<?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-498758942242829314</id><updated>2011-07-10T09:17:35.928-05:00</updated><category term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SpP5otlmvLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/O7nqIowS7bI/s320/6096_1224273048131_1268136623_648237_5651491_n.jpg'/><title type='text'>The Art of Being Everything</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-350615963030763438</id><published>2010-03-25T12:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T12:39:22.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>did i mentioned i moved?</title><content type='html'>whitneysewell.tumblr.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-350615963030763438?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/350615963030763438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2010/03/did-i-mentioned-i-moved.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/350615963030763438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/350615963030763438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2010/03/did-i-mentioned-i-moved.html' title='did i mentioned i moved?'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-7267866510751424743</id><published>2009-12-05T01:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T02:04:00.153-06:00</updated><title type='text'>oh, oh, oh, if we'd only known</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;one day, you'll be old, bald, and wrinkly&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but i'll still want to hold your hand&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;one day, we'll rock on the front porch for hours&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;having conversations we don't understand&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but for now, we're young and we're in love&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and we're eating ramen and drinking tea&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but for now, we're struggling to buy couches&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and we're wondering how life is gonna be&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;and we'll say oh, oh, oh - if we'd only known&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;things might have turned a different way&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;and we'll say oh, oh, oh - i wouldn't change a thing though&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;because i woke up to your face every day&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;one day, we'll laugh at all the little silly things&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;we argued about along the way&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;one day, we'll wonder why we ever had a plan&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and we'll be glad that plan went astray&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but for now, we're living and we're learning&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and we're trying to fit everything in&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but for now, we're discussing the pros and cons of doorknobs&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and wondering when life's gonna begin&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and we'll say oh, oh, oh - if we'd only known&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;things might have turned a different way&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and we'll say oh, oh, oh - i wouldn't change a thing though&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;because i woke up to your face every day&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but for now, we're silly stupid happy&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and it's a blessing beyond what we could dream&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but for now, we're taking it one day at a time&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and knowing we've got a lot of life to see&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-7267866510751424743?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/7267866510751424743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-oh-oh-if-wed-only-known.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/7267866510751424743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/7267866510751424743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-oh-oh-if-wed-only-known.html' title='oh, oh, oh, if we&apos;d only known'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5661051134515574485</id><published>2009-11-05T02:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T02:22:27.865-06:00</updated><title type='text'>stuff so far</title><content type='html'>So just doing a brief post about what I've pulled out of my journey through the Old Testament so far...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What the Bible says about God:  direct excerpts from NLV Genesis - some of Exodus.  Not cited (although they are in my journal.)  The stuff in bold is stuff it shows God specifically saying about Himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God created.  Spirit of God.  &lt;b&gt;Let us... in our image, to be like ourselves.  Like us, knowing good and evil. &lt;/b&gt; The Lord was sorry he had ever made them and put them on earth.  It broke His heart.  &lt;b&gt;I am El-Shaddai - God Almighty.  I will always be your God and the God of the descendants after you.&lt;/b&gt;  The Lord kept His word.  The Eternal God.  The Lord of heaven and earth.  &lt;b&gt;I am the God of your father Abraham.  I am the God who appeared to you at Bethel, the place where you anointed the pillar of stone and made your vow to me. &lt;/b&gt; In fact, if not for the God of my father - the God of Abraham and the fearsome God of Isaac - you would have sent me away empty-handed.  I call on the God of our ancestors - the God of your grandfather Abraham and the God of my grandfather Nahor - to serve as a judge between us.  The fearsome God of his father Isaac.  &lt;b&gt;The God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau. &lt;/b&gt; The God who answered my prayers when I was in distress.  He has been with me wherever I have gone. &lt;b&gt; I am El Shaddai - God Almighty.&lt;/b&gt; The Lord was with Joseph in the prison and showed him His faithful love.  God can tell you what it means and set you at ease.  It was God who sent me here ahead of you to preserve your lives.  God has sent me ahead of you to keep you and your families alive and to preserve many survivors.  So it was God who sent me here, not you.  &lt;b&gt;I am God, the God of your father.  God Almighty.  God Almighty.&lt;/b&gt;  May the God before whom my grandfather Abraham and my father, Isaac, walked - the God who has been my shepherd all my life, to this very day, the Angel who has redeemed me from all harm.  I trust in you for salvation, O Lord.  The hands of the Mighty One of Jacob, by the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel.  Don't be afraid of me.  Am I God, that I can punish you?  You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good.  He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.  &lt;b&gt;I am the God of your father - the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.  I will be with you.  I AM who I AM.  Say this to the people of Israel: I AM has sent me to you. Yahweh, the God of your ancestors - the God o Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob - has sent me to you.  This my eternal name, my name to remember for all generations.  The Lord, the God of the Hebrews.  Who makes a person's mouth?  Who decides whether people speak or do not speak, hear or do not hear, see or do not see?  Is it not I, the Lord? Now go!  I will be with you as you speak and I will instruct you in what to say.  I am Yahweh - the Lord.  I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as El-Shaddai - God Almighty, but I did not reveal my name, Yahweh, to them.  I am the Lord.  I will free you from your oppression and will rescue you from your slavery in Egypt.  I will redeem you with a powerful arm and acts of great judgment.  I will claim you as my own people, and I will be your God.  Then you will know htat I am the Lord your God who has freed you from your oppression in Egypt.  I am the Lord.  I am the Lord!  When I raise my powerful hand and bring out the Israelites, the Egyptians will know that I am Lord.  The Lord, the God of the Hebrews.  I will show you that I am the Lord.&lt;/b&gt;  This is the finger of God.  &lt;b&gt;Then you will know that I am the Lord and that I am present even in the heart of your land.  The Lord, the God of the Hebrews.  Then you will know that there is no one like me in all the earth.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5661051134515574485?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5661051134515574485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/11/stuff-so-far.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5661051134515574485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5661051134515574485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/11/stuff-so-far.html' title='stuff so far'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-1973045916538196468</id><published>2009-10-22T22:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T23:08:33.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what do i know of holy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So I think it's pretty cool how things have worked out lately for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found myself drawn towards the Timothys (which I love) and read them.  Then moved in natural progression to Titus.  But then found myself stuck because I've read the New Testament so many times that everything felt pretty fresh.  I started reading Acts again, but two nights into decided that didn't feel like what I was supposed to be doing at the moment.  So I pulled out my phone and found a random number website.  I told it to select a number between 1 and whatever the last page number in my Bible is with the idea that I would read where I ended up.  Well, it sent me to 2 Samuel, which I read what was on that page that night and found myself wanting it more in context.  So the next night, I decided I should start 1 Samuel and read through it and 2 Samuel.  I started it but the previous night had caused me to face some serious questions.  I'm very uncomfortable with questions and doubts that I can't answer (due to my own arrogance I think).  Anyways, so I was at Bible Study and started talking to someone there about it who mentioned (as I said in the last post) "Well, you just have to have in your mind who God is and take it from there."  And that made me decide to start at the beginning and read through the Bible looking for all of who God is and not the mere pieces I've pieced together in mind of who I think He should be.  God isn't subjective.  He is who He is, and He's never been anything different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, then Brittany loaned us Crazy Love and the first three chapters were extremely relevant to questions I've had and things I'm trying to discover.  Unfortunately, I only made it halfway through it before having to leave it with Josh.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then today, I heard this on the radio for the first time and connected with it in the second line.  In fact, as soon as I heard the second line, I pulled out my phone and made it my Facebook status.  It felt like someone had gotten in my head, organized the thoughts, and put them into a beautiful song.  And now it's on repeat on my iTunes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What do I know of Holy?" - Addison Road&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;I've made you promises a thousand times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've tried to hear from heaven&lt;br /&gt;But I talk the whole time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I made you too small&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I've never feared you at all&lt;/b&gt;, no&lt;br /&gt;If you touched my face would I know you&lt;br /&gt;Looked into my eyes could I behold you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of you&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along your ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you fire, are you fury&lt;br /&gt;Are you sacred, are you beautiful&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I know&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of holy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I thought that I had you figured out&lt;br /&gt;I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about&lt;br /&gt;How you were mighty to save&lt;br /&gt;But those were only empty words on a page&lt;br /&gt;Then I caught a glimpse of who you might be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The slightest hint of you brought me down to my knees&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of you&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along your ocean&lt;br /&gt;Are you fire, are you fury&lt;br /&gt;Are you sacred, are you beautiful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;So what do I know&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of holy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of Holy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame&lt;br /&gt;And a God who gave life its name&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;What do I know of Holy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the One who the angels praise&lt;br /&gt;All creation knows your name&lt;br /&gt;On earth and heaven above&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of this love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of you&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along your ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Are you fire, are you fury&lt;br /&gt;Are you sacred, are you beautiful&lt;br /&gt;So what do I know&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of holy &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-1973045916538196468?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/1973045916538196468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-do-i-know-of-holy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1973045916538196468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1973045916538196468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-do-i-know-of-holy.html' title='what do i know of holy'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5951520934702906304</id><published>2009-10-12T22:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T22:30:22.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my eyes are small but they have seen the beauty of enormous things</title><content type='html'>I haven't written about spiritual stuff lately because I'm attempting to read through parts of the Old Testament which raises a lot of questions and very little answers for me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I spoke with a friend about it tonight and they mentioned having a firm knowledge in your head of who God is and then taking it from there.  It made me realize that most often I associate God with love, hope, mercy, grace, forgiveness, salvation, but that God is more than just those things.  Therefore, I think I am going to halt within the book of 1 Samuel, go back to the beginning, and begin reading the Bible with the primary goal of discovering who God is.  I hope to be diligent in this and keep a journal where I can write down everything that God is said to be or shown to be as I go along.  I think a lot of doubts or internal spiritual battles stem from not having a firm faith in all that God is.  I think if I go through and put everything down where I can look back on it, it will help a lot as I encounter things I don't understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, that's my plan, so hopefully I'll be finding more to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ciao.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5951520934702906304?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5951520934702906304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-eyes-are-small-but-they-have-seen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5951520934702906304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5951520934702906304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-eyes-are-small-but-they-have-seen.html' title='my eyes are small but they have seen the beauty of enormous things'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-2068435858692435882</id><published>2009-10-05T17:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T17:51:51.511-05:00</updated><title type='text'>short</title><content type='html'>We close on the house Wednesday.  Hooray!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is still very busy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-2068435858692435882?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/2068435858692435882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/10/short.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2068435858692435882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2068435858692435882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/10/short.html' title='short'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5284628029183497358</id><published>2009-09-11T22:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T23:02:05.319-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the life i have now, it is only the beginning</title><content type='html'>School has started back, and everything has definitely been a little chaotic.  I did get to drop a class though, so that helps tremendously.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm in a social media class this semester that actually requires blogging.  Unfortunately, this blog doesn't count. :/   Either way, I think it's pretty cool.  I'm also in a criminal psychology class that might scare the crap out of me by the end of the semester.  The professor will say things like "Studies have shown people who watch crime shows like CSI, etc., are more afraid of violent things happening to them and view the world as a more dangerous place than it actually is."  Then she'll follow it 30 minutes later with a story about people in Nashville prisons for sex crimes and dismemberment with anti-social personality disorder or schizophrenia.  