a good place to wander; it is not a complex space, but each vista is pleasing, and some are of interest; note the way that the west end of the south aisle ends in a Norman arch, and you can see the roofline of the original Norman church above it. There is a massive Norman pillar and arch facing south from the base of the north-west tower. The soaring chancel arch is surmounted by a Charles II royal arms, which looks a little lost up there.
You step beneath the chancel arch and immediately it gets more complex and more interesting; you wonder at what must have been lost in the nave. Now the eye is drawn by Bodley's 1899 reredos, a glorious Flemish-style confection of angels and Saints. In such a large sanctuary it does not impose as it would in a smaller church, instead providing a backdrop to the complexities of the chancel. In the middle of the chancel is one of those big latten eagle lecterns with lion feet, so familiar from this part of Norfolk. This is the best of them, I think, being from the same workshop as the one at Redenhall. A modern sculpture of the Blessed Virgin and child has been intelligently placed to the north of the sanctuary. Again, the hugeness of the space means that nothing dominates, and allows you to take in the whole chancel with all its details.
Most striking of all is the clerestory. Unusually, it has a walkway within it, the inner pillars being 13th century and the exterior windows 15th century, so the arrangement must have existed from the start. The south chancel aisle extends to the east end, tapering slightly, while that to the north is truncated. The aisles are separated by some of the most elaborate screens in any Norfolk church, wonders of intricate and characterful carvings. In particular, the little figures that form the conceits of tiny corbels to the arcading. The best date from the early part of the 14th century. The capitals to the arcade are also full and elaborate, full of intricacies. Shadowy beyond, the chancel aisle chapels are secretive places, each furnished in a modern style for private prayer.
Ewan Christian was responsible for the 19th century restoration of the chancel, and it was much more successful than Scott's work in the nave; even the encaustic tiles lend a sympathetic rigor to the place, as if acknowledging that this is the business place of the church. There are reminders of the Priory status of St Margaret before the Reformation; return stalls with misericord seats fill the western part of the chancel. The best of the seat carvings features a mysterious green man, but all the heads are full of 14th century confidence.
Coming back into the crossing, there is another screen which is equally remarkable in its own way. This is across the north transept, which now houses the 1754 organ. The lower part consists of blank arcading, while above there are two levels of open arches. It is dated 1584, but as well as Thomas Gurlin, the mayor, who was perhaps the donor, it also records James I becoming king in 1603. The wood is a delicious chocolatey brown, as evocative of its age as the 14th century screen in the chancel.
East Anglia's two largest brasses are reset in the south chancel aisle. They date from the middle of the 14th century, immediately after the Black Death; they depict former mayor Adam of Walsoken, who was carried away by it, and Robert Braunche, who was himself mayor at the time. They are not English brasses, but Flemish, being uncut latten plates, and reflect Lynn's links with the continent. Each man is depicted with his two wives; either bigamy was a privilege extended to burgesses of 14th century ports, or the first died and each man then remarried. The plates are about two metres tall, and there are elaborate illustrations at the feet of the figures.
St Margaret is a pleasing church to visit; it is not a complicated building, but repays time spent poking into its corners. Peter and I were in here for nearly an hour without getting bored. As with many big, Victorianised buildings, there is not really much of an atmosphere; but unlike the Lavenhams of this world this is not a pompous building. It has a feel of the thousands of ordinary townspeople who have known it over the centuries as their church; less a matter of civic pride, than recalling busy lives lived in its shadows.
Simon Knott, November 2005
Christine Lagarde (ministre de l’Economie, des Finances et de l’Emploi) - Jean-Louis Borloo (ministre de l’Ecologie, du Développement et de l’Aménagement durables) - Roger Karoutchi (Secrétaire d'Etat chargé des Relations avec le Parlement)
New Mexico has an official state question - "Red or Green?". It's a question commonly heard at restaurants here, where waiters will ask customers "red or green?", meaning what kind of chile do they want with their burrito or enchilada. If you're undecided (maybe new to that restaurant or haven't tried their red yet), or you're just visiting and have no idea, you can order "Christmas" and get red and green.
So when you see a scene like this and you think "chile" you're either a New Mexican, you're on your way to becoming a New Mexican, or maybe you're just hungry.
Time for breakfast, maybe I'll have one of those green chile bagels...
So, after about a year of delays, Hasbro has finally shipped out the Pulse Victory Saber sets.
If you collect Transformers, or are aware of the fandom, you'll probably have heard that this set is not just highly anticipated, but also, that the finished product bears the tried and true Hasbro traditions of questionable design choices and QC concerns.
Having opened mine, I can definitely confirm both.
Victory Saber isn't one of those characters that is well known if you have no interest outside the American based universe, seeing how we skipped several Japanese G1 seasons here in North America.
Victory Saber is incredibly popular overseas as his look is not only a deviation from the typical Convoy/Prime aesthetic, but he literally has Gundam DNA in him - I'm not super familiar if it was the entire character, but you can at least see it very clearly in Star Saber himself.
