<?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-7254525977807319723</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:21:08.042-06:00</updated><category term='ramble'/><category term='creative'/><category term='to-do list'/><category term='from the heart'/><category term='writing'/><title type='text'>novocain like notes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>46</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-4037286326880187812</id><published>2010-05-03T14:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T14:53:27.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Do I buy into this "God thing" &amp; do I go through cycles of guys: &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-4037286326880187812?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4037286326880187812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/05/formspringme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4037286326880187812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4037286326880187812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/05/formspringme.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-2809958754463530967</id><published>2010-04-30T13:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T13:57:31.263-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kings of Leon Use Somebody &amp; Lady Gaga Bad Romance LIVE cover</title><content type='html'>&lt;object style="background-image:url(http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/K28A02tpmvw/hqdefault.jpg)" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K28A02tpmvw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K28A02tpmvw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" width="425" height="344" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-2809958754463530967?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2809958754463530967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/04/kings-of-leon-use-somebody-lady-gaga.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2809958754463530967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2809958754463530967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/04/kings-of-leon-use-somebody-lady-gaga.html' title='Kings of Leon Use Somebody &amp; Lady Gaga Bad Romance LIVE cover'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7417856466441414053</id><published>2010-04-14T22:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T22:02:49.829-05:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Surgery on my elven ears and more here: &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-7417856466441414053?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7417856466441414053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/04/formspringme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7417856466441414053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7417856466441414053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/04/formspringme.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-3120355943693272888</id><published>2010-03-23T14:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T14:24:00.895-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Raise your voice against Bashir with Save Darfur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="https://donate.savedarfur.org/08/sudanelections"&gt;No legitimacy for Bashir | Save Darfur&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-3120355943693272888?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='https://donate.savedarfur.org/08/sudanelections' title='Raise your voice against Bashir with Save Darfur'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/3120355943693272888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/raise-your-voice-against-bashir-with.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3120355943693272888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3120355943693272888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/raise-your-voice-against-bashir-with.html' title='Raise your voice against Bashir with Save Darfur'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-3688033973469955526</id><published>2010-03-21T02:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T02:36:12.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Which would I choose? 1. Matthew mcconaughey 2. Barack Obama 3. Steven Tyler &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-3688033973469955526?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/3688033973469955526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_21.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3688033973469955526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3688033973469955526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_21.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6553026692657712569</id><published>2010-03-16T13:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T13:46:49.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Which is worse: loss of limbs, badly scarred face, or blindness. &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-6553026692657712569?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6553026692657712569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6553026692657712569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6553026692657712569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_16.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-5764391067776345167</id><published>2010-03-16T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T11:11:41.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Action: No legitimacy for Bashir | Save Darfur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://action.savedarfur.org/campaign/sudanelections/8d8ugx54f7mn6x76?"&gt;Take Action: No legitimacy for Bashir | Save Darfur&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-5764391067776345167?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://action.savedarfur.org/campaign/sudanelections/8d8ugx54f7mn6x76?' title='Take Action: No legitimacy for Bashir | Save Darfur'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/5764391067776345167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/take-action-no-legitimacy-for-bashir.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/5764391067776345167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/5764391067776345167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/take-action-no-legitimacy-for-bashir.html' title='Take Action: No legitimacy for Bashir | Save Darfur'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-9177845856612223384</id><published>2010-03-12T23:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T23:36:00.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Leonard Bernstein, why I won't pose nude, will I marry you, &amp; what I'd change about my personality here: &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-9177845856612223384?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/9177845856612223384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_2333.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/9177845856612223384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/9177845856612223384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_2333.