Not just one or two people, but several.  She'll end the story with "And these people get out!  They walk the streets of Nashville everyday!"   Cue the trembling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Personal selling is frustrating for me.  I'm interested in the subject, but it's my only lecture-style class and it falls between 2:40 and 4:05 which happens to be when I am the most tired throughout the day.  I'm definitely not on top of my game in there.  And I used to work for the professor, so I know he expects more of me. :/  So far, I messed up the formatting of an assignment and I don't have the book in time for the next one so he's having to lend one to me.  Blah.  In my defense, the book should be here Wednesday.  The assignment is due Tuesday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Campaigns is fine.  I'm the account executive which means I have the most responsibility within the group, but I also am the only one up for extra credit.  Plus, it's what I want to do in my career eventually.  It's incredibly time-consuming though.  Tomorrow will be spent on campaign research and my weekly Professional Writing assignments.  I'm taking Professional Writing online, but she requires two thoroughly written assignments per week.  That's kind of a lot considering the workload in the rest of my classes.  I'm hoping it will help me out in my career though.  My campaigns/ad management/copywriting/survey of ad/ad club faculty advisor/professor recommended it.  And yes, that is all the same person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm struggling with ad club.  None of the speakers or the client have gotten back to me and I kind of need everything together by Tuesday.  It's stressful, and I'm not quite sure what to do about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm missing church and bible study terribly.  I don't really realize what a difference they make until I haven't been exposed in a month.  They both stimulate me spiritually and without them, I'm feeling a little stagnant.  I'm reading my Bible and everything, but it just feels like a piece is missing.  Christian radio has really my biggest outlet over the last month.  Listening to the words gets me thinking and praying.  Not to mention, I get a lot less annoyed while driving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nothing else to say really, so I'll leave you with the lyrics that are stuck in my head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans; font-size: small; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "&gt;&lt;div id="songlyrics"&gt;Today I found myself&lt;br /&gt;After searching all these years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the man that I saw, he wasn't at all who I thought he'd be&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lost when you found me here&lt;br /&gt;And I was &lt;b&gt;broken beyond repair&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you came along and you sang your song over me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm born again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;It feels like I'm living&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;br /&gt;In my life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a promise to me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Reassure my heart somehow&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That the love that I feel is so much more real than anything&lt;br /&gt;I've a feeling in my soul&lt;br /&gt;And I pray that I'm not wrong&lt;br /&gt;That the life I have now, &lt;b&gt;it is only the beginning&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm born again&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm living&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;It feels like I'm breathing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm moving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;For the very first time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't looking for something that was more&lt;br /&gt;Than what I had yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Then you came to me and you gave to me&lt;br /&gt;Life and a love that I've never known&lt;br /&gt;That I've never felt before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm born again&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm living&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;br /&gt;I'm living for the first time&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm breathing&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm moving&lt;br /&gt;For the very first time&lt;br /&gt;I'm living for the first time&lt;br /&gt;In my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5284628029183497358?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5284628029183497358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-i-have-now-it-is-only-beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5284628029183497358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5284628029183497358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-i-have-now-it-is-only-beginning.html' title='the life i have now, it is only the beginning'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-1189938746556111628</id><published>2009-08-25T09:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T09:57:23.895-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SpP5otlmvLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/O7nqIowS7bI/s320/6096_1224273048131_1268136623_648237_5651491_n.jpg'/><title type='text'>busy, busy, busy</title><content type='html'>I need to go to the vet and home depot and do some laundry and workout and pack... but I am on here instead enjoying a few minutes of  peace.  I already knocked ad club stuff off the to-do list for today, so i feel okay about it hah&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've been going non-stop since Thursday, the 13th, which I just realized is the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; last time I posted.  I guess that isn't entirely true.  I had a lot of free time in Florida last week while Josh worked, but it just felt busy since we were gone I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We made an offer on a house in Clermont, but it's not looking very good.  There are 7 other offers on the table and the realtor has implied that while ours is near the best, it isn't quite there  We've made a list of other houses to look at when we go down there tomorrow.  I know Josh has to work Wednesday though and our realtor is busy Thursday I think, so we'll have to fit them all in on Friday and Saturday.  The one I had originally really liked but was pending when we were there last week is now back on the market, so I'm excited to see it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Presidium was this past weekend.  I expected to really dislike it, but I'm actually really glad I went.  There are some truly amazing people at MTSU that I never would have met otherwise.  I also got a lot of ideas/interest for ad club which is always a good thing.  I didn't take any pictures, but I noticed that I had shown up in a couple of someone else's.  For some reason these uploaded in reverse order than I ha meant for them too and now wont reverse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm in the back corner with my family group in this one hah, which seems silly to keep, but like I said - I didn't take any pictures his weekend, so I'll take what I can get.  My family group was made up of me with Ad club, Kim with Psy Chi, 3 guys with frats, one girl with Collage, one guy with the BCM, and one girl with... like 5 organizations and I can't remember all their names.  Our leader was a pastor which is pretty cool.  Anyways, very different organizations, but everyone got along which was nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SpP5o573gvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WuBzDPSzSOc/s320/6096_1224273448141_1268136623_648244_1496403_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373913261525140210" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, the bottom picture actually happened before the top picture.  We did this thing where you take this test that associates your personality with a color.  Orange is creative, fun, bored easily, flexible, expects things to be done now, quick temper.  Gold is rigid, conservative, by the book, wants things done right.  Green is calm, analytical, likes challenges, doesn't respond well to ignorant or unmotivated people, sarcastic.  Blue is emotional, affectionate, empathetic, values relationships.   I'm an orange.  Josh is so green it's ridiculous.  So in the skits we were supposed to show how all the colors work together.  The bottom pictures are supposed to be taking fifty kindergardeners to the zoo.  I was the out-of-control orange child trying to get in the lions cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SpP5otlmvLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/O7nqIowS7bI/s320/6096_1224273048131_1268136623_648237_5651491_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373913258210540722" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SpP5oNSuQ1I/AAAAAAAAAEg/o99wmUC17Ks/s320/6096_1224273008130_1268136623_648236_4844019_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373913249541407570" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yikes, it's almost ten.  I really do need to go to the vet now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-1189938746556111628?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/1189938746556111628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/08/busy-busy-busy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1189938746556111628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1189938746556111628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/08/busy-busy-busy.html' title='busy, busy, busy'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SpP5o573gvI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WuBzDPSzSOc/s72-c/6096_1224273448141_1268136623_648244_1496403_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-228765827581685903</id><published>2009-08-13T23:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T23:55:00.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>books, books, books</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;I stole this from someone's facebook, so I'm doing it differently.  This was fun for me because I had to actually think about why these books stick with me, which is what I chose to explain instead of tagging 15 people :P   These are in no particular order.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. List 15 books you've read that will always stick with you. They should be the first 15 you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. Tag 15 friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what books my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your Profile page, paste rules in a new Note, cast your 15 picks, and tag people in the Note.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color: #333333; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;15. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Shack&lt;/span&gt;  -  This book showed God to me in a way that no other book has before (aside from the books of the Bible).  It's controversial, but I still love the concepts it brings about and showing God who comes into the middle of someone's pain and reveals Himself in an incredible way.  To me, it just shows the hugely personal side of God that I think corporate religion so often forgets&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;14. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;k&lt;/span&gt; - This book deals with teen rape.  I read it long before I probably should have and it's fiction, but I think what really stuck out to me about it is how it left me with such a desire to be compassionate towards people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;13. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blue Like Jazz&lt;/span&gt; - I love how genuine Donald Miller comes across in this book.  Christian books are always very hit or miss with me and this one was a definite hit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;12.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Love &amp;amp; Respect&lt;/span&gt; - Read this right after getting married.  It put some things into perspective for me that I just hadn't thought about prior to reading it.  I know it's somewhat redundant, but I actually think that's great because messages from this book come back to me all the time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;11. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Giver&lt;/span&gt; - I can't really describe why I loved this book...  Read it for the first time in middle school and it just always stuck with me.  I have no idea how many times I've read it now.. A lot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color:#333333;"&gt;10. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Great Gatsby&lt;/span&gt; -  The first book read in school that I actually liked.  It has definitely made me want to read more great american classics, and I have bought some, but am yet to finish any of them yet hah&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;9. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Book of Lost Things&lt;/span&gt; - This book is a little eery and deals with fairy tales.  I actually like that the fairy tales in this book aren't about happily ever afters.  It's a unique and fresh perspective.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;8. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seventeenth Summer&lt;/span&gt; - This book reminded me a lot of how i felt as i gradually fell in love with Josh as a teenager.  I've read Nicholas Sparks and all, but as far as romance stories go, this is the one I connected with the most (although The Notebook is probably closer to my actual story haha)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;7.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; In the Lake of the Woods&lt;/span&gt; - I had a craving for a new book, but Josh and I were trying not to spend money, so I raided his book collection and walked away with this.  It's gritty and interesting and the first war book I had ever read.  I couldn't believe I liked it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;6.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Sex God&lt;/span&gt; - It seems like sex is such a taboo subject in church, or at least it was for me growing up.  I think I would have viewed it differently if I had read this book back then.  It really deals with how sex relates to God and what its purpose is.  It doesn't take the romance out at all.  If anything, it makes the idea of sex an even more romantic concept.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;5. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wicked&lt;/span&gt; - combines my love of theatre and love of reading...  It was a little too graphic in some areas, but the overall story is great&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;4. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Kill A Mockingbird &lt;/span&gt;- I read half of this in high school and then started with the cliffnotes.  I eventually went back and read the whole thing and loved it.  Deals with some major issues.  It actually reminds me of a case that went down in my grandparent's town in the early 20th century.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;3. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Diary of a Young Girl (Anne Frank)&lt;/span&gt; - I think it's important to be moved by historical horrors and to be reminded of what should never be allowed to occur again.  There are many Holocaust books that have touched me (Katarina was the first one), but I like that this one is an accurate account.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p color="#333333" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color: #333333"&gt;2. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Chronicles of Narnia (whole series) &lt;/span&gt; -  Apologetics meets children's books... yes please.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color: #333333"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Lucida Grande; color: #333333"&gt;1. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harry Potter (whole series)&lt;/span&gt; - I just love that after years and years of being nicknamed "Whitney Library" and being made fun of for loving to read... Harry Potter made reading cool.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-228765827581685903?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/228765827581685903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-stole-this-from-someones-facebook-so.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/228765827581685903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/228765827581685903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-stole-this-from-someones-facebook-so.html' title='books, books, books'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-8970676043237579904</id><published>2009-07-22T16:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T16:55:21.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>pull me closer to love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="border-collapse: collapse;   font-family:verdana;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So I went to Toys-R-Us today to get a baby shower gift.  I found most everything I wanted to get her, but I remembered a pacifier/pacifier keeper set at target that I thought she would like as well.  They didn't have it at Toys-R-Us so I decided to make the Target trip.   As I was walking around, I noticed a guy.. early twenties-ish.. leaning up against the corner of target.  He was holding a cardboard sign, but I couldn't read what it said and I didn't want to turn around and stare.  As I walked out of view of the guy and his sign towards my car, I knew I was supposed to go back.  I in no way wanted to because I've always held the "they'll use it on drugs or alcohol theory" and I felt quite sure he wanted money.  Either way, it was a knowledge way too strong not to ignore and that just driving away would be basically disobedience to God.  So I literally closed my car door, muttered "crap", and drove back up to the front of Target to read his sign.  It said "Pretty much screwed.  Anything helps."  I rarely carry cash but knew I had $5 in my wallet, so I looked away from him and towards the parking lot to find a place to park to go back to him.  