The character/toy introduced some interesting concepts to the Transformers universe, though it's probably best known for the Brainmaster concept, which itself is a spin off of the Headmaster concept - tiny figure becomes part of a larger figure (in this case not so much the head but rather the consciousness of the larger robot head) which then plugs into body to form a larger robot, which was sort of used as recently as the Titnas Returns line.
The last time Victory Saber, as a Takara/Hasbro release, was back in the 2000s with the Robotmaster version, which were small, Deluxe sized figures and were of course not retailed here. There were hopes that there would be a Masterpiece version, as a Star Saber was released quite a few years back now, but they never followed it up with a Victory Leo to complete the set.
The Pulse set, including all of the bonuses for meeting sales targets, consists of four figures and various accessories. There is the Leader sized Star Saber, Voyager sized Victory Leo, and the two... I have no idea what they're called these days, but back in the day they were called Micromasters, Holi and Fire.
To keep things relatively short and concise, you're not going to see any mind shattering feats of articulation. These figures are, at the end of the day, mainline level releases, which basically means they'll do what typical figures of their size class can, though I will admit it was nice to see that waists were present on most of the larger figures, minus Victory Leo.
QC wise, there's the typical Hasbro material, joint, and paint issues. But that's not where things end - that would have made me a happy camper.
No, we have questionable packaging for a $180 USD set - better materials would have been nice, but at the very least you figure they could given us a clamshell rather than those plastic ties, which not only make repacking the figure impossible, but can, and have, caused paint damage.
Secondly, there's that sticker you have to apply. I get that you can't really paint that particular type of plastic, but why am I having to do it at all? Could it be because it's very labour intensive, and that the sticker is so flimsy you're likely to destroy it by just taking it off the backing?
Thirdly, there's a hair or a bristle under the chrome paint applications, which as you can imagine is very visually distracting. Some users have actually taken to covering it up with mirrored tape... which begs the question of either why they didn't use the tape in the first place, or how did they screw it up.
Finally, and here's my favourite - Hasbro actually forgot to cut a hole into the body of Saber. This hole prohibits the combination of the nose cone with the jet mode, which would have made transformation impossible if I hadn't spent an hour of my life fixing it.
The worst part is... I got off lucky. Some customers have reported even more aggravating things, like missing parts.
So overall, somehow Hasbro managed to make me work more and be more annoyed with a product that is priced at a higher than normal price point.
Depuis 2002, j'ai régulièrement défendu à l'Assemblée Nationale des propositions qui se retrouvent dans ces résolutions, mais la droite a toujours refusé d'agir concrètement. Lors de la séance des Questions au Gouvernement du 5 Mai 2010, j'ai donc mis le Secrétaire d'Etat chargé du Logement et de l'Urbanisme, M. Benoist Apparu, face à ses responsabilités. Alors que l'ensemble des acteurs du logement sont d'accords sur les mesures urgentes à prendre pour mettre un terme à la crise du logement, l'Etat est en effet le grand absent!
Woah, major editing was required this morning.
Poor Ghost. Zuki did not warn him that these things happen.
Ghost questioned my skill and my organization, so I took him for another ride.
My last moment at work today was someone yelling at me because they swore that they turned in their forms twice on two occasions. And he was so upset because he swears this was the second time.
No, if something comes across my desk, I enter it two times in the two databases. Granted, I've been scattered with everything going on lately, but with 600 new pieces of paper coming in, the odds of me messing it up TWICE with ONE family is pretty slim. To go overboard, I checked every file AROUND said file. Still didn't turn up. And I wouldn't have filed it before entering it twice.
"So what are you going to do for me?"
I told him I couldn't do anything more for him. The paper isn't here.
"How about an apology?"
I'm sorry there was confusion, but again, the paper is not here.
So after he was standing over me as I was sitting and he started to get angrier and angrier at me, I just had to leave. While I never felt physically threatened, I was shaken. I'm glad he did leave the office before I just went off the hook. I should have stood up and taken that whole height advantage which can quickly diminish bad situations with men, but I didn't. That's the only thing I regret.
I have a lot of self-doubt, but I guarantee, GUARANTEE that I did not miss this and would stake my life on not having done it twice. It's the one stupid thing I do all the time, neurotically, repetitively. I make new mistakes with filing my business stuff, but that's because I haven't done it over and over and over again.
Oh, I regret blushing and almost crying because then it looks like I was in the wrong. That is SO irritating. It's my reaction to having to deal with being bullied when I'm really not allowed to speak my mind. Just a back handed apology that he probably didn't catch onto until after he stormed out.
Part of a portraiture project. I asked the sitters a question and recorded their facial expressions while they thought of the answer.
Taking the opportunity of having the interim mayor Michael Applebaum announce improvements of the Bixi service, the press questionned him about the firing of city manager Guy Hebert.