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6170317552252076387</id><published>2010-03-12T00:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T00:36:44.925-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Posing nude and online dating. &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-6170317552252076387?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6170317552252076387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6170317552252076387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6170317552252076387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_12.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-4779634485581185253</id><published>2010-03-11T00:35:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T00:35:32.085-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Princess Consuela Bananahammock, gluten sensitivities, engagement rings, &amp; tall guys with bad hair cuts: &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-4779634485581185253?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4779634485581185253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4779634485581185253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4779634485581185253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_11.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6397338659244728630</id><published>2010-03-10T22:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T22:27:27.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Also. It seems everyone wants to ask about my height when given anonymity. THAT DIFFERS HOW FROM REALITY?  &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-6397338659244728630?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6397338659244728630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_8151.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6397338659244728630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6397338659244728630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_8151.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-8909410873074791773</id><published>2010-03-10T22:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T22:05:10.024-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Asian's fear of me, what I want in life, &amp; would I date short people: &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-8909410873074791773?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/8909410873074791773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_10.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/8909410873074791773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/8909410873074791773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme_10.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-2793126467286587139</id><published>2010-03-10T21:36:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T21:36:42.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Ask me a random question anonymously: &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-2793126467286587139?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2793126467286587139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2793126467286587139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2793126467286587139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/formspringme.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-3709707693930939608</id><published>2010-02-26T17:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T17:43:36.305-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>It's because my baby sister went to public school. &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-3709707693930939608?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/3709707693930939608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_581.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3709707693930939608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3709707693930939608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_581.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-372959680441086172</id><published>2010-02-26T00:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T00:01:11.721-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'> "How tall are you" &amp; "Whatever happened in SC": &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-372959680441086172?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/372959680441086172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_26.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/372959680441086172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/372959680441086172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_26.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6910453610875774153</id><published>2010-02-25T10:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T10:52:36.641-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Ask me anything. Anonymously. &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-6910453610875774153?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6910453610875774153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_25.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6910453610875774153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6910453610875774153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_25.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-2403230405139794010</id><published>2010-02-03T03:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T03:52:53.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>    &lt;p class="formspringmeQuestion"&gt;        &lt;strong&gt;I saw you at a TWLOHA event once and thought you were Jamie Tworkowski&amp;#039;s girlfriend. &lt;/strong&gt;     &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;Is this a question of clarification? Or is this a mutual friend being hilaaaaarious. :) Either way. Cue &amp;quot;Single Ladies&amp;quot; dance number now. (aka the answer is Jamie is fantastic but no. I am not his girlfriend.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-2403230405139794010?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2403230405139794010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_03.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2403230405139794010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2403230405139794010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_03.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-4308656395142821346</id><published>2010-02-01T23:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T23:55:08.219-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>    &lt;p class="formspringmeQuestion"&gt;        &lt;strong&gt;Do you feel like a narcissist while using formspring?&lt;/strong&gt;     &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;Yep, along with using Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter and every other social networking site in our extremely narcissistic society.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-4308656395142821346?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4308656395142821346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_5641.