The closest non-handicapped spot to the door was open with no one in the aisle waiting on it which has never happened to me in the two years I've been going to Murfreesboro's Target.  I pulled in, got out the money, and walked up to the guy.  He had headphones on and was looking down and moving his fingers as though he were playing guitar.  He looked up and realized I was coming towards him.  He took the headphones out and as I approached, I was nearly knocked back by his ice blue eyes and the entire aura of normalcy that he gave off.  I gave the him the money and told him I hoped things get better for him.  He said he was hoping they would soon and gave me this weary half smile.  I walked off with so many things running through my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It occurred to me that with his headphones and non-ragged clothes, he could just be playing me and use the money for something completely unimportant, but I remembered Matt Reed once saying "It doesn't matter how he uses it.  You still get the blessing and you still showed love."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I then started thinking about how normal he was in a different light.  I realized that Josh and I could easily lose everything.  I started thinking about how giving what we have helps us lose our attachment to it.  I think generosity is (obviously) the best cure to selfishness, but along with that, depression, greed, coveting, etc.  I think a content person is a generous person.  The line from a Mat Kearney song ran through my head "We're all one phone call from our knees."   I thought about how true that was and then decided to turn on my radio.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Where naturally that song was playing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I then started thinking about how much of loving people isn't even about other people.  So much of loving people involves me and God and where my heart lies and what he's showing me and whether or not I'm trusting him with everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I got home with this crazy indescribable peace about Josh and me and our finances and job situation.  It was just a good afternoon. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And here is the song b/c I now have extra affection for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;She got the call today&lt;br /&gt;One out of the gray&lt;br /&gt;And when the smoke cleared&lt;br /&gt;It took her breath away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said she didn't believe&lt;br /&gt;It could happen to me&lt;br /&gt;I guess we're all one phone call from our knees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If every building falls&lt;br /&gt;And all the stars fade&lt;br /&gt;We'll still be singing this song&lt;br /&gt;The one they can't take away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;She's gonna be there too&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' in her room&lt;br /&gt;Prayin' oh, Lord come through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's your light&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's your way&lt;br /&gt;Pull me out of the dark&lt;br /&gt;Just to shoulder the weight&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' out now&lt;br /&gt;From so far away&lt;br /&gt;You pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet me once again&lt;br /&gt;Down off Lake Michigan&lt;br /&gt;Where we could feel the storm blowin'&lt;br /&gt;Down with the wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't apologize&lt;br /&gt;For all the tears you've cried&lt;br /&gt;You've been way too strong now for all your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;You're gonna be there too&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' in your room&lt;br /&gt;Prayin' Lord come through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're gonna get there soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's your light&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's your way&lt;br /&gt;Pull me out of the dark&lt;br /&gt;Just to shoulder the weight&lt;br /&gt;Cryin' out now&lt;br /&gt;From so far away&lt;br /&gt;You pull me closer to love&lt;br /&gt;Closer to love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you are all that I've waited for all of my life&lt;br /&gt;(We're gonna get there)&lt;br /&gt;You are all that I've waited all of my life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-8970676043237579904?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/8970676043237579904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/07/pull-me-closer-to-love.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8970676043237579904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8970676043237579904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/07/pull-me-closer-to-love.html' title='pull me closer to love'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5066092472044217643</id><published>2009-07-21T00:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:38:48.449-05:00</updated><title type='text'>you have suffered enough and warred with yourself.  its time that you won.</title><content type='html'>i was thinking of all sorts of things that i wanted to blog about earlier, but now it is 12:30 a.m. and I've got nothing.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love that being broken before God doesn't mean consumed by guilt or afraid of disappointment.  i love that everything is better when I lay broken at his feet and let him build me back up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love that he surprises me.  just as i start to accept an undesirable situation as the norm, he switches it up on me.  he lets me know he is still there and is working in ways i can't see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i love that he humbles me.  i love that just when i think i have someone figured out, he lets me see a part of them that i had lost sight of.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate that i always notice when i end a sentence with a preposition..  That last sentence is driving me crazy, but I think it would sound silly to say "a part of them of which I have lost sight."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and so i will end this blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5066092472044217643?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5066092472044217643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-have-suffered-enough-and-warred.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5066092472044217643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5066092472044217643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-have-suffered-enough-and-warred.html' title='you have suffered enough and warred with yourself.  its time that you won.'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5498620322080178363</id><published>2009-07-06T15:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T16:02:33.607-05:00</updated><title type='text'>incredibly bored</title><content type='html'>i don't really have anything specific on my mind, but i'm bored.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i've been diving head-first into ad club stuff over the past week.  i'm pretty excited about it, which makes me feel like a nerd.  i'm just afraid all this stuff i'm planning for is going to fall through which would honestly be a little heartbreaking as i'm finally starting to talk to people who are getting excited about ad club stuff as well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm kind of weirded out that it's already July.  this year is absolutely flying by.  i also realized a couple of days ago that i will have known josh for 7 years in September.  that's  a third of my life and entirely bizarre to think about.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he's pretty great, by the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate commas :/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm actually ready for it to be tomorrow b/c of bible study.  i love that josh is actually getting to go with me again hah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i bought okra today because josh said he would eat it, but i forgot to get cornmeal.  that's what happens when i don't make a list :/.   On the upside, I spent less than $80 and have enough for meals the rest of this week and hopefully part of next week as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;meh, i'm so bored.  if it didn't mean josh leaving, i'd almost wish school would start back just for the company/stuff to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i'm unbelievably ready to graduate.  and for josh's company to tell us for 100% sure what is going on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;theee enndd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5498620322080178363?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5498620322080178363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/07/incredibly-bored.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5498620322080178363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5498620322080178363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/07/incredibly-bored.html' title='incredibly bored'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-1225565603768287718</id><published>2009-06-29T23:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T23:51:14.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>let them hear you through me</title><content type='html'>Profanity bothers me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not in the way you may think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at the 2007 Passion Conference in Atlanta, John Piper made comment referring to pride and God kicking the arse of prideful servants.  He did not use the British version of the word.  At the time, I was truly taken aback.  I couldn't believe he had said that in front of thousands of students at a Christian conference.  It was naturally a hot topic of conversation and as we got on the van to head to wherever it was we were going, the guy in front of me turned around and stated "But the context in which he used it was absolutely beautiful and true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That really hit me.  Piper was saying some incredibly important things that so many, including myself, needed to hear, yet I missed the whole message because I was hung up on a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings two questions:&lt;br /&gt;1.  What is the intent behind banning certain words?&lt;br /&gt;2.  Is it the intent or the word that matters more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it actually raises 2 more questions, but I'll get to those momentarily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, the Bible:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ephesians 5:4 &lt;br /&gt;Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ephesians 4:29&lt;br /&gt;Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James 3:5-12&lt;br /&gt;Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and creatures of the sea are being tamed and have been tamed by man, but no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.  With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness.   Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 34:11-13&lt;br /&gt;Come, my children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the LORD.  Whoever of you loves life and desires to see many good days, keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proverbs 8:13&lt;br /&gt;To fear the LORD is to hate evil;  I hate pride and arrogance, evil behavior and perverse speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my deduction:  I think it is far worse to use words like "worthless", "piece of crap", "stupid whore", "dead to me", "not good enough", "undeserving", etc, etc to tear people down than for someone to tell me I did a kick-arse job on a presentation.  For me, it's so much more about the intent.  I believe word choice is just that - a personal choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally try to avoid using those words at this point in my life because they can be offensive to so many people, even though they may not even have a reason why they are offended by them.  However, I don't find the words in and of themselves to be wrong, and I never want anyone to feel uncomfortable or judged for saying those words around me.  And I never want someone to feel I base their character off simple words.  It's just silly.  Words can reveal the heart, of course, but it's the message behind the words, not the words themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is the second set of questions the Piper incident opened up for me.&lt;br /&gt;1.  Piper's word choice caused many students who may not have been listening to pay attention to what Piper was talking about.  He made some feel unjudged and came across as someone who cared far more about saving souls and changing lives than following rules about word usage.  Should words like that be deliberately used in certain audiences to reach them?&lt;br /&gt;2.  Piper's word choice caused me personally to become so hung up on the word that I missed the message.  Is it better to refrain from the word in order to not alienate any of the audience, although you may not be reaching some or appearing as "real"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I am stuck.  I feel as though words can get you labeled as "genuine" or a "hypocrite".  Again, I find this utterly ridiculous because they are just words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I am an advocate of:  Words don't hurt people.  People hurt people. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-1225565603768287718?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/1225565603768287718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/06/let-them-hear-you-through-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1225565603768287718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1225565603768287718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/06/let-them-hear-you-through-me.html' title='let them hear you through me'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-1129485850157851459</id><published>2009-06-16T00:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T00:29:51.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>love you more - james william hindle</title><content type='html'>i searched for these lyrics tonight and it irritated me that i couldn't find them anywhere.  they aren't going to win any awards or anything, but i still really like the song.  so for any future lyric-looker-uppers, here they are:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;i love you more than i could ever say, or sing, or even show&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;but i need to have you near so i can feel your heart next to mine&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;just so you'll know&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;i'm never going anywhere&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;i'll always be right there when you need me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;because i care&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and if i'm shallow, cold, and empty&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;it's because i feel so strong about you&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;i apologize for all the times i hurt you&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;i didn't mean to &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;that much is true&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;and at the end of the day&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;the only thing that matters is&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;i love you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-1129485850157851459?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/1129485850157851459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-you-more-james-william-hindle.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1129485850157851459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1129485850157851459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-you-more-james-william-hindle.html' title='love you more - james william hindle'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-402129296154363450</id><published>2009-06-07T00:29:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T00:59:16.224-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the Christian rant</title><content type='html'>So something has occurred to me lately.  Thus, I am blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First - I bought Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred DVD - thanks to Missy's miraculous powers of persuasion.  I've only been doing it 2 days, but it's completely kicking my butt.  I'm sore from head to toe.  Didn't help that I spent most of the day hiking and climbing haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, on to other things.  I feel like it's incredibly easy for us as Christians to defend ourselves against from being kept accountable by saying "You're not supposed to judge."  This somewhat builds on my last post.  I was so afraid of coming across as judgmental and harsh, but I really think it's sad that it comes down to that.  I said what I said with complete love and respect.  Should that not just be accountability?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know the ten commandments, but I think it's way too easy to take them at face value.  We know not to murder or covet, commit adultery or steal.  We understand that murder includes hatred and adultery includes lust after anyone who isn't your spouse.  We know God's standards are so incredibly high, so why do we stop there with those commandments?  If two have such high standards, wouldn't it be easy to say the others probably have higher standards than just face value?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the one that I've really been thinking about lately:  We're commanded not to take God's name in vain.  Here are the first three commandments via Exodus 20:2-7 NIV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.  (1) You shall have no other gods before me. (2)  You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand {generations} of those who love me and keep my commandments. (3) You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God, for the LORD will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the first three commandments have to do with preserving the holiness and glory of God.  He is first.  He is the only.  And He is not to be taken lightly.  He lays that all out on the table before moving on to everything else.  Why?  Personally, I think it's to make sure you listen to the rest.  If you know he is the one and only most important thing/person/deity (no idea what noun should go here) in life and you know He expects you to take that seriously, you get a little healthy respect and take His words with all the salt you can find.  You know that whatever comes after that.. He means business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually think these first three commandments are the ones we break the most.  It's not uncommon to hear a church sermon or bible study message on putting things before God and virtually making idols out of those things, but how often do we talk about what it means and the severity of misusing the name of God?  If he put in in the top ten back in the day, it's clearly a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm crazy guilty of this in the obvious sense of saying "OMG" when shocked or surprised by something.  And it's something I will continue to work on.  However, I think the biggest misuse of the name of the Lord is actually in the word "Christian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, countless sermons have reminded us that "Christian" means "little Christ."  To call ourselves little Christ.. that is a HUGE thing.  That means things!  It isn't to be taken lightly at all!  If we're going to label ourselves with the name of our Savior, we'd better be prepared to make that mean something.  We have to be held accountable to what Christ did and called us to do.  Otherwise, in my personal opinion and strongly held belief, we are absolutely misusing the name of Christ, which I'm thinking falls in with commandment number 3 due to the whole trinity thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we form tightly held cliques in our churches, the places that are supposed to offer hope and warmth and love to anyone who walks through the door, and we let the world associate our cliques with being "Christians", we're misusing His name.  When we value Pharasitic (not a word, but work with me here) rules more than relationships and label ourselves "Christians" for following those rules, we're misusing His name.  When we refuse to get angry over injustices and give in to timidity or conformity, we are misusing His name!  I do it so much more than I even realize.    And I realize that to so many people I know and so many people I grew up with, this is blatantly offensive.  But if we call ourselves Christians, we MUST be held accountable to what that means or we trivialize what being "little Christs" to the world is really about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That overlooked commandment is really such a big deal.  It's why we've lost so many people to the belief that we're snobby or hypocrites or want nothing more than to bring them down or that we're indifferent to their problems or needs or indifferent to human suffering general.  And it's something I think we all do and all will keep doing much like hate and lust.  I think those things kind of creep up on us because we're human.  But I also believe that the only way to change behavior is to acknowledge the full extent of the problem.  Maybe we just don't think about it enough.  Maybe if we think about it more, things can start to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is such a rant.  I don't mean to sound angry, but the truth is I kind of am.  I don't like seeing the name of our Savior become meaningless or worse.  I don't like being someone who is contributing to that.  So anyways, it's just something I've come to realize to its full extent lately, and it's something I desperately want to work on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End Rant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-402129296154363450?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/402129296154363450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/06/christan-rant.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/402129296154363450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/402129296154363450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/06/christan-rant.html' title='the Christian rant'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-4099174094049831099</id><published>2009-05-26T17:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T17:23:12.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>knowing when to reject silence</title><content type='html'>growing up i was always intimidated by the oh-so strong faith of those I was spiritually mentored by.  As I get older, I start to see holes in the faith and practice of those I owe so much to.  I guess what's hard now is knowing when it's appropriate to say something, because sometimes these people I love and respect and who are so much wiser than me get clouded by emotions and truly get it wrong.  I don't want to judge others, but I know we're supposed to keep each other accountable, because we're not perfect and sometimes an outside perspective is necessary to get past those emotional blinders.  I guess for me it's hard because I'm always younger and always with a harder past and I always make excuses for why this or that isn't my place.  But in the back of my head is a nagging voice telling me to remember 1 Timothy 4:11 &amp;amp; 12  "Teach these things and insist that everyone learn them. &lt;sup id="en-NLT-29719" class="versenum" value="12" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: text-top; line-height: normal; "&gt;12&lt;/sup&gt; Don’t let anyone think less of you because you are young. Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity" and 2 Timothy 1:7 "For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline."   So today I finally took a step forward and said something to someone I respect so much.  It was one of those things where the triggering event happened and I knew instantly that I was supposed to say something, and oh let me tell you, I in no way wanted to.  I got this fluttering in my stomach and this fear of being offensive.  Fortunately, not long ago in our small group, we mentioned how easy it is to ignore something God is telling us to do.  I'm supposed to bold and empowered by God.  I can't keep ignoring what I know He is saying to my heart.  I can't keep quiet.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I won't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-4099174094049831099?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/4099174094049831099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/05/growing-up-i-was-always-intimidated-by.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4099174094049831099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4099174094049831099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/05/growing-up-i-was-always-intimidated-by.html' title='knowing when to reject silence'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-8918205254668000010</id><published>2009-05-22T01:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T01:43:37.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the relevance of country music.</title><content type='html'>so basically, this sums up what i'm thinking most nights before sleeping.  thank you, brad paisley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;except you know, josh isn't a girl and won't be having babies.  but the general idea, nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre  style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I remember trying not to stare the night that I first met you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You had me mesmerized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;3 weeks later in the front porch light taking 45 min to kiss you goodnight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;I hadn’t told you yet but I thought I loved you then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now you’re my whole life; now you’re my whole world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I just can’t believe the way I feel about you girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Like a river meets the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Stronger than it’s ever been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;We’ve come so far since that day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And I thought I loved you then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I remember taking you back to right where I first met you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;You were so surprised &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;There were people around &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But I didn’t care I got down on one knee right there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And once again I thought I loved you then &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Now you’re my whole life; now you’re my whole world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I just can’t believe the way I feel about you girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Like a river meets the sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Stronger than it’s ever been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We’ve come so far since that day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And I thought I loved you then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can just see you with a baby on the way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can just see you when your hair is turning gray&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;What I can’t see is how I’m ever gonna love you more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;" &gt;But I’ve said that before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Now you’re my whole life; now you’re my whole world&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I just can’t believe the way I feel about you girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Well look back some day at this moment that we’re in&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And I'll look at you and say &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I thought I loved you then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-8918205254668000010?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/8918205254668000010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/05/relevance-of-country-music.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8918205254668000010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8918205254668000010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/05/relevance-of-country-music.html' title='the relevance of country music.'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-2992166242462937149</id><published>2009-05-05T23:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T16:48:11.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>change</title><content type='html'>i just completed my last final (yes, at 11:30.. oh the joys of an online class), and i'm feeling strange as I consider that this time next year, i'll have been in a new state w/ hopefully a new job for several months. this semester has been a good one. last semester was kind of crazy with adjusting to more hours with school and married life in conjunction with being a college student. this semester was more about finding my routine and getting some consistency. it's been fun to slip into the new normal routine with josh. but sure enough, just as things are settled, everything will get turned upside down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my final semester is going to look a lot different. josh will be in a different state. that's easily the biggest difference. i also don't know what department i'll work in.. hopefully still management and marketing, but my boss passed away on sunday and she's the one who assigned positions and made the schedule, so i'm not quite sure. it will be really strange not working with her either way. i'm also our ad club president. the club is in a transition stage. this semester's presidents got it organized. my job is grow the club and help it gain some recognition on campus. we also have an opportunity to implement a campaign for a company in murfreesboro, but the time-demands and size of our club makes that seem difficult. i may leave developing an agency to the next president. i'm just not sure yet. i'll be in a campaigns class of my own and only taking 15 hours - which is an incredible blessing because campaigns alone is the time-equivilant of a 9 hour class. the familiar faces and in-class friends i've made over the last 2 semesters within my department are all graduating in may or august.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;point being: i'm excited but incredibly nervous for my final semester. i think i'm in denial about the stress of trying to land a job in a place where i have no contacts. everything i think about it, i start to freak out. i've got some time, so i'm just ignoring it for now and focusing on building my resume. regardless of the economy and the move and all the stuff that comes with moving to the next stage in life, i still wouldn't change it. a girl graduating in may told me today "i would give anything to be 16 again." i still firmly stand solid in the fact that you could not pay me enough money to be 16 again. i had no idea who i was or where i was going. i still don't know where i'm going or where i'll end up, but i know exactly who i am in Christ and that makes a world of difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-2992166242462937149?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/2992166242462937149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/05/change.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2992166242462937149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2992166242462937149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/05/change.html' title='change'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-2880937838546606782</id><published>2009-04-27T10:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T10:41:52.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>church always seems to get me thinking</title><content type='html'>so New Vision is doing a series called Cultural Christianity and last night touched on idolatry.  If I'm honest with myself, idolatry is something I never think about but that runs rampant is most of our lives, including my own.  A little while back we talked in our group on Sundays about marriage and how its really all about Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess when I combined these two thoughts, I came up with the fact that I tend to idolize my marriage.  Upon first realization of this, I was a little unsure about what to do about it.  I'm completely unperfect in my love for Josh.  I'm still selfish and I don't think God wants me to love him any less.  That doesn't solve the idolatry problem.  Instead of loving my marriage less, I need to love God more.  I guess what really got to me was this thought:  If something happened to Josh and he had left me this love letter and story of everything that made him who he was and what got him where he was and that showed me who I am and how I could make sure I would see him again, I would devour it.  It was be with me all the time.  I'd read it over and over again remembering him and still loving him for what was there.  I'd store it in my heart and it would comfort me in sadness and encourage me and be a source of joy.  If in this letter, he left me with a few last requests... to contine to love him and those around me and to tell others his story, I would never be silent.  I would honor those requests out of my love and respect for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its those things that made me realize the idolizing of my marriage.  Because I don't carry my Bible with me everywhere.  I don't overflow with the story of Jesus and his incredible love on a daily basis.  I don't pour over the Bible and realize its full power.  I don't ache with an undeniable passion to do those few things the love of my life, my Savior, asked of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think part of the solution is realizing the problem, which I do, and acknowledging that its a problem I do want to solve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought passed through my head the other day "It's so hard to be this person and to constantly remember Jesus in everything I do and to love God with everything I am.  Why is this so hard?"  And then it occured to me that it's not hard at all.  It should be incredibly easy.  He's the source of everything good in my life.  He's in every breath I take and every relationship I develop.  He's in EVERYTHING around me.  With reminders all over the place, it should be hard to forget.  But it isn't.  I think that just shows the extent of my selfishness.  If every single thing in my life is from God and I can still get lost in myself, how self-absorbed am I?  And I don't say this in consumable guilt.  It's just the realization of how broken I am and how all the more incredible it is that He loves me anyway.  My faults only make me need Him more and thus become far more appreciative of who He is and what He's done for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the single greatest change in my life over the last year is the amount I think about God and talk to Him.  It was asked in church yesterday if we could go a day without talking to God or thinking about Him.  There was a point in time when I could have easily answered yes to that question, but as I thought about it yesterday, I realized that although I feel my need for Him and my imperfections more now than ever, He's also more intertwined in my life now than ever.  And I'm happier now than ever.  If that makes any sense.  The thought of going a day without talking to God is actually painful.  I'm kind of in love with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll stop here as I need to shower and finish some stuff before class.  Just some thoughts though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-2880937838546606782?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/2880937838546606782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/04/church-always-seems-to-get-me-thinking.