Sentences with phrase «loves sitting at»

It is a great chair and my grandson loves sitting at it even when he's not being fed.

«I love sitting at home in front of my big - screen TV and changing channels all day long between games and movies.»

Yours looks so lovely, I bet you love sitting at the desk getting on with work.

I sure love Christmas cookies though, and at Christmastime I love sitting at the dining room table decorating Christmas cookies.

I love sitting at a café enjoying a latte, working on my computer and occasionally looking up to people watching.

I love sitting at home vut I also love getting out of the house to see nature.

Love sitting at the beach and living life to the fullest.

Well I'm not the best at doing this, so here it goes...... I love sitting at home and eating dinner with my sweetie (with a sassy side), I really like having a big Sunday night dinner and cuddling on the couch with either football or a good show.

I love sitting at the breakfast table discussing the world of today with...

The pupils love sitting at the golden table, it makes them feel special,» Alison said.

I love sitting at this desk with my gallery wall on one side and the inspiration board on the other.

My gals and I love sitting at the «bar» — those Bludot barstools are surprisingly comfortable!

I love sitting at the counter in the midst of all the action.

I loved sitting at that table and listening to my grandma tell me stories of my dad.

Not exact matches

At our core, we are all producers and we love journalism and we love television, and we love the digital opportunities that are sitting with us now.

Afterward, channeling Jobs, Mayer told hundreds of employees sitting at URL's, «Our purpose is to inspire and delight our users, to build beautiful services, things that people love to use and enjoy using every day, and that's our opportunity.»

Every day after sitting at the computer for 8 hours I grab a bite to eat (I love food Read more...

But unless you have had a priest sit at your hospital bedside for nearly thirty hours, or known an evangelist who travelled at his own expense to preach to a church having a revival, or — and nun from India who spent her life loving and caring for people whom the world had thrown away, please do not denounce religion outright.

Of course it would be naïve to assume that sitting down with ISIS terrorists would produce a quick change of heart, but a fearless, coherent defence of orthodox Christian belief about the human person, human love and thus human society is essential and is, at present, generally lacking even among church leaders.

Someone Who Is Holy isn't pacing down the grocery store aisle with three tinies hanging off the cart and coupons in her purse, she isn't running the dryer again to «fluff» the clothes that have sat in there too long, she isn't snorting while she laughs at television shows on Netflix, she isn't on her hands and knees wiping up someone else's vomit, she isn't locking the bedroom door and throwing a saucy look of promise at her husband because clearly good sex isn't included in the holiness life, she doesn't sweat, she doesn't turn on cartoons for three - minutes - of - peace - for - the - love.

And if my eyes were more filled with tears than those of a repentant woman, and if each tear were more precious than a pardoned woman's many tears; if I could find a place more humble than the place at his feet, and if I could sit there more humbly than a woman whose heart's sole choice was this one thing needful; if I loved him more sincerely than the most loyal of his servants, eager to shed the last drop of his life - blood in his service; if I had found greater favor in his eyes than the purest among women — nevertheless, if I asked him to alter his purpose, to reveal himself differently, to be more lenient with himself, he would doubtless look at me and say: Man, what have I to do with thee?

Throw in some schtick about love, kindness and eternal bliss to hook»em, and sit back and cackle at the centuries of dissension and strife that it has caused!

Or you can sit her down and tell her the «Never - Ending Story» about the prince who does not give up (not factual at all but truthful about love).

I remember sitting back one day, during the Ramsay Colloquium, looking at my friends gathered around that table, absorbed in the discussion, and thinking, «I just love these guys.»

They can look at a passage like «Love your neighbor as yourself» and know that their neighbor may be the person sitting beside them in church, but that neighbor could also be someone who doesn't even attend church.

We all sat around the table — and if an Elder needed to elder, he stood up and did so — but he was not only marked by his depth, wisdom, compassion and love — but his earnest haste — he could not wait to sit down again amongst us and be one of us - all of us at the feet of the Master Builder.

Though you sit at the right hand of God soaked in the purist of light and love you will feel it naught so great will be the sorrow in your heart for your wasted life and the vile hatred you spread.