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4308656395142821346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4308656395142821346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_5641.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-2331669270402043531</id><published>2010-02-01T23:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T23:53:41.951-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>    &lt;p class="formspringmeQuestion"&gt;        &lt;strong&gt;F-16 or F-22&lt;/strong&gt;     &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="formspringmeAnswer"&gt;Ah! How can I choose?? F-16 is the reason I went to USAFA, but the F-22, I mean, come on. It&amp;#039;s the F-22. It was built to REPLACE the F-16. Ok, whoever asked this...you got your wish of seeing me geek out for a few moments ha ha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="formspringmeFooter"&gt;    &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm"&gt;Ask me anything&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-2331669270402043531?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2331669270402043531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_01.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2331669270402043531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2331669270402043531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme_01.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6706765872920692458</id><published>2010-02-01T22:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T22:41:57.213-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Ask me anything &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-6706765872920692458?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6706765872920692458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6706765872920692458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6706765872920692458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/02/formspringme.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-1537509815513266749</id><published>2010-01-25T23:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T23:08:10.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>formspring.me</title><content type='html'>Ask me anything &lt;a href="http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm" target="_blank"&gt;http://formspring.me/bethanyhamm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-1537509815513266749?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/1537509815513266749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/01/formspringme.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/1537509815513266749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/1537509815513266749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2010/01/formspringme.html' title='formspring.me'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6410884843061478340</id><published>2009-09-19T13:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T13:49:24.832-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creative'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='to-do list'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>my creativeness is strangling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SrUnQTRw1tI/AAAAAAAAAIA/HPwtz-BXwIw/s1600-h/jellyfish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SrUnQTRw1tI/AAAAAAAAAIA/HPwtz-BXwIw/s320/jellyfish.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383252090597463762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I need to write. I don't know what about. I've turned my creative side off in the last few weeks due to needing all I have to focus on academia and employment. And to this I say "BOO!" Today I have nothing to accomplish in either realm, and so today I am sitting cross-legged on my couch, drinking coffee, listening to The Airborne Toxic Event (Deluxe Edition), and thinking of all the things I should be doing for every other attention starved area of my life instead:&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a) reading my Bible. Good God my spiritual life has both flourished and been squandered in the last several weeks. I have learned so much and yet am constantly reminded of how much more I could be doing. For in all this mess that is my life, &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; is the point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;b) cleaning my room. If you were to enter the realm that is Bethany, this girl would be flat embarrassed to say the least. I'm never home save for sleep. I come home, change from my scrubs, usually toss them on the floor, sprawl out my homework all over the kitchen table, then pass out whenever that is done, only to lather rinse repeat the very next day. Speaking of, here is revelation... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:pause for laundry:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c) reading up/studying for my finals. Or reading the two new books I just purchased by Emily Dickensen and Lee Stroebel. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;d) Two words. Working. Out. While the stress of these last ten weeks has forced my sleep deprived body to lose 10lbs, and while I am on my feet and going 16 hours everyday, I. Am. Horribly. Out of shape!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e) writing new music. I have two shows coming up, one with a national band, so I am in heavy need of new things. Oh and not to mention, I am getting ready to start work on my first album....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having ADD is lending myself to getting bored with this basically self absorbed "to do" list. Because lets be honest. a) who is actually reading this and b) who really cares. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's a better list. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While typing it all out did let me see a clear list of what I need to do as well as let me procrastinate actually accomplishing said list, it's time to put up or shut up. So despite the fact that a nap truly is what I want to do, I'm going to try and get to the heart of what matters and in turn accomplish the tasks that spoke off of that heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. - Sometimes when I type, I feel like I'm full of a lot of bullshit, honestly. I genuinely am feeling the effects of pushing pause the creative heart of me...&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/7254525977807319723-6410884843061478340?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6410884843061478340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-creativeness-is-strangling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6410884843061478340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6410884843061478340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-creativeness-is-strangling.html' title='my creativeness is strangling'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SrUnQTRw1tI/AAAAAAAAAIA/HPwtz-BXwIw/s72-c/jellyfish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7596274623578669185</id><published>2009-05-23T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T11:40:50.