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2880937838546606782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2880937838546606782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/04/church-always-seems-to-get-me-thinking.html' title='church always seems to get me thinking'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-3508661602436828090</id><published>2009-04-08T21:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T21:20:28.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>oh sleepy puppy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This is how buddy sleeps.  I've been trying to get a picture for a while now, but he usually wakes up.  This time he didn't :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/Sd1bA3zvy7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/etI9PomIXqU/s1600-h/budsleep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/Sd1bA3zvy7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/etI9PomIXqU/s320/budsleep.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322510405160913842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/Sd1bA9jxErI/AAAAAAAAADw/IZ1eskwClYQ/s1600-h/budasleep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/Sd1bA9jxErI/AAAAAAAAADw/IZ1eskwClYQ/s320/budasleep.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322510406704501426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he stretched out even more as i started typing this and kicked my laptop shut hah    he keeps twitching, alternating between left hand and each foot...  he never twitches all at the same time.  just goes back and forth.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;he's now buried in blankets and dreaming about being allowed to eat everything in sight i'm sure&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-3508661602436828090?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/3508661602436828090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-silly-puppy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/3508661602436828090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/3508661602436828090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-silly-puppy.html' title='oh sleepy puppy'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/Sd1bA3zvy7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/etI9PomIXqU/s72-c/budsleep.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5201157680800836312</id><published>2009-03-25T12:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:31:41.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, Busy, Busy</title><content type='html'>It's that time in the semester when all the big projects and papers and presentations are pretty much consuming my life.  It's 12:35, my first class was canceled, and all I've done since 8:30 this morning is school work.  Not to mention, yesterday from 10:30 - 1:00 in the morning, I worked on school work.  Plus I stayed late at school meeting with professors about projects.  And on Monday - same thing.  Stayed at school late working on projects, and spent a couple hours Monday night working on Ad Management and Ad Club stuff.  meh.  On the upside, I realized an assignment I thought was due this Friday isn't actually due until April 12th.  On the downside, I have a 6 page paper due tomorrow, a feature article due Monday, and an extended case study presentation on Tuesday and a website and a press kit due... sometime soon (Wednesday, I think). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means I shouldn't be on here, but I had to take a break from PR Comm for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And back to work I go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5201157680800836312?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5201157680800836312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/03/busy-busy-busy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5201157680800836312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5201157680800836312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/03/busy-busy-busy.html' title='Busy, Busy, Busy'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5102211118880096337</id><published>2009-03-17T00:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T00:53:43.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Legacy</title><content type='html'>For some reason, it always seems to be after midnight when I find myself deep in thought about my life, where I've come from, what I've gone through, where I am, and what I want to be.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've heard a lot about leaving legacies throughout my church experiences.  The idea is to leave something behind when you go - a legacy for Christ.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know what I want my legacy to be.  When I die, I want people to remember me as someone who loved the unlovable.  I want to be the person that befriends the ostracized, writes letters to death row inmates, who is generous whether I have a little or a lot, and who believes in lost causes.  I want to be the person that notices the new girl in the back row or the guy stocking the shelves at the grocery store or the homeless guy that sits on the same corner down the street.  I don't want to just invest my life into my close family and friends.  I want my heart to beat for "the least of these."  I don't want to tell people about Christ with an evangecube or a pamphlet.  I don't want to go on mission trips for a week every couple of years.  I want every single day to be a living testimony to the grace of my God.  I want my life to scream "I should be unlovable.  But God loves me anyway.  And that makes me want to love you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to be held accountable to this.  These aren't just words spurted out to make myself feel spiritual or to portray some kind of ideal person to those with expectations.  I think deep down at the very core of who I am, the person described above is all I want to be.  More than a wife or mother or an advertising executive.  Because if I can get that right... If I can love the unlovable, how much better of a wife and future mother and coworker can I be?  If I can love those the world doesn't see as valuable, I should be able to exponentially love those who enrich my life beyond words every single day.  If I can be that person, I can radiate with a holy love everyday.  And that love is bound to spill over to my family.  If I lose everything and everyone I care about, I still want to be a person who is able to be used to bless those I come in contact with.  I want that kind of faith and courage.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I say this because I've been struggling with this lately.  I find my lack of patience getting better than me.  Or worse, I find myself afraid to take action.  I see a situation, feel a pull to do something about it, and then backtrack.  I begin making excuses.  I need to stop with all the "what if"s and "what would they think"s and "how would i do that"s.  I think sometimes as Christians, we ignore stirrings we have in a heart about something, but don't necessarily categorize it as sin because perhaps the situation isn't directly referenced in the Bible.  If it's not black and white, sometimes we assume the gray is unimportant.  But I believe God actively speaks to us all the time, and therefore if he's telling me to do something - even if it isn't spelled out step-by-step in the Bible - it's still sin if I don't do it.  It's disobedience.  It's ignoring God.  And it's not who I want to be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5102211118880096337?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5102211118880096337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/03/legacy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5102211118880096337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5102211118880096337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/03/legacy.html' title='Legacy'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-1184649818738207419</id><published>2009-03-01T11:33:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T11:46:05.426-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Buddy</title><content type='html'>So yesterday was eventful..  Birthday celebrations with my parents and Buddy's first snow experience at about 2 this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-112b0d30078418bd" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D112b0d30078418bd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330218281%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2BD50BBA3191FE544B93D5D9FABEB7A482AAD6B.EA272EFB3B09A1B5F5811B4C336E9F2C0C9CDB1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D112b0d30078418bd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DESlAsbIX6KP1LqRUt4BO5EM8fm4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D112b0d30078418bd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330218281%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2BD50BBA3191FE544B93D5D9FABEB7A482AAD6B.EA272EFB3B09A1B5F5811B4C336E9F2C0C9CDB1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D112b0d30078418bd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DESlAsbIX6KP1LqRUt4BO5EM8fm4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIrn8W5xI/AAAAAAAAACw/lKrWw6AH4aA/s1600-h/SL380205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIrn8W5xI/AAAAAAAAACw/lKrWw6AH4aA/s320/SL380205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308275762591622930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIr2OjvjI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ncPKVNUeJu4/s1600-h/SL380208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIr2OjvjI/AAAAAAAAAC4/ncPKVNUeJu4/s320/SL380208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308275766426058290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIsWv7JYI/AAAAAAAAADA/thDwxcU3x6g/s1600-h/SL380213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIsWv7JYI/AAAAAAAAADA/thDwxcU3x6g/s320/SL380213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308275775155938690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIs60giDI/AAAAAAAAADI/qN_6pumOpdw/s1600-h/SL380182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIs60giDI/AAAAAAAAADI/qN_6pumOpdw/s320/SL380182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308275784838842418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarItMMD1VI/AAAAAAAAADQ/X7tN-5MjjZ8/s1600-h/SL380183.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarItMMD1VI/AAAAAAAAADQ/X7tN-5MjjZ8/s320/SL380183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308275789501027666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarJmVjm2NI/AAAAAAAAADY/DwMziAoLIfA/s1600-h/SL380189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarJmVjm2NI/AAAAAAAAADY/DwMziAoLIfA/s320/SL380189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308276771268253906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarJm169CII/AAAAAAAAADg/T8VlS4Ijbuk/s1600-h/SL380194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarJm169CII/AAAAAAAAADg/T8VlS4Ijbuk/s320/SL380194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308276779956111490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarJnSh_VQI/AAAAAAAAADo/6mmqf0y1hm4/s1600-h/SL380198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarJnSh_VQI/AAAAAAAAADo/6mmqf0y1hm4/s320/SL380198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308276787636032770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-1184649818738207419?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=112b0d30078418bd&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/1184649818738207419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/03/snow-buddy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1184649818738207419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/1184649818738207419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/03/snow-buddy.html' title='Snow Buddy'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SarIrn8W5xI/AAAAAAAAACw/lKrWw6AH4aA/s72-c/SL380205.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-4764508453606586464</id><published>2009-02-28T00:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T13:49:38.483-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life after Midnight.</title><content type='html'>it's a little bit after midnight, and I'm having one of those days where physically, I just feel drained, but mentally, I'm wide awake. I got tons of sleep last night, and I haven't done anything even the least bit physically strenuous today, so I'm not quite getting it. If anything it should be reversed as I've been working on school stuff since 8 (granted, I fell asleep for 30 minutes.. twice.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've intended to write like 5 times in the last two weeks, but somehow it never happened. My computer has a virus now, which is pleasant... except that it's not. I downloaded a picture off flickr to use for a school assignment, and poof - virus-bonanza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a fun couple of weeks. Valentine's came and went. We dressed up and went to dinner the night before. Then just relaxed at home all day for our first married Valentine's day. Josh's birthday was last weekend. We went to lunch w/ his family + Garrett and Sarah. We're having dinner w/ my family to do more birthday stuff tomorrow. Bud-bud's coming along. That should be entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He graduated from obedience training. The little goober did a test run of training right in front of the instructor before doing the official test. He was a model student during the test run. But the minute the actual test started... stubborn as his daddy. He eventually gave in after bribery with many treats. We walked away with pictures of Buddy in a graduate hat, a diploma, some coupons, and a dog who can follow some basic commands.. when he feels like it. He's a big baby lately. Around 4:30 - 5:00, he goes and lays against the front door and just whines and whines until Josh comes home. If I'm working on homework, he'll come put his paws on the book and whine until I give him some attention. I'm especially annoyed today, because he whined constantly. And he drenched me during his bath. We used to struggled to get him to shake off the water in the shower. Now, he starts shaking as soon as the water hits him and continues periodically until its over. He always saves at least two good shakes for outside of the bathroom though. One right next to the bed. And one all over the hardwood. I have to chase behind him with a towel for a good 15 minutes after bathtime. He's also still afraid of the dark. Tonight, he sat on his butt and refused to move a bout 5 feet from the door to the backyard. I tried to coerce him into going out, but he just wasn't going to budge. So i got behind him and scooted him on his bottom right out the door. I swear that dog can glare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a lot of complaining, but I typed it all with a smile. Because as frustrating as he can be, he's a wonderful addition to our lives and I really enjoy having him around. I couldn't imagine ever not having a dog now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going through Hebrews in our Bible Study. I'm the one who proposed the book, because I love it, and yet somehow, I'm confused by it a lot lately. I guess I didn't view things quite in the same way as our small group. I'm learning a lot, but last night I walked away pretty baffled. I'm having one of those "I know God's here, but I just don't feel him as closely as I have before" times. It has nothing to do with a lack of faith or anything like that. It's neglect on my part, I think. Life's gotten busier and I haven't adjusted the way I should or want to. A couple weeks ago, we discussed prayer in our church group. It occured to me that somewhere around the beginning of the semester, I stopped letting prayer be a conversation and turned it into a monologue. My bible reading is more sporadic and I don't take as much time to just "be still and know He's God." The whole being still and letting God speak in the silence is something that really hits home with me and is one of the most valued parts of that relationship in my opinion. I realized that so many of my prayers included "I miss you" yet my actions were sending mixed signals. Therefore, I'm trying to make a concious effort to find moments of peace somewhere in my day just to focus on God and what He has to say. They're showing up in really random, wonderful places. I'm constantly reminded about how faithful God is. Brittany recently blogged about God being there in the details, and that's something I completely identify with. It never ceases to amaze me that the God of the universe is still willing to help me find a parking spot. I know that sounds trivial, but I truly believe He cares enough to provide even those small things. Actually, I know he does as there've been at least three occasions this semester where I should have been late due to some printing issues, but haven't been because of an amazing parking spot and a conversation with God on the way over. I'm trying to remember to thank Him for every little thing. I never realized how much happier I am when I'm taking any and every opportunity to just talk to God throughout my day. If I get busy and forget, I find myself worrying more and feeling more overwhelmed. Not once have I ever turned something over to God and He's not been faithful. He's provided what I needed, even if I didn't know I needed it, every single time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that was a bucket full of rambling. Didn't even intend to get into all that when I sat down to write. I've actually completely forgotten what I was going to say throughout the rest of this. Something about a scary job market and an attempt to build my portfolio. Which lead to a thought process of God being faithful with my career when I graduate and -gulp- move. So there's the thought process. Touche.