God’s Providential Hand

Note:  This is published with permission from my dear Daddy.

It has been one month since I saw my stepmother breathe her last here on Earth.  For the next few days, I was prompted to write.  I was in awe that God changed my plans to fit into His plans.

Often times, I feel that the Lord works in my life, but there are times when I look and wonder if I am missing some of His urgings due to my lack of prayer and focus on Him.  I get so busy and caught up in the life that He allows me to live – but that I sometimes feel I’ve created. This may sound a bit contradictory, but it is my reality and God blesses me through my own versions of “Lord I have faith, please help me in my lack of faith”.

My stepmother went into the hospital with some abdominal pain from a lack of movement in her bowels.  She lived a challenging lifestyle for over 5 years due to health challenges yet this one was not as common for her.  She was admitted and was going to meet with a surgeon in the morning to decide what the best course of action was.  By morning, her responsiveness and coherance had dramatically decreased and it was found that her blood pressue had dropped dangerously low and she was likely septic.  From the point of determining the blood pressure and coherance change until her death was only a matter of maybe 4 hours.  For the privacy of my family, I won’t go into all the details.  The point of writing is to display for all to see – or atleast those that read this – that God DID work in her life and in mine that day, the days prior and days since.

Backing up, the night before her death, I had discussed with my husband that after I got done with everything I needed to do in the morning, including dental appointments for four kids, I’d run up to the hospital to check on my stepmother.  I usually didn’t visit the first 24 hours of her hospital stays, as that was time the hospital would be determining the best course of action.  But the morning of, I awoke early and had this “strange” feeling that I needed to go up to the hospital early.  I checked emails and googled bowel obstruction in elderly, as I wanted some background before walking in the room.  Providentially, I came across a blog written by a medical professional that talked about some of the causes of death in elderly.  In it he wrote about how some families, with all good intentions, will do “everything possible” to maintain life and that many people today struggle with accepting that death is part of life.  The blog detailed some of the many things a hospital will do if you say you want “everything” done, and again, I had this prompting that it was time to go to the hospital.

I know now that the Lord was allowing me to be prepared for the conversation I would have with my dad, stepsister and a Rapid Response nurse just hours later.  The Lord allowed me to be a voice for my stepmother, in a way I never would have chosen or imagine.  I was able to help my dad, in the fog of severe grief for his beloved wife, see that she would not have chosen all of the extreme measures the ICU would have required, all with a very small percentage chance of survivial or recovery.  I was able to be by his side, holding his hand, hugging his aching body and doing my best to explain what the nurse was urgently asking him.

As my children rushed to the hospital that morning, along with other family members, my children cried.  Some cried for the eminant loss of their grandmother and some cried because they didn’t know the condition of her heart towards Christ.  In the midst of the tears and strain, my youngest girl, not quite 5, was quick to tell us, that Grandma wasn’t hurting anymore, and that now she could jump and run.  It was through the lips of her sweet soul that God spoke to us to comfort us.

Again, I looked back at just 24 hours earlier in our lives and remembered a sweet girl at church who spoke during a special Student Sunday. She shared her testimony and in it spoke on how it took her a few years to find peace after her grandmother’s death.  She shared, to my memory, on how it hurt, but that God had a plan and she was finally ok with that.  Little did I know that my children would be experiencing similar grief so soon, and I know that her words impacted their lives.

God, also orchestrated a rare day, where my entire family was not working.  My husband had taken the day off, for other reasons which allowed me to go up to the hospital; my college daughter was home and not working on that one day; my other working daughter was able to ask off.  God knew, before we did, that we needed that day to just be together and be shoulders to cry on for eachother.

In the days that have followed, we have had such sweet conversations about salvation and God’s handiwork.  We’ve shared memories of grandma and we’ve cried.  My youngest daughter has a fascination now with knowing her grandparents, their parents, etc.  Every few days, I’ll hear her say, “I miss Grandma Pat.  I know she’s not hurting anymore though.”  This youngest girl adores her Grandpa and, in my opinion, has been gifted with a sensativity beyond her years, to realize when he needs a hug, kiss, or smile.