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not what anyone would say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/ShgmyAVwRiI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JXqlj14kcyw/s1600-h/noname-2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/ShgmyAVwRiI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JXqlj14kcyw/s320/noname-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339059998774281762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's been a minute since I've put thought here. I suppose everything goes to facebook these days, mostly because I'm not afraid to have my heart on my sleeve. If you want to know, trust me, you will. I'm not much for hiding things. Sometimes that makes people uncomfortable, most times it makes me thankful. The above picture is something I made last week. I called it "My Brain." Just a small clue. "I just wanna say, I'm the type of person who lets fear drive. I'm the type of guy who lets it drive..." that song is on my player, again. Has been pretty much every day since I bought the album. Grace. A new concept to this little wretch. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Legalism is a stranglehold. It held me and my loved ones well into my adult years, and is still creeping in ways I'm sometimes blind to. Thank God for people who love me enough to speak truth to me even when it's hard for them to do. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The challenge recently has been that though God's grown me in leaps and bounds over this last year, it is time to let those big things I've learned filter down into the little things, into the everyday. "A view from a good friend who disapproves but understands" that lyric just played when I paused after everyday, and that's pretty much exactly it. A good friend sat me down and said I needed to change some things up. "Cause I know it's not what you deserve." She said while things have changed, and while I have had good things surrounding my life and good things in and out of my life, the enemy still had the capabilities of using those good things to keep me from best things. Her challenge? Be single. Be alone. Be purposeful in both an in that solitude seek Christ like never before and with no distraction. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When she spoke her words, my heart matched up with them word for word and seemed to jump for joy inside me. I had been absolutely wrestling with situations on which my heart wasn't clear. Questions like "am I ready? what of baggage? what of timing? what of all my plans I am craving for? What of travel, what of solitude? what of relationship PHOBIA?" plus a thousand others were bouncing inside my head at a million miles an hour, until I heard her say "be single." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In that instant my heart breathed a sigh of relief. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suddenly all my hopes and dreams seemed to be restored. All of the time I knew I would need to walk through my own heart was handed back to me. And it felt &lt;i&gt;good&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;::pause for blender sound drowning out ability to think::&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and we're ::blender again:: nope...wait for it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ok. we're back. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know it's hard to understand unless you're me. Most, almost &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt; really, of my friends are ready to be at that next phase of their life. They are actively seeking and searching for Mr. Him or Miss Her. And that makes sense, it does. They are the normal. But for me? That doesn't fit. Not just yet. Thinking of having a family terrifies me. Thinking of the responsibilities that come with being a wife makes my heart scream "I'M NOT READY YET!!!" and really. That's ok. That's actually a really good thing, because let's face it. I still have things I need to purge, things I need to learn, and just in general, life that I need to walk through before I can even &lt;i&gt;think&lt;/i&gt; about handing this heart over.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And right now, in that last pause, the perfect song plays. "You close your eyes and kiss your hand, and you blow it. but it isn't meant for me and I know it. Time never had a chance to heal your heart." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I am. I'm learning how to pray. Learning how to live a life of truth and love. Learning how to care for things in the moments they are given. Learning how to listen to the hearts of people I love. Learning how listen to my own heart. Learning to get exciting about where God is taking &lt;i&gt;just me&lt;/i&gt;. This is good. This is just good.&lt;/div&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/7254525977807319723-7596274623578669185?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7596274623578669185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-what-anyone-would-say.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7596274623578669185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7596274623578669185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-what-anyone-would-say.html' title='not what anyone would say'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/ShgmyAVwRiI/AAAAAAAAAGk/JXqlj14kcyw/s72-c/noname-2.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-3386377503412313362</id><published>2009-03-10T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T23:54:09.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>add to that</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SbdDtBqQ8pI/AAAAAAAAAGc/rmgyyT-QbHo/s1600-h/goingcrazy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SbdDtBqQ8pI/AAAAAAAAAGc/rmgyyT-QbHo/s320/goingcrazy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311788726325670546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this is where I consider my thoughts safe. not many follow here. Here is where I can say my heart is hurting and overwhelmed and no one that would react other than normal will be any the wiser. i want to punch and cry and scream and laugh and sing and be silent all at once. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have my first show in two years on friday. and i am not ready. i do not have the songs i want to sing, nor is my voice anywhere near over being sick. i am thinking of every reason to back out, but be brave i must. i can't back out or i'll be so disappointed in myself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;add to that that it is finals week. my first starts tomorrow and they don't end until Monday night. 4 total.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;add to that I am now scrambling to pull strings together for the first real shoot of my modeling career. and what else would it be but a bridal shoot. the irony. i have to FIND a wedding dress. remind me, but didn't i just SELL a wedding dress?