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's something really wonderful about being able to honestly say that on this day, February 27, 2009, I have never been happier with my life. And that tomorrow, February 28, I will probably close my eyes thinking the same thing. I've come a long way from who I used to be. There's so much that's incredible about that. For example, despite the insane changes Josh and I have both experienced, we've managed to grow closer together. Growing up and getting married young and just all of it, so many times I keep hearing that we're not the same people that we'll be at 28 or 36 or whatever ideal age people think you should find the love of your life. But we're not the same people we were at 14 or 16 or 18 and yet the people we're becoming still love each other. That's God. Totally and completely. I've said it before and I'll probably say it a million more times before I die: I can't describe how amazing I find it that God never has to resort to plan B. He truly met both of us where we were and brought us back to the blessings he intended. It's completely undeserved. Grace at its finest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa, again with the rambling. Maybe I'm more tired than I realized?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus, I shall end this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-4764508453606586464?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/4764508453606586464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-after-midnight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4764508453606586464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4764508453606586464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-after-midnight.html' title='Life after Midnight.'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-4094344816542915702</id><published>2009-02-09T01:07:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:42:29.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>full of photos</title><content type='html'>I feel as though life is so redundant, there isn't always anything interesting to write about.  All my days are the same, give or take a couple details here and there.  Sometimes I love that.  Everything is uncomplicated when you know what to expect.  But at the same time, I'm looking forward to moving if for no other reason than to break out of this routine.  I feel too young to live the same day everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last week wasn't so interesting.  I am now VP of Publicity for MTSU's Ad Club, which makes me happy.  I haven't done much with it yet as I didn't get a chance to start until Thursday and our first meeting is Wednesday.  I started a Facebook group/event thing, ran a Facebook ad starting last Thursday and running through Tuesday, and tomorrow I'm putting up flyers and whatnot.  I eventually want to get it on the Mass Comm board, in Sidelines (if the guy will ever email me back), and I've started working on a website (the old one hasn't been updated since 2005...), but I'm not sure how to put it on the MTSU server yet. It makes me sad that we're the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Advertising&lt;/span&gt; club and yet I keep hearing "What's the Ad Club?" and "I didn't even know we had that" from several people.  If we can't promote our own club, what good are we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend has been pretty basic.  I can't really remember Friday.  I took Buddy to dog training.  He does really well there.  He graduates this Friday, so prepare for pictures of him in his little doggie graduate hat (that the trainer and I agreed he will try to eat.)  Here's a picture of him because I think he's cute :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_b0uR2KYI/AAAAAAAAACg/KmD-TiNXlcw/s1600-h/buddy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_b0uR2KYI/AAAAAAAAACg/KmD-TiNXlcw/s320/buddy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300696985260927362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning, we went back to Sumner County to watch my sister play basketball, do taxes, and shoot guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Alyssa shooting the ball.  I need to photoshop it, but that's not available on this computer hah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_ZR1xp97I/AAAAAAAAAB4/RZ10EShIXyQ/s1600-h/alyssa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_ZR1xp97I/AAAAAAAAAB4/RZ10EShIXyQ/s320/alyssa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300694186954717106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is us watching the game:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_aAD2SrlI/AAAAAAAAACI/C1G3bh68ErA/s1600-h/SL380108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_aAD2SrlI/AAAAAAAAACI/C1G3bh68ErA/s320/SL380108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300694981006241362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chickened out at the gun shooting part of the day.  Thus, there are no pictures.  Although the sky was pretty on the way home :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_ZnvGi_9I/AAAAAAAAACA/-ZKv4kDQPr4/s1600-h/SL380110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_ZnvGi_9I/AAAAAAAAACA/-ZKv4kDQPr4/s320/SL380110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300694563120414674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I slept in today (Sunday).  I actually woke up at 10:20 and had to wake him up, which is unusual.  The great part of that was:  he had somewhere to be at 11.  Disc golf w/ some guys from church.  I took my time and enjoyed the day.  Buddy and I played outside 3 different times inbetween straightening up the house.  Josh and I just relaxed this afternoon and watched some TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we had to act at church again for the little kids.  I was dreading it.  Like knot in my stomach dreading it, and that's just not something that happens to me.  I feed off audience energy.  But the part I was playing pronounced all her r's and l's as w's and was apparently supposed to have a NY accent, so I kept continuously stumbling all over them as I was practicing throughout the week.  By the time we got to church, I wanted to turn right around and go home. I was a reporter.  Josh was the Good Samaritan.  Which was enjoyable :)  He had to wear a Bible-style costume (read: dress) as you will see below.   All his lines were basically saying the same thing in different ways, which is hard to memorize in order.  I would have felt bad for him if I didn't have a part with an awkard lisp hah.  Anyways, we seemed to do fine.  Stumbled a little, but no one noticed, and the kids laughed which is a vast improvement over the booing that they did last time.  We came home and made double stack tacos for dinner, which was suprisingly good considering they came from one of those taco bell taco kits (what happens when I send Josh to the store for milk.)  We watched some more tv and just enjoyed each other's company.  It was overall a pretty perfect weekend.  We laughed a lot :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the business suit, Brittany!  It came in very handy tonight hah..  That's Josh and his nice little Samaritan outfit.   You can't see it in this picture, but he has on a fur vest thing.  You can see it a little on the last picture.  Jenny had to put a rope on his head thing so he didn't look like a Muslim woman heh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_aAcMNRTI/AAAAAAAAACY/Xkk29S1vTKs/s1600-h/babawawa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_aAcMNRTI/AAAAAAAAACY/Xkk29S1vTKs/s320/babawawa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300694987540612402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_eDISgA8I/AAAAAAAAACo/MdFzCLInUD0/s1600-h/SL380114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_eDISgA8I/AAAAAAAAACo/MdFzCLInUD0/s320/SL380114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300699431784416194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-4094344816542915702?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/4094344816542915702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/02/full-of-photos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4094344816542915702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4094344816542915702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/02/full-of-photos.html' title='full of photos'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SY_b0uR2KYI/AAAAAAAAACg/KmD-TiNXlcw/s72-c/buddy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-2987117475003525535</id><published>2009-01-30T00:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T00:26:47.763-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventures of January 29th, 2009</title><content type='html'>I don't have anything specific to write about.  Therefore, I'll just run through my day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy was great this morning until 9:10.  At 9:10, the doggy-crazy-alert sounded in its super high-pitched-only-dogs-can-hear way.  I let Buddy out to use the bathroom at 9:10 with the knowledge that I needed to leave the house at 9:20 in order to make it to my 9:40 class.  At 9:17 or so, I go to let Buddy back inside and subsequently, put him in his crate.  Now, considering I generally have to lose my feet inside Josh's fuzzy crocs, burrow inside a jacket in my pjs, and venture all the way into the yard to get Buddy to even go outside in the mornings, one would think he would voluntarily rush back in to greet me upon opening the door.  No, no.  Not this morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sensing my impending need to leave, Buddy decided it was a nice morning for a game of tag.  I tried treats, toys, the leash, ignoring him, ignoring him with the door shut, ignoring him with the door open, ignoring him in the yard, chasing after him, yelling, pleading, excitedly coaxing, etc.  He was having none of it.  Finally out of desperation I went inside, left the door open, and picked up the phone to call Josh for ideas on how to get the darn dog to place more than just his two front paws inside the house without running way as soon as I even looked at him.  I walked from the phone over the refrigerator and noticed Buddy lingering in the doorway waiting for me to dodge at him so he could take joy in his escape.  I pretended to yawn while turning my back to him and intentionally knocking a closed bag of treats off the top of the refrigerator.  VICTORY!  Buddy lunged for the treats.  I sprinted towards the door, slammed it shut, and then chased after Buddy who was by that time in the living room under an ironing board.  I was fuming.  It was 9:38.  I reached for his collar to drag him to his crate, but at the last second he dodge to a tiny hole between the leg of the ironing board and the recliner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then the ironing board fell over, hitting my leg, and freeing the dog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I yelled.  Buddy cowered.  I grabbed his collar with one hand, a treat with the other, and slid his little belly across the floor until we reached the crate.  It sounds like animal abuse.  But believe me, it was the equivalent of the mom at the grocery store with that mix of anger and exhaustion holding on to the hand of her screaming child and dragging him along with her while muttering threats.  "BAD," I yelled.  He slid to the back of his crate and didn't even bark when I left the room.  He knew what he had done.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I trudged across campus in the wind and entered my Media Planning class fifteen minutes late.  I looked at my professor warily.  He didn't even ask.  He did proceed to explain 7th grade equivalent math problems about 3o times each.  Seven questions took an hour and a half.   And these are questions like:  Here is the formula for GRPS.  Gross Impressions/Universe x 100.  If the gross impressions equal 10 million, and the Universe equals 100 million... What are the GRPS?   Not only did he ask every student to explain that equation (13 students), that question alone took 20 minutes.  Welcome to a college class full of seniors.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next was work.  Never hard, only boring.  Today, I searched through files for duplicates, while paper cutting my hand multiple times.  I also filled the shelf with copier paper.  Then I made 4 labels and got the mail. Challenging.  I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Advertising Management... the class I love with the professor who doesn't love me.  Although, I do think that is changing.  I ranted to Josh about all the ways in which my prof treated me like his other students today.  "He asked me how i was!  He used my name for an example!  He actually called on me to answer a question and said my answer was a good one!"  I was excited.  Some students might expect these simple things, but this is unexplored territory for me and ole' Applegate.  The conversation I had with Josh after my first day in the class went more like this:  "He asked everyone to introduce themselves except me.  He skipped over my name in the roll.  I asked him after class if I was indeed showing up as registered.  He confirmed I was.  He asked everyone's opinion on a case study except mine.  He avoided all eye contact.  He ignored anything I said.  He.  Hates.  Me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then back to work.  Where I... kid you not... sorted out two coffee cups of rubber bands into stacks of "Thick rubber bands" and "Thin rubber bands."   Exhilarating.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Home to the chastised puppy who redeemed himself by being cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Josh and I went to Bible Study tonight, which we love.  A new couple came tonight, bringing the total to 6 couples, which is a great size for a small group.  Our actually Connection class on Sundays has grown to 40+ people.  We're going to the class Super Bowl party on Sunday.  I'm tivoing the game at home in case I miss any good commercials &gt;_&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that's about it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, except for the whole Josh accepting the offer to officially go into sales at Lochinvar.  Hooray!!!  I'm so proud of him :)  It means we'll eventually be moving, but the guy who will be his supervisor until we do alluded to the idea that he might keep him in the southeast if at all possible.  That would be nice.  I think as long as we're in the South, it will feel like home.  If it's not, we'll still make it home; it just won't come as naturally I think.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-2987117475003525535?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/2987117475003525535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/adventures-of-january-29th-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2987117475003525535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/2987117475003525535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/adventures-of-january-29th-2009.html' title='The Adventures of January 29th, 2009'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-4100374485327255660</id><published>2009-01-26T23:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T23:17:17.950-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing quite like 50 kids booing you at church...</title><content type='html'>So Josh and I volunteered (got recruited actually ha) to act in little skits for the K-5th grade once a month on Sunday nights.  Last night was our first time.  Josh was a silent drummer.  I was supposed to be a comedian, but the jokes were all horrible.  To the point that the 50 + kids were actually booing me.  It's funny in hindsight, but it caught me so off guard onstage that I stumbled over a couple of my lines.  First time for everything hah.. We go again on February 8th.  My part is supposed to speak with this obnoxious lisp that I'm really struggling to do.  Josh is going to be the Good Samaritan.  Then on March 8th I'm playing a gardener named Holly Honeysuckle or something like that.  The other actors are really nice, and dramatic in age range.  There are a couple men, one just moved here with his wife and 4 daughters from Dallas to start a church in Smyrna, but it doesn't open until September.  The other does professional voiceovers for tv shows and commercials and whatnot.  He's also a salesman for a bank, which sounds like a pretty good gig from what he described.  There's a Master's student from MTSU focusing on English.  A freshman from MTSU who is about to change his major from EMC to Religious Studies, even though he isn't even sure that's offered as a major at MTSU.  A couple of high schoolers.  One was a freshman.  One seemed like an upperclassman, but he never said his grade.  The guy from Dallas brought his 11 year old and 8 year old daughters.  They were cute.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy's really cuddly today.  He's been pretty much permanently glued to my lap.  When I got home from the grocery today, I let him out with me while I was bringing the groceries in.  When I opened the door to my car to open my trunk, Buddy squeezed his way in thinking we were going to go for a ride.  He loves rides.  It took me a full 30 minutes to get him back out of the car.  I'd convince him to come out and before I could shut the door, he'd jump right back in.  He would twist himself in pretzel positions to make sure at least one paw was inside the car at all times.  I even came inside, turned off the garage light and shut the door to the house while leaving the car door open, but five minutes later when I opened the door, he had is paws perched on the front dash waiting for me to come get in.  Silly pup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My classes are going really well thus far.  I really like 3 of the 4 professors I have in class.  My online classes are informative and interesting, but not challenging, which is kind of nice when you're taking 18 hours.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Josh and I watched Max Payne tonight.  I fell asleep for the last 10 minutes.  I couldn't really get into it.  Sometimes these shoot'em up movies look all the same to me.  Not to mention it was bizarre to see the spoiled girl from That 70's Show holding a gun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should really be sleeping as I have class in the morning.  I'm at the point where I have classes with a lot of the same people as we're all trying to graduate within 2009.  I've met someone to at least talk to while waiting on class to start in every class, and I've inquired about becoming one of the lesser-involved officers for the Ad Club.  I know one of the co-presidents, so I'm thinking I'll actually join officially this year to add something to my resume.  I'd like to do an officer position this year so that I can apply for a officer that has a little more responsibility next year.  But we'll see.  