<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7871855748346342214</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:53:11.894-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art of Being Quiet</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Stacy Nicol</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07902508859720742778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7871855748346342214.post-3174520528365668849</id><published>2007-12-11T08:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:54:17.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas &amp; a Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142759555285238178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/R17AkWoFwaI/AAAAAAAAAAk/j3Q47xkD8kg/s400/emmab.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time. ~Laura Ingalls Wilder &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Christmas and children go hand in hand. The child makes Christmas so. In all their innocence and wonder they embrace every undertone of joy and merriment. We put up our trees for children. We wrap our gifts with big velvet ribbons for them. We put candy canes into hot chocolate mugs and marshmallows into sweet potatoes for our little ones. We tie bells to our boots and sing merrily when they are near. It is all for them. In our service something miraculous happens... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;... that child in us, the one whom we have tucked away from our growing responsibilities and worries, timidly climbs out from her (or his) hiding place. The magic of the season brings to life all which is innocent and wondrous in us! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Great little One! whose all-embracing birth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Lifts Earth to Heaven, stoops Heaven to Earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;~Richard Crashaw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Christmas and childhood go hand in hand - without the birth of Jesus Christ we would have no reason to celebrate. I look at my own tiny wonder and although her birth cannot compare to that of my Saviors, I can taste a bit of glory to God and goodwill to men because of her. When I look at her this season I remember why we celebrate and to which gifts we have been given.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I find great peace and joy in the miracle of His redeeming love. I am deeply thankful to Him the maker of my soul. And I cannot but think of the words of Alfred Noyes when he made this remark, &lt;em&gt;"Only in souls the Christ is brought to birth, and there He lives and dies." &lt;/em&gt;It is through and around and because of this time of year I look within and celebrate His birth - to keep my faith alive and thriving each day of the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind. ~Mary Ellen Chase&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7871855748346342214-3174520528365668849?l=artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/feeds/3174520528365668849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7871855748346342214&amp;postID=3174520528365668849' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default/3174520528365668849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default/3174520528365668849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/2007/12/our-hearts-grow-tender-with-childhood.html' title='Christmas &amp; a Child'/><author><name>Stacy Nicol</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07902508859720742778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/R17AkWoFwaI/AAAAAAAAAAk/j3Q47xkD8kg/s72-c/emmab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7871855748346342214.post-2483118536736449960</id><published>2007-12-09T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:54:17.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/R1xlY2oFwZI/AAAAAAAAAAc/vegusIWtuXI/s1600-h/lift.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142096352205193618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/R1xlY2oFwZI/AAAAAAAAAAc/vegusIWtuXI/s400/lift.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first seminar has come and gone. It was a wonderful learning experience. Those who attended were warm and receiving. We were able to present our message in an atmosphere of friendship. The Lyceum was a beautiful area to meet. The fireplace added to the cosy camaraderie. I felt comfortable sharing the thoughts and ideas we at &lt;em&gt;Lift&lt;/em&gt; are developing. I hope that our message inspired those in attendance. I think it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially, I was going to present the principles from &lt;em&gt;The Art of Being Quiet&lt;/em&gt; but a few weeks before the seminar I felt very strongly that I shouldn't. Instead, I felt directed to share just a piece from those principles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give Quiet Service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We at Lift have been organizing a service group for children and youth. We had decided to put this service group on the back burner while we worked over our books and seminar series. However, I felt inspired to share the concept at the Lyceum - with the blessings of my partners (and dear friends) Peggy Hillyer and Karina Witbeck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We at Lift desire to inspire all humankind to live more purposeful lives through discovering a personal mission. &lt;/em&gt;Our mission statement is very simple and basic. We want to help inspire you to discover your personal missions. We firmly believe that once you do, your lives will be filled with greater purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We believe that a solid means towards finding your mission and living with greater purpose is through service. This was the premise of my lecture (I use this term very loosely). It is also the premise of &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pixie Patrol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - the service group &lt;em&gt;Lift&lt;/em&gt; has been organizing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pixie Patrol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is targeted at people 5 to 18 years but the concept is meant to be practiced by anyone ages 1 to 101.  Simply put &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pixie Patrol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is a group of like minded children and youth serving those around them with 'pixie gifts' and 'pixie tasks'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is a pixie gift or pixie task?  Pixie gift giving (or pixieing as we call it)  is simply this - giving a gift anonymously.  A pixie task is doing some sort of task for another without being seen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have hopefully aroused your curiosity I am going to leave it at that.  This diary page is far too long already.  I shall share more of 'pixieing' and &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pixie Patrol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; soon.  You can also go to our website to learn more of our vision for &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://lift-ascend.com/"&gt;Pixie Patrol&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7871855748346342214-2483118536736449960?l=artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/feeds/2483118536736449960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7871855748346342214&amp;postID=2483118536736449960' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default/2483118536736449960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default/2483118536736449960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/2007/12/our-first-seminar-has-come-and-gone.html' title=''/><author><name>Stacy Nicol</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07902508859720742778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/R1xlY2oFwZI/AAAAAAAAAAc/vegusIWtuXI/s72-c/lift.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7871855748346342214.post-5430046958351249275</id><published>2007-11-05T17:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:54:18.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiet Moments...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129528849025328322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/Ry-_T49F5MI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zrbue8QVQgw/s400/reading3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Today I caught my daughters sharing a quiet moment together. I raced to find my camera! These brief moments shall remain the greatest treasures I possess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories are made up of moments - often as subtle and simple as reading a book together.  My daughter commented that she couldn't wait until Emma could understand her.  I believe that 12 week old Emma may not understand the words spoken to her but she can comprehend something far greater from the experience - love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that challenge, crisis and suffering will come - they are woven in the 'tapestry of life'.  Adversity is an important part of life, I believe.  Abigail Adams wrote to her son, "It is not in the still calm of life or in the repose of a pacific station  that great characters are formed.  The habits of a vigorous mind are formed when contending with difficulties."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that I might face difficulties with a quiet strength and a willingness to learn from what lies ahead.  I think of &lt;a href="http://www.corrietenboom.com/index.html"&gt;Corrie Ten Boom&lt;/a&gt; and how the tender memories of family brought her a source of comfort when she suffered in a concentration camp.  She was able to, with great faith and peace, face a war which took that family from her.  It is &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; quiet I seek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have determined I shall look with eager eyes for the quiet of the day and share it with you, friendly reader.  These diaries will be a celebration of the quiet I am seeking and finding.  My hope is that I might be lifted through my awareness and perhaps, you might be as well - that our reservoirs of memory might be full enough to help sustain us when we contend with difficulties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7871855748346342214-5430046958351249275?l=artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/feeds/5430046958351249275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7871855748346342214&amp;postID=5430046958351249275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default/5430046958351249275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7871855748346342214/posts/default/5430046958351249275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingquiet.blogspot.com/2007/11/quiet-moments.html' title='Quiet Moments...'/><author><name>Stacy Nicol</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07902508859720742778</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SP3v28sxe4o/Ry-_T49F5MI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Zrbue8QVQgw/s72-c/reading3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