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;add to that i am still working full time, M-F 8-5 and volunteering 2 nights a week. We have our video shoot this Wednesday for our big once a year event for my high school girls small group. I also have practice for my show Wednesday night. I also have a final Wednesday afternoon. I also have a doctor's appointment Wednesday noon. I also work Wednesday morning. Ha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;add to that I am training 5 days a week for the half marathon on May 3 as well as trying to keep my body from falling apart by going to a chiropractor 3x a week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;add to that I am leaving for the east coast to see my beloved family, but also to see a boy. a boy i haven't talked to in three days. a boy i used to fall asleep on the phone with every night. a boy who told me he still wanted to get to know me, to pursue me, but again, a boy i haven't heard from in three days, let alone heard his voice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can handle almost everything on my plate. almost. but let's face it. it's always the opposite sex that throws everything into upheaval. i am trying so so hard not to think about it, not to wonder what he's thinking about it, not to check my phone every 5 seconds to see if he's even so much as sent me a text, not to write heart break songs, not to FREAK OUT. cause really. i like him. a lot. and i'm feeling like his likes for me are fading fast. i think the hardest part is that he is the first i've let in since the last shattered things apart. so now holding my ears against the lies that "see, you might as well give up, you are always going to be left behind" is a hard thing to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but here's where the dramatic takes a twist towards the relief.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;here's where faith comes in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can only talk myself into sanity for so long before i realize i'm already insanely hopeless. if anything, through all the wondering and processing of this, i have learned that above all things, i must trust. i must trust that What i believe in will not fail me. that the Love i have around and in me will not simply let go and toss me to chance. There is rhyme. There is reason. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here i sit. Typing my feelings to a safe screen instead of speaking them to a boy and ruining everything. I am a happy busy girl all on my own. I am not defined by a boy, I am not defined by a photograph, I am not defined by a race. I am defined by Love and in Love tonight I will lay all these things to rest. There is nothing that needs adding to that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-3386377503412313362?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/3386377503412313362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2009/03/add-to-that.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3386377503412313362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3386377503412313362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2009/03/add-to-that.html' title='add to that'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SbdDtBqQ8pI/AAAAAAAAAGc/rmgyyT-QbHo/s72-c/goingcrazy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-2722815859483557830</id><published>2008-11-19T23:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T23:25:56.396-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SST037tVn9I/AAAAAAAAAFw/WNPYt1hfEmI/s1600-h/drawinghands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SST037tVn9I/AAAAAAAAAFw/WNPYt1hfEmI/s320/drawinghands.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270606705688158162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"&gt;stranger things can happen. greens fade into blue. i sit here writing to no one. not even to you. the bottle quickens the wasted time of the glass. drink in deeply, spill it all out. red is the color that you make me see. then eyes grow dark, move over this plane, and past all that was to be. shake it out, never there and yet saturates in and underneath. there is more to this girl than bruised knuckles and a pissed off state of mind. you are my other half and yet i can't save you from this now. the monster comes roaring back, tearing at both your souls. and i can't save you. i can't lend my expertise. i offer nothing but this heart on this sleeve. the monster is a devil, a glutton, a bastard child seeking more. your bodies it seeks to devour, yet your love it cannot hold. i believe in you. i believe in him. if only i could sink my teeth into its very center. if only i could kill it quick. green grass grows on hills I've yet to climb. oceans lap lazily on beaches yet felt by these soles. but give me just a minute. let me collect my thoughts. these passions are gathering, gaining strength, and soon, very soon, the world will see them explode. give me your hand. you will see. you. such a weighted word. orange and blue and red and you. there are no words. there are paintings. pictures. melodies and harmonies. all describing you. and yet your name remains elusive. does it? potential. i am potential. i fidget like a little girl with your voice in my ear. wiggling around and pacing in my room. i don't know what to do with you. back burner, first place. cuss words and waves. music and inspiration. a punching bag in the basement. checking my phone a thousand times a day. a nervous knee, the depth of me. and everyone asks who. you. i don't even know. you. mine is a face that wants to pay the bills. but a body that denies the truth. work harder. push harder. get there. be there. be everything they ask of a girl. and then ask yourself. is this what you want. write your songs, strain your vocal chords. and then ask, what part of this flames the flaunt. my thoughts are slowing. or are they speeding to the point of light with no coherency of what will come next. i can't type fast enough. I'll lose every time. take me to California i'll whisper as i start this drift towards sleep. kiss me on The tower. melt in and out of Greece. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-size:12px;"&gt;No me ame como él. Ámeme para mí.&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/7254525977807319723-2722815859483557830?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2722815859483557830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/11/stranger-things-can-happen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2722815859483557830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2722815859483557830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/11/stranger-things-can-happen.html' title=''/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SST037tVn9I/AAAAAAAAAFw/WNPYt1hfEmI/s72-c/drawinghands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-1292439590934177758</id><published>2008-11-19T00:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T00:10:18.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SSOtxSYFQHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/78Hx7J7rr9U/s1600-h/Chip+Puzzle+Incomplete.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SSOtxSYFQHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/78Hx7J7rr9U/s320/Chip+Puzzle+Incomplete.