Death is hard.  I am so sad that she is not here with us on Earth, smiling into my dad’s eyes, calling her daughter for their daily talk, or cheering my kids on in their activities.  Yet, I know that He orchestrated the day in a way that we could all be together and have the memory of love and support that was ever-so-present in the hospital room that day.

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That’s Hypocritical

Out of the mouth of babes.  Two words said to me today by my 10 year old slapped me straight.

Six months ago I said I would ride a local roller coaster with my daughter once she was tall enouch to ride it.  Today she was tall enough and the line was short.  I really thought that I was covered when we arrived at the park becuase I had already told her I awoke with a headache, and her dad had volunteered to take her for her very 1st ride on Batman at Six Flags.  It never crossed my mind to ride any new rides today.  I have developed a fear of rollercoasters over the years as a mom.  I have been known to push my kids to ride a rollercoaster or ride with them to help them overcome a fear.  But this 10 year old loves coasters, so the issue was mute.  My once young brain now has wisdom and logic, my level-headedness sometimes spins with vertigo, and I just let me head get in the way sometimes of the adventure and thrill of something new.

I was first to cheer for her as she came off the ride…then it happened, she bouncily asked me to ride with her so she could go again.  Nope.  I said I didn’t wan’t to and that I was still afraid.  Then my sweet husband urged me with “come on, you had our son overcome his fear of the same ride last year”.  Seriously?!  He pulled that on me.  I had pushed our son…I knew he would want to ride it, and he just needed a gentle and loving shove…or a few shoves.  Now he loves the ride.  But this is me.

I obliged their urge to just ride it.  The kids cheered, I prayed and had a talk to myself along the long walk to the start of the ride.  About half-way there, I began my logical plea of how I really didn’t “want” to ride and was afraid.  I continued, that I was good for encouraging them to overcome fears because I knew it was good for them and would help them succeed in their lives.  Sounds good, right?  And I meant every single word.  Fear is paralyzing.  I never want my kids to miss out of life becuase of it.  Fear steals opportunity and keeps kids and adults from fully experiencing the life they were created to live.

Then came those two words, “That’s hypocritical.”  Ouch!  She was right and those words urged me to make myself to the front of that line.  I stood, still scared, and my son reminded me of a favorite verse from Phillipians 4:13, “Mom, you can do all things through Christ who gives you strength.”  He was right.  I repeated those words in my head the entire ascent of the ride.  Squinty-eyed, I rode the ride.  60 seconds later I was able to walk off that ride, a bit dizzy, but as an overcomer.  I was not the hypocrite.  And best of all, were the afterthoughts.

My husband and my goal in raising our five children is to raise them to love and serve God and to see them pursue their passions in a way that they lead a successful life.  Through our parenting journey, we have encouraged them to always revert back to the Bible to check facts and see how to live life.  Scripture memorization has been part of our home.  We’ve told them we wanted them to have the Word hidden in their hearts so they can pull from it when needed.  Today my son, helped me by pulling Scripture out.  We have also often told our kids that we don’t ask them to do anything that we’ve not done ourselves. We talk of hypocracy in our family and society quite often.  Today my daughter was able to effectly show me she understood what that means and call me on it.  She wasn’t being disrepectful in telling me I was being hypocritical.  She was spot on and  I deserved it.

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Wild at Heart is Not For the Faint at Heart

Standing in front of our home’s very tall, strong and burly tree, I craned my neck so much that it began to cramp.  All the while, I’m panic chuckling to keep myself from being terrified.  It is an odd balance of being an over-protective mother that says things like, “no, you can’t climb that tree, ” or “get down, that’s not safe,”…and the mother who let’s their children, especially their son, be wild.  Logic says, keep your kids safe, right?  But does that safety sometime thwart adventure that can spur someone on to other kinds of greatness?  I’d love to say, I can be carefree and just enjoy watching my kids explore and adventure, but the truth is I am usually somewhat anxiously putting on a smile to encourage them.

Thinking back on the first time I read the book, “Wild at Heart” by John Eldredge, I remember thinking I don’t know if I am made out for raising a boy who will be wild.  Yet, as I read, I recall thinking, that I want my son so desparately to be a strong, courageous MAN like my husband.  That means, that he has to face his fears and sometimes do things that at first glance might seem foolish.  I do not want to emasculate my son.  We live in a society that has tried so desparately to soften our men and make them mind their manners with no opportunity just be boys.  Not every boy is wired to be risk-taking and aggressive.  My son has be gifted with empathy…yet he still has that wild streak in him that Eldredge speaks of.  And I want to fan that flame and cause a blaze.