Guy Hebert has been fired because he tried to get rid of the chief of the Montreal Police (SPVM), Marc Parent. The latter was looking at some suspect transactions which Guy Hebert could have been hiding. The city mayor, Michael Applebaum, however denied that Hebert was doing any wrong, saying that he had only done something that was beyond his job.
Montreal, QC, Canada.
19/03/2013.
davidvilder.photoshelter.com/gallery/Montreal-Politics/G0...
www.demotix.com/news/1888434/mayor-michael-applebaum-expl...
Idea from Rebecca_bexxi. None of these photos were taken by me. All links to the photographers are below.
1. Christoph
2. Haxe (hock)
3. FH Zwickau
4. Blue
5. Tannenzäpfle (Swabian Beer - fir cone)
8. Birne Helene (Pear with Chocolate)
9. Astronaut
10. Frau (Wife)
11. Smiling
12. Mendt
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.
The concept:
a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker).
The Questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name
If you like to do this please feel free to post a link to your creation in the comments.
Entertainers and athletes take questions and interact with the audience during a USO Show at Al Asad Airbase, Iraq; the sixth stop on the annual Vice Chairman’s USO Tour, April 2, 2019. Country music artist Craig Morgan, celebrity chef Robert Irvine, UFC Hall of Famer BJ Penn, former UFC Middleweight champion Chris Weidman, professional mixed martial artist Felice Herrig, two-time MLB World Series champion Shane Victorino; and professional surfer Makua Rothman joined Air Force Gen. Paul J. Selva, vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, on a tour across the world as they visit service members overseas to thank them for their service and sacrifice. (DoD Photo by U.S. Army Sgt. James K. McCann)
So i have gotten into the habit of taking pictures everyday...or at least almost everday. Now i am wonderin if i should do a 365 or not...not all self portraits [but im working on doing more of those as you may as noticed.] So i'd like the opinion of my flickr friends. Would you guys actually follow it if I did a 365?
Question #1 about the LEDs:
I got these for 50% off at the hardware store after the season last year-- $7.50 a string of 70 lights. How come an LED lightbulb with fewer LEDs, less wiring and less packaging costs ~$40? (both made in China)
One of the oldest questions in the sport of auto racing is if it is either a team or an individual sport? The correct answer is yes, to both. We know that there is no “I” in team, but the best drivers compete to be #1, which is what makes them the best drivers. Balancing the needs of the team and the personality of the driver behind the wheel is considered to be one of the most difficult jobs in all of professional sports. This Demo Day examined the challenges through the lens of four of the greatest team managers in the history of racing - Ferrari, Neubauer, Wyer, and Shelby. The featured cars for this Demo Day Included: the1933 Alfa Romeo 8C 2300 Monza, the 1964 Cobra Daytona Coupe, the 1958 Aston Martin DBR1, and the1955 Mercedes-Benz 300SL.
Photo by Andrew Taylor
Hello,
Best Java OOPs Interview Questions. For more information, you can go through this link: www.freestudy.com/best-java-oops-interview-questions/ #freestudy #College #University #Students
Am I a set? (town and country?)
I find these go well together. The Yellow is much softer then the yellow from the primary fridgie set.
Dave showing Ken the method he developed for collecting Virginia Snakeroot seeds using containers originally used for storing watch parts. Photo taken by Katie Trozzo on medicinal producer Dave Carman's forest farm (August 22, 2013). More information can be found and questions answered about this and other forest farming products at (www.extension.org/forest_farming).
By Dionna Sanchez
My mum was working on a project recently and she asked me to let her know what spiritual memories she had passed on to me as I was growing up. This was an interesting question and as I thought about it, I realized that the spiritual memories I had from her weren't big and obvious things. Rather, they were smaller day-to-day memories. It was more a way of life and who my parents were as people that got ingrained in my heart.
I remember sitting as a family in church and going almost every Sunday. I remember a cross that my mom had hung over their bed that had two rings entwined in it to symbolize that God was the head of their marriage. I remember Bible Studies laying out on my mom's desk, and the prayers we would say together.
This got me to thinking about what kind of spiritual memories or foundation I am laying for my own kids. What will they remember or take from me as a spiritual heritage? It probably won't be the things I think. It probably won't be the long discussions I have with them from time to time thinking that I am trying to "embed" spiritual truths and values in their hearts. No - it will probably be things like singing at the top of our lungs to our favorite Christian tunes in the car. Or, hosting small groups in our home. Maybe they will even treasure certain faith-based pictures that we have hung throughout our home.
You see, I realized that what our children take from us is more about who we are and how we live on a day to day basis. Not that they won't remember or appreciate some of the bigger moments on their faith journey like being baptized, or going on a missions trip. But the concept of how we view God and how much we let Him into our daily lives...will probably resound clearer in their heads.
How about you? What kind of spiritual memories are you leaving for your children? Are they negative or positive? Are they heartfelt or shallow words? Definitely something to think about...and definitely something to live by if you take your faith seriously.
About the author
Dionna Sanchez is a writer and founder of EmphasisOnMoms.com
Glory Magazine