I'm not counting on it as the faculty advisor currently doesn't like me.  I'm desperately trying to change his opinion in my Management class as that is a little more my forte than copywriting.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was longer than I expected.  Hmm..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-4100374485327255660?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/4100374485327255660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/nothing-quite-like-50-kids-booing-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4100374485327255660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/4100374485327255660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/nothing-quite-like-50-kids-booing-you.html' title='Nothing quite like 50 kids booing you at church...'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-5590687703827726825</id><published>2009-01-19T15:44:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T15:53:34.257-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh puppy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6ec44f7ba9a3ff98" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6ec44f7ba9a3ff98%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330218281%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D46E556BB2CCEC89E480BFDE1172DBAA202639DA4.7CBA8BC9F21A2D9BF63F2125FD8A332ED09A6827%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6ec44f7ba9a3ff98%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DGPcdjTzAKZx139euW56mV6m-ONs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6ec44f7ba9a3ff98%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330218281%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D46E556BB2CCEC89E480BFDE1172DBAA202639DA4.7CBA8BC9F21A2D9BF63F2125FD8A332ED09A6827%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6ec44f7ba9a3ff98%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DGPcdjTzAKZx139euW56mV6m-ONs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clearly, i got my camera back :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other things on the "Buddy is scared of" list include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hair barrettes&lt;br /&gt;hair dryers&lt;br /&gt;vacuume cleaners&lt;br /&gt;cell phones&lt;br /&gt;my hand if he thinks its bathtime (he's still wet in the above video)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;expect more buddy pictures and videos now that I have my camera :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is from my cellphone, so it's crappy quality.  but i think he's really cute when he's sleeping :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SXT1j4kpudI/AAAAAAAAABA/4wdqKPyQBe8/s1600-h/sleepy+buddy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SXT1j4kpudI/AAAAAAAAABA/4wdqKPyQBe8/s320/sleepy+buddy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293125458897517010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Buddy after a bath and learning about the camera for the first time.  Notice the pile of stuff in the floor that resulted when he bumped my desk while running in fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SXT141Y5YoI/AAAAAAAAABI/FnAT9GN2nb8/s1600-h/SL380017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SXT141Y5YoI/AAAAAAAAABI/FnAT9GN2nb8/s320/SL380017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293125818820158082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-5590687703827726825?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6ec44f7ba9a3ff98&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/5590687703827726825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-puppy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5590687703827726825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/5590687703827726825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-puppy.html' title='Oh puppy...'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ONQQ3yBIMww/SXT1j4kpudI/AAAAAAAAABA/4wdqKPyQBe8/s72-c/sleepy+buddy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-6734979947837075841</id><published>2009-01-16T21:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T21:42:59.996-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome back, good health!</title><content type='html'>So today is an incredible turnaround from yesterday.  When I went for my followup appointment today, the doctors were amazed at how quickly the antibiotics are treating it (I'm not as suprised.  I've been more on more medications in the last 24 hours than at any other time in my life.  I've got the nausea to prove it. :P)   Anyways, I woke up this morning to find my eye only halfway swollen shut.  I could still see out of a little sliver.  About an hour and a half later, by the time of my appointment, the swelling had gone down even more.  Tonight, my eye looks almost normal.  It's still really tender, but the redness and swelling is vastly improved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They may think it's the antibiotics, but I know my fast recovery is a God-thing.  The number of people who at least said one quick prayer for me yesterday tops at least 50.  God is good and faithful and the great healer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to watch American Gangster until I can take medicine again hah.. I can't take them at the same time because they're too harsh on my body.  Therefore, I space them an hour apart.  I'll start at 10 and take the last one by 12.  Too bad I got almost no sleep last night.  The shot they gave me had side affects of inability to sleep, feeling hot, and dehydration.  All of which I began experiencing at around 11 last night all way until 7 this morning.  I would doze a little bit, but I always knew I wasn't fully asleep.  The one point I think I actually started to fall asleep, I like jerked up.  I don't even know why.  Josh was really annoyed hah.. I kicked off the covers and flung all over the place trying to get comfortable.  He didn't know about the shot side effects though.  He just thought I was being a crazy sleeper.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy had obedience training today.  He's not so good at the "Stay" command.  We played hide and seek in the store though, which was cute.  He's been very affectionate today :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-6734979947837075841?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/6734979947837075841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/welcome-back-good-health.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/6734979947837075841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/6734979947837075841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/welcome-back-good-health.html' title='Welcome back, good health!'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-3852083438063004044</id><published>2009-01-15T16:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T16:50:59.510-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My body is staging a revolution apparently.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;I woke up this morning and my eye was swollen shut. I had had a tender area for 3 days that kept growing, but I thought it was a cyst. But it wasn't. So I call a dermatologist, but they can't fit me in for 2 weeks. And I'm not convinced my face has that long as the swollen area was reaching from the top of my forehead to the bottom of my eye. So I went to health services. The doctors are all intrigued. Staph!, they say. I've had staph before, I say. Almost positively staph then! they say. The nurse practicioner was talking about a mile a minute. It's serious, she tells me. It's serious, the doctors agree. It could spread into my sinus cavity and form abcesses and cause confusion, dizzyness, and all around would-be-kind-of-funny-if-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="text"&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;it-wasn't-so-serious behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they decide on a treatment and 3 doctors and 2 nurses and a nursing student leave our cramped little room to go out in the hallway and discuss the impending mountain on my face. Baxi 4 pills a day, Doxi 2 pills a day, a shot for the swelling, a flourescent strip thingy, a blacklight, a few pictures, and 3 scheduled future visits later, a fourth doctor walks up to see whose causing all the commotion. Then the I hear the nurse say, "Wanna see something cool?" I hear hushed whispers. I hear the nurse say "She sure is a trooper. She drove all the way here with one eye swollen shut!" (That was a very unpleasant experience hah). They walk in and the commotion starts all over again. Staph, shingles, etc!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's had staph before!"&lt;br /&gt;"It must be staph!"&lt;br /&gt;"Did you get a culture"&lt;br /&gt;"Tried, but not enough fluid"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back and forth, back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard the doctor in the room next to mine instructing his patient on getting rid of his STD. "That's quite a rash." etc. I hear coughing down the hall. The nurse comes over to me and says "I'm not scheduled to work in here tomorrow. I'll be in the women's clinic. When you come in for your appointment, you tell them to come get me. They'll look at you like you're crazy, but tell them to do it anyway." She says this very fast with a glow in her eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's then I realize I have made her day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Mom, who is entirely freaked out (and actually has reason to be it seems).  She's coming to get me to take me to the doctor that treated me last time to find out if I need to go ahead and be on an IV.  Excellent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-3852083438063004044?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/3852083438063004044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-body-is-staging-revolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/3852083438063004044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/3852083438063004044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-body-is-staging-revolution.html' title='My body is staging a revolution apparently.'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-978930543339699039</id><published>2009-01-07T09:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T10:13:39.654-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Married Holiday Season</title><content type='html'>WHOA... holidays are busy.  I never realized just how busy they are until this year.  Now I know what all the fuss is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's see.. Christmas Eve I loaded up the dog and presents and headed home to Gallatin.  I dropped Buddy off at Josh's parents, then headed to mine.  Dad was at work, but mom and Alyssa were just relaxing.  My throat was bugging me so it was nice to have some time to just rest before Christmas Eve service.  Josh got off work around 1ish and stayed at his parents until church.  It wasn't so crowded this year.  I'm used to it being absolutely packed out.  I also think 3 o'clock is awful early for a candlelight service.  It's still light outside when you get out!  Anyways, after that, we headed back to my parents for a little bit, and then to Josh’s for Christmas dinner/presents.  Josh got a GPS.  He really likes it.  I get annoyed at it’s constant interrupting of conversations, but it wouldn’t do that if Josh didn’t feel the need to put every single place we ever go into it.  Even if we’ve driven there 20 million times.  It’s already been helpful for a few other situations though.  My Eiffel necklace that I lost was replaced, which makes me happy as it was my favorite.  There were other gifts, but those were our favorites from that exchange.  Buddy got lots of treats which he likes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas morning, we woke up at Josh’s parents and then drove to mine for breakfast.  Chocolate gravy and biscuits.. Yum J  Dad got us lots of goofy gifts that were actually fun, such as a toy gun that shoots these little discs at you.  And a toy hand grenade.  And some playdoughish goop.  Josh got lots of gift cards and I got clothes which were very needed.  Again – more presents, but those are the ones that stick out.  Buddy got a couple of toys – plush – that he ripped the ears off of within a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home around 4ish on Christmas day and did presents with each other.  Josh got me WiiFit which is exciting, so we played that for a while.  I got him Left4Dead and a book, that he didn’t actually play until the next day I think, but still it was a nerdy/fun Christmas for us.  I still wasn’t feeling awesome, so went to sleep kind of early.  We realized we had forgotten to do stockings so we did those day after Christmas.  Had lunch with Missy on Friday and hung out at Starbuck’s talking for like 3 hours.  It was nice to catch up.  Saturday – we tried to put up the Christmas gifts.  The house was an absolutely wreck.  Josh forgot to put the trash by the curb before Christmas, and it was full.  So we were just kind of stuck with all the Christmas trash until the next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was Christmas w/ my dad and stepmom’s family.  We went to Cracker Barrel for dinner and back to Lori’s parents for presents/waaay too much socializing for a Sunday night.  I got books and a Barnes and Noble gift card, and Josh got gift cards as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Year’s was pretty boring.  Josh played his video games.  I read Twilight (which I have now finished the entire series as of yesterday.  Took 8 days which is impressive since I’m working too).  We watched the ball drop.   Stayed up late talking which is one of my new favorite things to do.  Not sure he’s so crazy about it though haha.  He’s such an old man when it comes to bed time :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garrett and Sarah came over on Saturday, which was great.  We played Rock Band and Forkel and ate Mexican and Pizza.  Not at the same time, naturally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started Sunday night church this week, which was weird.  It feels unnatural to wake up on Sunday morning and not go anywhere.  But it’s nice I think.  Means quick dinners hah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy has been a little bit of a handful the past couple of days.  He’s begun barking if he’s mad that I won’t play with him the way he wants to play.  He doesn’t do this to Josh.  Just me.  Then on Sunday, I gave him a bath.  We let him out for about 10 minutes before we needed to get ready for church.  He dug a whole under these boards that Josh and his Dad put up to keep him out from under the deck.  He then crawled under the deck and rolled around in the dirt.  When I went to let him in, he ran all over the house with his muddy little body.  We had 20 minutes to bathe him, clean up the dirt, and get ready for church.  We made it on time somehow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, he got in the dirt again.  His crate permanently smells of wet dog between the rain and his baths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pretty much covers the holiday season, I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I graduate this year ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-978930543339699039?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/978930543339699039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-married-holiday-season.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/978930543339699039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/978930543339699039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-married-holiday-season.html' title='The First Married Holiday Season'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-241123233390558037</id><published>2008-12-24T07:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T08:07:54.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll be healthy for Christmas.. if only in my dreams.</title><content type='html'>Apparently, holidays are not my friend this year.  After one of those can't-seem-to-breathe colds over Thanksgiving, I am now overtaken with a sore-throat-can't-talk cold for Christmas.  Which Buddy seems to take full advantage of as it takes all my energy to say "NO" in a voice louder than a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's a little escape artist.  We took him to the dog park on Saturday where he was a little bit like a 10 year old stealing a 5 year old's lunch money.  Only he's scared of retaliation, so I guess he's more like the bully's friend, egging him on.  Several of the other dogs enjoyed chasing frisbees.  Buddy would then chase the dog that caught the frisbee and attempt to steal it out of his mouth.  This game caught on and by the time we left the park, 5 out of 5 frisbees were split in half.  At first Buddy only went after the dogs that were his size or small.  By the end, he was going after dogs two and three times his size (seriously, three times.  A ginormous gray mastiff I believe).  He also liked starting fights, so long as the dog was smaller and he was winning.  He'd go bark in their faces until they finally started rolling on the ground with him.  But if a second dog got involved, Buddy let them roll around and just barked up a storm to keep them going.  Again, the bully's best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left after about an hour and a half of this.  I dropped Josh off to get his car and brought Buddy home.  We pulled in the garage, and I left the garage door open so I could get the mail after I put Buddy inside.  For some reason unknown to me, the garage door was locked, so I had to hold on to Buddy while I got out my keys to unlock it.  I hear this scuffling sound, turn around, and see Buddy just as he initiates the final wiggle to get out of his leash.  And in about .5 seconds, he is gone.  I dropped my purse and keys and ran after him.  He had only gotten as far as the neighbors when I scooped him up and brought him back to the garage.  He's a little bulky (chunky, if you ask Josh) and I was struggling to hold on to him.  I reached up with one arm to close the garage door so I could put him down and unlock the door into the house, and wouldn't you know - he yelped in my face, jumped out of my arms, and slid under the garage door right as it was about to close.  I hurriedly opened the door to the house, turned off the alarm, and ran outside to find him.  