Raising a boy that tends more often to be a reader and hands-on builder, I haven’t dealt a tremendous lot with scary “boy” things.  But, on occassion my boy does suprise me.  Just a few weeks ago, my 13, 10 and 4 year olds were playing with a neighbor.  The neighbor boy has a bit more adventure in him than my son.  When they asked if they could climb the holly tree to get to the roof, I prompty said, No.  That answer comes from my husband who doesn’t want them tearing up the drains.  When they asked if they climb the very mature sweet gum tree, I said yes.  Now this tree is not easily climbable and you have to be tall and strong enough to get to the knots that will get you to the first branch.  I knew it would be a challenge.  My son, went first and after making it up the tree – his first time – he was elated and cheering.  He is a sanguine, so cheering and excitement is his M.O.  Getting down was another story.  The only option that seemed viable was an extension ladder.  He climbed up over and down the ladder.  Then the games began.  The neighbor, did the same but got a branch higher.  Then my son had to one-up him and get higher.  Then my 10 year old made her way up the ladder to successfully climb around the tree and back down.  After about 30 – 40 minutes of  climbing up and around the whole tree, I did have the kids come down because some wind was picking up.  My son, said, “Thanks, Mom, for letting us do that…I’m suprised you said yes!”  Silently, I though, “I’m suprised, too.”

The whole time they were in the gum ball tree, I had one in a holly tree either 1st or 2nd story height, and a 4 year old in smaller tree she can manage without help.   I was pondering a talk I had heard a few times from one of my favorite speakers, Terri Brady.  She spoke of watching her kids play and adventure.  She said she often does headline test where she thinks, “How will this look as a headline? ”  Something like – Toddler falls from tree and breaks arm…might not be so bad.  – Boy falls from 3rds story height from a tree and is in the ICU…not good at all.”  Watching them climb my thoughts were…could this result in a broken arm?  Or is this a serious hospital stay kind of risk…or worse?  I don’t like injuries or broken bones…that is for sure, yet I don’t want to keep my kids so safe and secure that they never have the thrill of adventure or energizing feeling from conquering fears.  We needs brave young men who won’t cower from fears or adversity.   And, we need moms who will let their boys grow up to be men.

I’d love to hear some other Wild at Heart stories.

 

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I’m Not Raising Grass

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The unseasonably nice Missouri weather has prompted our family to spend hours outside each day.  It doesn’t take too much prodding to get the kids out.  As I sat down to read from one of my books this evening as the sun was just beginning to set, my four year old beckoned me with another, “push me, Mom.”  I has a selfish second of hesitation and then hollered that I was on my way.  It is always a struggle, I think especially for stay-at-home moms, to balance time for kids and time for self.  As I was pushing each of my three youngest kids, I was distracted with the view of this lovely dirt that I photographed here.  This dirt used to bear some grass.  In the Spring and Summer it used to be green and pretty.  Now it is barren, brown and dull.  And it is just exactly how I like it.  It is a choice.

My husband and I have never been awarded the best yard award, which in all honesty, doesn’t bother either of us.  The yard just has never reached a high level on our priority list.  Now, I am not in anyway criticizing the great yard people.  I love to look at or even run my tosies through someone else’s plush green grassy lawn. Growing up, my mom and I would take walks together.  There was that “one yard” that had the most beautifully manicured yard.  Most walks, we would check to see if anyone was watching, then slip our shoes off and walk in the grass alongside the sidewalk just to feel their lawn.

When lawncare people stop by my husband and my home to ask if we want a quote on getting our yard plush and green, I tell then, kindly, “no.”  Usually they will push a second time with a discounted price.  I then tell them, “I’m not raising grass, I’m raising kids.”  About half the time the young salesperson is puzzled and then leaves.  Then there are the salespeople, who are parents, who will  pause, smile and then say that they completely understand.

