Do you pray for them?

Today I spent the day with my niece. We made cookies, cupcakes, rice crispies treats, and brownies. After all was said and done, we delivered some goodies to a few of my neighbors. First, we went to Pete's house. We chatted for a few minutes, and as we were walking away from the house, my niece grabbed my hand and said "Aunt Jaron, do you ever pray for Pete?" I will be honest, I was taken a bit off guard by her question. Honestly, I don't know if I ever have. I do know that what she said really hit me.

Who do I pray for? What am I doing? I've been in a bit of a rough spot recently. I can't even begin to explain it, and I really don't want to. I know what is going on and really, only I can deal. But, Kaydence's question made me wonder what I should be doing. Perhaps right this second I'm supposed to put all of my troubles aside and pray for other people. Perhaps others are in the same spot I am. Perhaps they need me. I know that right this minute there are things I need and maybe, just maybe, God was speaking through my five year old niece to say "Jaron, do you pray for them?" because maybe others need prayer. Maybe someone else is praying for me, or maybe it was God saying "Jaron, you are not alone in your troubles. Do you pray for them?

Kentucky Roots

A few weeks ago I took a trip to Kentucky with my dad. It had been like 10 years since I had last been there and I thought it was time to go back. So, ROAD TRIP with my pops. I am a firm believer in the idea that you can't really know where you are going unless you know where you came from. I didn't do much while I was in Kentucky, but I learned a lot about where I came from. Of that I am proud.

On Holly Ridge

This is a picture of my dad standing in front of the cave my great great  great grandparents lived in when they first moved to Kentucky.











There are lots of little family cemeteries on the mountain tops. These are my first relatives in Kentucky. They moved to Kentucky from West Virginia.

 

The first graves were built on top of the ground

This is the first house that was built on Holly. The Hollon's moved from the cave to this house. I can't believe it has stood this long--I guess they don't make things like they used to.



This is my dad and his cousin George at the Elkins cemetery. It overlooks the property my great grandpa owned.

This is my dad standing in front of the barn his grandpa Clifford built. Grandpa Clifford was dad's hero, and seemed to be the person who was always there for him.

I may have never actually lived in Kentucky, but that's where my roots run. Understanding why Kentucky is so special for my dad helps me to understand him better.  And, I know my dad won't always be here to tell the stories; one day they will be up to me to share.  I may not always know where I am going, but I do know where I've been.

Pull

I only have a few short months to do new things in my 365 days, so this week I did something that I had never done before--trap shooting. While I have done target shooting, I have never shot at a moving target (except that one time . . . just kidding). I have to admit it is a pretty good time, and this is what I have to show for it ---------------------------------->

I hit a total of three. Don't judge me. I don't normally shoot at moving targets. I really wanted to jump up and down and do a little jig, but jumping up and down with a gun in your hand probably isn't a good idea. Plus, making noise sets off the pigeons.

Thanks to my friend, I have something new to add to my list of firsts, I got to hang with some pretty cool old guys (and let's just be honest, old men love me), and I also ran into a long time family friend all at the same time!

While I may have only hit three this time. I am gonna shoot (pun intended) for ten next time.

Ready? Pull . . .