But some Bunyan, writing Pilgrim's Progress in a prison where it was so damp that, as he cried, «The moss did verily grow upon mine eyebrows»; some Kernahan, born without arms and legs, but by sheer grit fighting his way up until he sat in the House of Commons; some Henry M. Stanley, born in a workhouse and buried in Westminster Abbey; some Dante, his Beatrice dead, he himself an exile from the city of his love, distilling all his agony into a song that became the «voice of ten silent centuries», or some more obscure and humble life close at hand where handicaps have been mastered, griefs have been built into character, disappointments have been turned into trellises, not left a bare, unsightly thing — such incarnations of fortitude and faith have infectious power.

During a recent year spent in Italy, as I walked the dusty Roman - charted roads, sat by splashing medieval fountains, and gazed at the altars of Renaissance and Baroque churches, I found myself, much to my surprise, falling in love with a saint named Mary Magdalene.

And yet Mozart also loved to sit at the piano and improvise freely, sometimes for hours on end, without attempting later to write down what he had created.

No one who has really heard the gospel of God's righteous and holy love enacted and released in Jesus Christ can be content to «sit at ease in Sion.»

I often refer to L'Engle as my «patron saint» because I simply love to sit at her feet, and learn.

I love to pray, or at least, I think it's prayer: it's more like holding space for God in my mind and in my heart, an invitation and a clearing away, a shifting over in the booth and the «hello, this spot is for you, go ahead and sit down if you like» in my soul and always somehow the spot is taken and filled and we eat and we are together even without words often.

We do this every day we sit at the dinner table, but we have forgotten to be thankful to God for his love and bounty.

And yet... and yet... when I sit at the bedside of those I love as they lie there dying, the question still lingers in the minds of many of them.

To show God's love and save men from damnation, he allowed himself to be put to death; but he knew that shortly afterwards, he would rise from the dead and ascend to his former home to sit at the right hand of God.

Those who sat on their hands while she at least attempted to speak up for the Church she loves are the ones who should examine their consciences.

Nothing shady, nothing backstreet about this: I'm sitting on the Jubilee Line, staring at it, all jostling with advertisements for holidays, or meeting your true love, or getting the best insurance deal.

Even Luther poured scorn on such literalism: «Oh, that heaven of the charlatans, with its golden stool and Christ sitting at the Father's side vested in a choir cope and a golden crown, as the painters love to portray him.»

God really loves this and gives you extra endurance to sit at the computer all day and keep repeating it.

I love scripture, I love how parents are instructed in Deuteronomy to talk about the Lord «when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.»

I sat there on the bed for a while, and then I did seek out my brother and apologize to him, and we all sat down quietly for lunch, and nothing else was ever said about this, until now, in this small essay; but the thought occurs to me that in a lot of ways I have been sitting on that bed ever since, pondering the way lies come so easily to our lips and spin so easily out of our ostensible control, and stab the innocent, and dilute respect, and poison love, and tear at what we so much wish to be, which is honest and gracious and reverent.

I know that I need to sit down and think through my diary and cut some things out because it's just too much at the moment, but I also have a lot of existing commitments that can't be changed and that I love.

From 9.30 am on selected Saturday mornings, we've invited some of our favourite brands and boutiques to showcase their products at our Weighhouse Street Deli, so you can do a bit of shopping and get to know some of the innovative new brands that we love, and then sit down to some brunch!

I made some changes and posted my version at http://gggiraffe.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/topsy-turvy-dinner-savoury-chocolate.html — I just tossed the beetroot and carrot with the dry ingredients and didn't get your love colours — plus my goats cheese didn't seem as creamy as yours and just sat atop my muffins but they were delicious — thanks for a great recipe

I love that these also would be perfect for a party because they can totally sit out at room temperature!

So the fantasy of lavish, sit down meals that I spend hours preparing, sitting down in our nice clothes, and having long chats over wine about everything we love about the holiday season — well, at this point is more fantasy than reality.

He loved looking at the colors and the shapes and sitting with us while we read.

all i want to do is sit outside with warm sunshine hitting my face, make green salads filled with every vegetable imaginable, i would love to make a rhubarb something, but the fact remains, even though the season is spring, spring hasn't truly sprung yet - at least not here!

She loved to pull her chair out of the large straight table and she loved to sit down on her chair at the large straight table in the classroom!