As a Mom, I know that I only have a limited number of years to be the number one influence in their lives.  I also know that there comes a point when they won’t pick me to hang out with.  And, while that can be saddening at times, raising independent, productive and God-honoring children is my goal. I have been blessed to be a stay-at-home mom to my five kids since the beginning of my motherhood journey.  I don’t always make it outside to play as much as I could and sometimes think I should.  I am thankful that today, I did make that choice.  It reminded me of our choice to raise our kids and ignore the barren grass.  I like my dirt-filled, grassless ring that lies just under our family tree swing.

That family tree swing represents a reward for a goal our family reached a couple years ago.  It has provided us so many opportunities to stop the busyness of life, or the craziness of emotions that often run through our home, and just pause to enjoy life together.  This winter, in particular, has brought so many smiles because my now four year old loves to swing high…really high.  When she does, she closes her eyes (now that is trust), and sings at the top of her sweet lungs, “I believe I can fly.  I believe I can touch the sky!”  Oh, how I love to watch and listen.

Today and many days, I didn’t just push my kids and enjoy THEIR smiles, laughter, and “dabbing”; I perched myself on that swing for my turn.  They pushed me high and got to enjoy seeing ME laugh and smile.   They need to see me having fun and being silly.  Just like they need to see me kiss and love on my husband…but that is a topic for another blog post.

My advice to you, if you are a mom reading this is:  jump on the swing and fly, laugh and smile.

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Leap of Faith

What does independence look like?  Is it the toddler who learns to potty-train?  Or is the the child who can successfully pack their own suitcase for a short trip?  What about the college girl who can work semi-part-time, do well in classes and take care herself?  Yes, all of those are independence. Today I saw a new kind of independence.  It was the independence to jump in a pool.

To a young child who overcomes the fear of swimming, jumping in a pool is fun, but not necessarily a matter of independence.  And after some surgery, jumping back into a pool can definitely feel like independence.  It was just one summer ago when I was getting back into my own pool and there were moments when I was fearful to get in and swim.  I had a shoulder repair after a repeat disclocation tore some cartlidge.  Therapy took months and so I was apprehensive for some time to be in the pool with my kids for fear I couldn’t “save” them if needed.  I felt much more independent after recovery.

But what if you never felt like you’d be able to do what you once did? Or what if you become content settling for just watching and not doing.  Sometimes that comes from fear of the unknown and the what-ifs.  Sometimes our bodies just won’t cooperate with us.  And often it is a combination of both.

Today I had the priviledge to witness my own mother take a literal “leap of faith”.  She has had some health challenges over the last six or seven years that has left her in a state of fear to do spontaneous fun things.  Her body had to deal with multiple surgeries that left muscles cut and not as functional.  She also dealt with weight that she often battled to just get to a manageable state.  A little over a year ago, she began a journey with a program called, SHAPE, that has allowed her to take her life back over – from the pharmaceuticals that used to fill her body, from the pains that used to keep her sitting more than moving.  Her journey has taken her to today where she has lost about 100 lbs, and has her health back.

Today my mother taught me another lesson – I now have another picture in my mind of what independence can look like.  While sitting poolside, chatting and watching all the kids jumping in and having fun, she muttered with a sparkle in her eye, “I think I want to jump in like them.” Well, that was all my sister and I needed to hear and we set her “want” into action.

Though she was afraid – she hadn’t really swam or even doggie paddled in YEARS – she bravely stepped to the side of the pool.  She had her son-in-laws holding her hands, a pool noodle tucked under her arms, goggles secured and she jumped.  She jumped into the deep waters to my sister and I. There was so much cheering going on from the grandkids.  She proved to herself and all our family at the pool that she COULD do some fun stuff, just because it looked fun.  It was exhilerating for her. Independence has many different looks, and today Mom’s was coming back up to the top of the water.  Her leap of faith helped me see that there are no excuses.  Excuses are useless, right?  Yes they are.  And excuses can often paralyze us into a state of settling.  I expect that this lesson will come up in conversations to come with my kids as we encourage them to do what they fear.  I can hear it now, “if Grandma could jump in the pool, then you can ____ – ” fill in that blank.

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Am I a jerk?

“Isn’t that kind of jerkish?” was the question that I heard my son say to a friend’s teenage son.  While some things that my kids say don’t stick with me, this one sentence has frequently come to mind in the last week.