I estimate this took 45 seconds.  I looked left and right, but he was nowhere to be found.  So I started calling his name.  And out from the neighbor's backyard he trots, like this is an everday occurence.  I started towards him, and he took off.  Up and down neighbor's doorsteps.  I cornered him right as Josh got home.  Josh walked up as I was telling Buddy never to do that again.  Josh said I was overreacting.  I glared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, we put Buddy in the crate before church, only to come home to find him chewing up various items in our bedroom and bathroom.  My previously gnawed scarf and gloves are now mere threads of their former selves.  Josh yells.  I smile.  Karma's fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work started on Monday.  Buddy was in his crate for ~10 hours by his lonesome.  No messes in the crate, and no more escapes.  When we got home, he bolted out and slid all over the hardwood for about 10 minutes.  And even after 10 hours of holding his bladder, he still wouldn't go out without one of us going with him.  Silly dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been laying here next to me while I wrote this, but he is now bored and nudging me with his toy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-241123233390558037?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/241123233390558037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/ill-be-healthy-for-christmas-if-only-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/241123233390558037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/241123233390558037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/ill-be-healthy-for-christmas-if-only-in.html' title='I&apos;ll be healthy for Christmas.. if only in my dreams.'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-8766062863978231002</id><published>2008-12-18T22:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T17:32:15.165-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Buddy, get off the table!"</title><content type='html'>Day 5 of Life with Dog.  It's an interesting, although frustrating, experience thus far.  Buddy has recently discovered the outside table.  He refuses to come in the bathroom with me when I'm showering because he thinks he's going to get a bath, and I can't trust him alone in the house (more on this later), so yesterday I decided to put him outside for 20 minutes while I showered.  After getting ready, I opened the door so I could go play fetch with Buddy only to find him standing on the table with two plants that had formerly been on the table on the deck and in the backyard.  A giant pot was turned over, and Buddy was ferociously licking anything he could get his tongue on.  I scolded him for getting on the table, but today after putting him outside so I could do laundry in peace, I walked out to the same mini-disaster zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy continuously chews up his toys.  Josh bought him a new bone online that came yesterday, and it already looks like it's been around for about a year of chewing.  I took Buddy to PetSmart with me today to give him some time out of the house (We've skipped walks the last 2 days because he keeps getting ticks and his prevention didn't come until today.. and he already is being treated for a disease caused by ticks.).  He's a little like a hound in that once he smells something, he must follow it and he tunes out all other distractions.. including me.  So we're walking through the rainy parking lot with me struggling to keep ahold of him while putting my keys in my purse.  I decided to stop for a second in the entrance of PetSmart in order to put up my keys and get a good grip on Buddy.  Instead, he wraps me up in the leash and takes off, causing me to completely tip over in front of the cashier and line of customers.  Needless to say, I was unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also destroyed a scarf, a glove, and a hairclip today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than these minor-if-it's-not-you mishaps, he's been great.  He's completely housebroken.  He's getting a little more used to his crate.  He doesn't quite bodyslam it anymore anyway.  He loves to get his belly rubbed, and he always wants to know what I'm doing.  If he gets scared, he runs and hides behind me or jumps in my lap.  He's a little hyper, but he loves to play fetch so it's not so hard to burn off his energy.  He's very loving.  He just loves everybody.  Keri and Kristyn were over here a couple days ago and he was constantly wanting to curl up with Keri or lick Kristyn.  He was the same way with my family and the neighbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what maybe I'm struggling to get used to about him is:  it's not just me and Josh anymore.  There is absolutely no such thing as "alone time".  I just didn't think that would happen so soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:  I'm going back to Lochinvar part-time.  I'm actually really excited because I'm bored out of my mind at the house all day.  Not to mention, the extra money would offset the cost of the dog thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting on sausage balls to finish so Josh can take them to work for a Holiday thing tomorrow.  Which means I'm going to be nice a tired when I get up with Buddy in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-8766062863978231002?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/8766062863978231002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/buddy-get-off-table.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8766062863978231002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8766062863978231002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/buddy-get-off-table.html' title='&quot;Buddy, get off the table!&quot;'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-8857357912038027032</id><published>2008-12-16T17:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T17:24:07.635-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I am an avid reader..</title><content type='html'>So I recently read The Shack which is a book that shows God in a very real way, but that draws a lot of criticism from some of the Christian world, specifically Southern Baptists.  And there is something about this that really really bothers me because of a quote I read on the controversy of the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;USA Today described the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;"So why are critics calling it heresy? &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;They say Young's surprise hit, which has been in the Top 50 on USA TODAY's Best-Selling Books list for 10 weeks (it's now No. 17), promotes a wrong-headed view of universal salvation, as free to all as an open bar at a party. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;They read Young's message as saying you can just discover Jesus' love inside yourself, turn your life over to him, and you're on your way to heaven. No need to put in time in the pews or know theology. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;Albert Mohler, a leading theologian of the Southern Baptist Convention, which takes the Bible literally, trashes &lt;i&gt;The Shack&lt;/i&gt; in his weekly radio show, calling it "deeply subversive," "scripturally incorrect" and downright "dangerous." &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;Says Mark Driscoll of Mars Hill Church in Seattle: "If you haven't read &lt;i&gt;The Shack&lt;/i&gt;, don't!" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;Driscoll, whose multi-campus non-denominational church is packed with 6,000 people each weekend in the least-churched corner of the nation, says he is "horrified" by Young's book. He says "it misrepresents God. Young misses the big E on the eye chart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;This pains me to the point of tears.  Because after reading the book myself and after reading that atrocious accusation that begins the quote I just referenced, I find that these so-called leaders of churches and denominations are the ones who are truly "missing the big E on the eye chart." &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;This is the part that truly outrages me:  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;"They say Young's surprise hit, which has been in the Top 50 on USA TODAY's Best-Selling Books list for 10 weeks (it's now No. 17), promotes a wrong-headed view of universal salvation, as free to all as an open bar at a party.  They read Young's message as saying you can just discover Jesus' love inside yourself, turn your life over to him, and you're on your way to heaven. No need to put in time in the pews or know theology" &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="inside-copy"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Um... EXACTLY!  Is the freedom of Christ's love and redemption to every single person regardless of who they are or what they've done not one of the very fundamentals of Christianity that distinguishes from other world religions and truly exemplifies the very nature of God?  It is as free as an open bar at a party!  It's for anyone and everyone!  How could anyone, especially those in a power of authority and well educated in theology, disagree with that?  Did they skip over some of the most well-known and widely-recited verses of the Bible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For it is by GRACE you have been saved, through FAITH—and this NOT FROM YOURSELVES, it is the GIFT OF GOD— &lt;span id="en-NIV-29223" class="sup"&gt;9&lt;/span&gt;not by works, so that no one can boast.  &lt;span id="en-NIV-29224" class="sup"&gt;- Ephesians 2:8-9 (emphasis added).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it get any plainer than that?  All you have to do is truly discover Jesus's love, turn your life over to him, and you're on your way to heaven.  There is NO NEED to put in time at the pews or to know theology. NONE!  It doesn't say "For it is by Bible-reading and Church-going that you've been saved.  It's a requirement from God, not a gift, so that you may judge each other."   Where in the world do these religious jerks get off twisting the incredible gift of God?  There is NOTHING we could ever do to earn that gift!  Nothing!  I'm angered to the point of tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or what about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christ is the END OF THE LAW so that there may be righteousness for EVERYONE WHO BELIEVES."  - Romans 10:4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. &lt;span id="en-NIV-28184" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. &lt;span id="en-NIV-28185" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;As the Scripture says, "Anyone who trusts in him will never be put to shame." &lt;span id="en-NIV-28186" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile—the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, &lt;span id="en-NIV-28187" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;for, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." - Romans 10:9-13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could not be any clearer!  No actions required!  Actions are a byproduct of a Love for God.  You don't gain salvation by doing good works.  You do good works because you realize how much God loves people to have sent His son to die for each and every person, and that love for people manifests itself in you through the Holy Spirit.  It's all about your relationship with the Creator of the Universe!  It's so much bigger that going to church and learning theology!  To reduce it to that is a flat out insult to the sacrifice made by Jesus.  It makes me sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what?  The Shack spoke to me far more than any other religious book, not including the Word of God itself.  Churches get so caught up in the legalities and the rules to the point that they forget that Christ came so that we wouldn't be bound by the rules!  It says right there in Romans - Christ is the End of the Law!   Not just the Law of the Old Testamant, but the End of the Law being the way you reach God!  You don't go to church to be saved.  You go to church to fellowship with other believers.  You go to build relationships and rejoice with those who have found the same Abundance of Life that you have, and who you can invest your life into and who can invest their lives in you.  You form a community of faith and love.  The things you do in that church should be out of pure love and relationship, NOT because you think you have to in order to get to heaven.  Forced love isn't love!  That's the whole reason we're given free will!  God isn't interested in making us do anything, but hopes that we will choose to accept his precious gift.  He can use any wrong choice we make to His ultimate glory and purpose, but he doesn't interfere with our right to make a choice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm rambling like crazy, and I know I have no reason to be an authority source on this subject, but I can say this:  I know the God I serve.  I know Him as a Father, as a Friend, as a Comfort, and as a Guide.  I know that he is a God of love and relationships.  I know he's a God of forgivess and grace.  And I know that He will accept any one who seeks Him with open arms.  Regardless of what they've done and regardless of what they will or won't do.  Faith is enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to spend some time on Yahoo Answers in the Religion sections.  Sometimes I answer.  Sometimes I don't.  But a recurring theme seems to show up.  If an all powerful God can do anything, then why does he have to send people to hell?  And here's my thought process on this:  God is perfection and everything that goes along with that.  Which means that God is Just as a characteristic of his Perfection.  We are imperfect.  That's the point of all the rules.  It's first off, for our own protection, and secondly it's to show us that we are incapable of being perfect.  So God, being Perfect and Just, has to receive some sort of payment for our sin imperfections.  If he doesn't, then he is not completely Just, and if he is not completely Just, he is not Perfect, and if he's not Perfect, why should we trust Him to lead our lives?  So in order to retain his Perfection for our sakes, the sin debt must be paid.  And so he met us where we are, in the middle of our imperfection, in fully human form, as Jesus.  He saw our mess, came right into the middle of it, and then cleaned it up.  He took Christ who had no sin at all and allowed his sacrifice to be the payment for every sin that has ever happened and that will ever happen.  All we have to do is accept it.  Confess who he is.  Believe that He is who He says He is.  If we believe in who He is, then we naturally trust that He knows what He's doing and we do not, and therefore, trust him with our lives.  I don't understand why some people try to make it anymore complicated than that.  It really is that simple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been quite the rant, but I feel better anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-8857357912038027032?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/8857357912038027032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/because-i-am-avid-reader.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8857357912038027032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8857357912038027032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/because-i-am-avid-reader.html' title='Because I am an avid reader..'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-498758942242829314.post-8739329898466199305</id><published>2008-12-15T07:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T07:50:24.723-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Buddy, quit licking my toes."</title><content type='html'>We got a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's currently stuck in the office with me because he can't be trusted alone in the rest of the house.  He propped up on the counter and stole Josh's quesadilla yesterday.  Then he climbed under the tree repeatedly.  But he's a sweetheart, and we love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were under the impression he doesn't bark except when getting in his crate.  We had him for about 5 hours before we heard him bark at all.  He has discovered all the neighbors' dogs though and has decided to make an exception to his crate so he can bark at them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up at 7:20 to watch him while Josh is at work.  I don't even get up this early on school mornings.. which may explain the lack of coherence in this post.  I'm going to have to seriously adjust to this whole going to bed at 9 thing.  I just laid there for at least an hour, probably more, last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy is currently destroying his 2nd toy in 2 days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I casually  mentioned the idea of getting a dog to Josh a few days ago, I had actually meant in about a year.  But he seemed receptive, so I went with it.  It makes me nervous though.  I haven't had a dog consistently since I was 9.  The one thing I'm not so fond of:  when I try to curl up with Josh, Buddy comes and curls up inbetween us.  Then I have to sit up so I'm not laying on Buddy, and somehow, Buddy is the one who ends up curled up with Josh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do love him (both the dog and Josh).  I'm just tired and a little bitter that I'm up earlier than I prefer during Christmas break.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/498758942242829314-8739329898466199305?l=artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/feeds/8739329898466199305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/buddy-quit-licking-my-toes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8739329898466199305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/498758942242829314/posts/default/8739329898466199305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://artofbeingeverything.blogspot.com/2008/12/buddy-quit-licking-my-toes.html' title='&quot;Buddy, quit licking my toes.&quot;'/><author><name>Whitney</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09436534684173288969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-804LfB_UvY8/Thm0G3l-tnI/AAAAAAAAAp0/gBZ-5MQztuw/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-07-08%2Bat%2B15.41%2B%25232.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