Let me give a little background, I was visiting a friend and mentioned that one of my daughters was out of town for the week on a mission trip.  The teen, who let me say upfront is a nice young man with a strong work-ethic and great parents, chuckled and said that his school tried to get him to do mission work and he never did.  My son asked why?  He said he didn’t like to help people.  My son’s response was, “Isn’t that kind of jerkish?”  My jaw almost dropped.  Should I be embarrased, proud or guilty that I didn’t have the boldness to say that same thing – which I was thinking?  The teenager said again he didn’t like to help people and if he saw people begging/asking for help on the street, he keeps his earbuds in and keeps walking.  To that my son said, “well that’s not very nice, we are supposed to treat people the way we want to be treated.”  Conversation was over.

I am currently finishing up reading another great book by Stephen Davey’s Wisdom Commentary Series, Titus.  This book has challenged me each chapter.  The conversation I had the opportunity to witness, brought me straight to God’s Word.  When referring to an elder of the church, Titus 1:8 (NASB) says, “Hospitable, loving what is good, sensible, just, devout, self-controlled.”  In Davey’s book, he states hospitality can be literally translated as, “stranger-loving”.  Who are the strangers in my life – the man at the street corner with a sign asking for money, the neighbor I’ve yet to talk to, the grubby man by Aldis in the middle of a freezing day, the person standing by the ballpark with his hand out, the dirty or mouthy young child in South Dakota that just needs to know he is loved, and the list could go on.

My first conviction is that I need to be more stranger-loving.  Do I always ignore someone in need?  Of course not. I try to be attentive to the needs of people and help where I can.   Do I always walk by those in need and act as though I don’t see them?  Nope.  I’ve offered, food, money and warm clothes to strangers in downtown St. Louis and the surrounding counties for years now.  I don’t do it for my gain.  But I do it because I have been blessed with food, shelter and health.  But here’s the real question…am I always open to helping someone in need and offering help to even those I may not be comfortable being around?  That answer is also a no.  Maybe I am the one acting jerkish because I don’t always “feel” like helping someone out.  It is easy to justify why I don’t need to…they are a drunk, they aren’t hard workers, I don’t want to get lice, who know what else.  Maybe not.  Either way, I do need to be more willing to keep my eyes and ears open.    If I don’t have money in hand that I feel led to give, I can still offer a smile.  And, I can have food or supplies ready in my car if I see someone in need.  Just today I put together our extra hotel toilettries and bagged them up to keep in our car.  My kids love to serve others and I need to be very intentional in finding ways to do that with them.

My second conviction is even sharper.  I pray for my boldness in faith quite often.  It is so easy in the times we live in, to soften edges, weaken the Word and not speak the whole truth.  We live in a world where tolerance is so taught and preached, that defined lines hardly exist.  Even Bible based churches often don’t want to speak the truth because of fear of offending someone.  I didn’t have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ until I was 22.  Many times growing up, especially in college, I took the offended standpoint.  I didn’t want to hear someone “preach to me” or tell me what I did not want to hear.  Since that time, I have had years where I am super close to Jesus Christ, reading and study the Bible.  I have also had years where I have had distance – my fault, not His.  I’ve prayed often that I will be willing to speak clearly and boldly when the opportunity comes.  I may be the one offending someone now with what I say, but I am ok with that.  I often thank God for those willing to be an example to me and speak Truth to me – even when I wasn’t receptive.

In Stephen Davey book, he talks about this in a poignant way.  It’s so good, I am not going to paraphrase.  Page 120, reads, “Anything apart from the truth of this God-breathed Word is simply wrong.  Are you ready to take a stand?  Are you ready for that kind of heat?  Are you willing to communicate that kind of conviction to a world saturated in pluralism?”  Conviction speaks so loudly.  What my son did that day when speaking to the teenage boy, was communicate boldly the truth that we are to serve others and be hospitable.  Like I said earlier, at first I wondered if I should be embarrased, proud or guilty.  I’ve settled with proud and humbled.  What I mean is that I am proud to see my son speak boldly.  I was humbled by how he did it in a kind, matter-of-fact way.  I don’t think, now, that it was my time to speak those words to the young man.  It was my son’s turn to do so. Afterall, sometimes we are to speak boldly, sometimes we are to close our mouth and listen.

Throughout our married life, my husband and I have tried to remember that actions speak louder than words.  What we do speaks so loudly that what we say, can sound like the Charlie Brown, “wah wah wah wah wah.”  My husband has always been willing to offer a meal to a stranger, time to someone needing help, and Truth to someone who needs to hear it.  I, too, have tried to be that example.  I like to think that what we saw and heard the afternoon at a freinds house was an example of our son doing what he has seen done.  I pray that this serves as a reminder to me, my husband and you, the reader, that we are to speak the Truth in love.  We are not to water down the Word.  John 17:17 says, Your Word is Truth.  Simple.  Clear.  Bold.

 

 

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Turning the Page

Thanks go out to Chris Brady, author of Turn the Page, and many other best sellers, for permission (why did I think I needed permission?) to read from a variety of genres.   Over the years, I have sprinkled in historical books and literature, to my primary list of books to read.  Yet, for some reason I would find myself wondering if that was what I needed to be spending my reading time on.  It wasn’t that the books were not good, it was really just a matter of knowing I have limited time to read daily, monthly, or over my lifetime and I wanted to pack in the right stuff and leave out what I perceived as “fluff”.    It sounds kind of querky typing that, but, I am just being real about how I felt.  What I found is that as long as I am intentional about my reading choices, I can find learning nuggets from a variety of books.

For years I have dedicated most of my reading to books that will improve me on different levels:  personal, leadership, faith, family, etc.  I do not regret this one bit.

Through the last decade I have learned the foundations of how to respect my incredible husband from reading Love and Respect.  God gave me a man whom I love and adore, and who makes me laugh and feel secure.  Yet, I had overlooked the need to show respect and not just love, though my words and actions.

I have learned that a smile is so very valuable, simple and costs nothing from How to Win Friends and Influence People.

When I opened the book, Esther, by Stephen Davey, I saw the courage in the life of this woman in a way I never had before.  I saw the depth of her person and realized the complexity of her life, as described in the Bible.

Personality Plus revolutionized my look on relationships.  I am driven and picky – choleric and melancholy, yet with prayer, knowledge and effort, I can work on being a well-rounded person-ality.  I have learned to be compassionate, and even fun (gasp).  Occasionally, I’ve even been mistaken as laid back.

Variety, though, brings opportunity to cross-reference and to bring out even more from one book, based solely on the very fact that you are reading other books.  I can’t recommend Turn the Page by Brady enough, for learning how to leadership read.  This book should be a requirement for all college students.

Last year I read the Narrative Life of Frederick Douglass.  This book opened my eyes to slavery, as I never remember learning it.  I was emboldened by his words. We are enslaved when we don’t make our own decisions and when our educaiton is taken away.

Last week, I finished, Christy.  I started this book, after reading Turn the Page, I saw the benefit in reading this classic, yet, fictional book.  Reading this book, along with the 3 or 4 others on my table, created a diversity in topic, author voice and ultimately, made me read more than I would have otherwise.  I was charged, once again, when I read, “If (I) don’t do the work that’s been given (me) to do, that work may never be done”.  Let that settle in.

As I’m excited as I am when I read, I’m even more excited when I wake to see one or more of my precious children on the couch, floor or bed with a book in hand.  Their minds are growing and their experiences widening.

So, what is next for me?  She’s Gonna Blow (again, just being real here), EdgeHow I Raised Myself From Failure to Success in SellingWooden, and the book of Thessalonians. 

What is next for you?  What are you reading?

Love and Respect – http://www.lifeleadership.com/Shopping/tabid/63/ProdID/64/ln/61234987/language/en-US/Default.aspx

 

How To Win Friends and Influence People -http://www.lifeleadership.com/Shopping/tabid/63/ProdID/2849/ln/61234987/language/en-US/Default.aspx

Esther – http://www.lifeleadership.com/Shopping/tabid/63/ProdID/2312/ln/61234987/language/en-US/Default.aspx

Personality Plus – http://www.lifeleadership.com/Shopping/tabid/63/ProdID/11/ln/61234987/language/en-US/Default.aspx

How I Raised Myself From Failure to Sucess in Selling – http://www.lifeleadership.com/Shopping/tabid/63/ProdID/10/ln/61234987/language/en-US/Default.aspx

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