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270247051211653234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Incomplete"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I'll find relief&lt;br /&gt;I'll be arrived&lt;br /&gt;And I'll be friend to my friends who know how to be friends&lt;br /&gt;One day I'll be at peace&lt;br /&gt;I'll be enlightened and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt&lt;br /&gt;One day I will be healed&lt;br /&gt;I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day my mind will retreat&lt;br /&gt;And I'll know God&lt;br /&gt;And I'll be constantly one with her night dusk and day&lt;br /&gt;One day I'll be secure&lt;br /&gt;Like the women I see on their thirtieth anniversaries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever unfolding&lt;br /&gt;Ever expanding&lt;br /&gt;Ever adventurous&lt;br /&gt;And torturous&lt;br /&gt;And never done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I will speak freely&lt;br /&gt;I'll be less afraid &lt;br /&gt;And measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art&lt;br /&gt;One day I will be faith-filled&lt;br /&gt;I'll be trusting and spacious authentic and grounded and home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been running so sweaty my whole life&lt;br /&gt;Urgent for a finish line&lt;br /&gt;And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-1292439590934177758?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/1292439590934177758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/11/incomplete-one-day-ill-find-relief-ill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/1292439590934177758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/1292439590934177758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/11/incomplete-one-day-ill-find-relief-ill.html' title=''/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SSOtxSYFQHI/AAAAAAAAAFo/78Hx7J7rr9U/s72-c/Chip+Puzzle+Incomplete.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-370723303679793437</id><published>2008-11-11T23:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T23:12:54.292-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the only song i wrote for you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SRplzr8LrtI/AAAAAAAAAFA/nkGaSl0ttMg/s1600-h/wallpaper-1280x1024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SRplzr8LrtI/AAAAAAAAAFA/nkGaSl0ttMg/s320/wallpaper-1280x1024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267634652806098642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);   font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;i told myself i never would. never write a song to commemorate you. tonight you crossed the line. now i stand, unwrapping this line around my neck. i have chosen not to follow, someone i once gave my heart to. with the firing squad at the ready, everything laid out on a sleeve, your last response, "i'm done wasting any more time with you...I won't spend my strength." what part of "this is healed" do you not understand. how dare you scratch and lash your way back in. you are not my owner, i no longer a slave. this girl has broken free of you. busy yourself with someone else's grave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;___________________________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you broke this heart for the last time/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tonight the tables have all but/ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;turned for now this heart breaks for/ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you who hide behind your own /&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pretensions that keep you safe/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is all you'll ever need/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and all you'll ever be is sorry/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is a bridge/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will let it burn/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;watch the match/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;drop from this unregretting heart/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is a bridge/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will let it burn/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you say no more strength to be spent on me/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there was never a day where i was not your crutch/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a world revolving around your heart/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a world that destroyed everything it touched/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you are sinking deeper in/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you are more than self absorbed/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is a bridge/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will let it burn/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;watch the match/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;drop from this unregretting heart/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is a bridge/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i will let it burn/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i choked my way out/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;battered, bleeding and broken/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;at the edge of your raging surface/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i found my strength, something true i could hope in//&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-370723303679793437?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/370723303679793437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/11/only-song-i-wrote-for-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/370723303679793437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/370723303679793437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/11/only-song-i-wrote-for-you.html' title='the only song i wrote for you.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SRplzr8LrtI/AAAAAAAAAFA/nkGaSl0ttMg/s72-c/wallpaper-1280x1024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-4512382970410207482</id><published>2008-10-28T23:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T23:18:13.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SQfj_fTH2OI/AAAAAAAAAEo/hz82mxTKISI/s1600-h/2734868445_b5e68f8d26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SQfj_fTH2OI/AAAAAAAAAEo/hz82mxTKISI/s320/2734868445_b5e68f8d26.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262425369478682850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;fingers itch for words to tell you what i'm really thinking.caffeine sends a surge, with a nervous twitch that sends me shaking.kiss me lullaby.send me off to chase my dreams.but keep these knuckles bleeding.let me fight this out on the big screen.give me divine inspiration to rip out these chains that hold me back.fear uncertainty and complacency die a thousand deaths.no place for you here.no time for your 24 hour rules.for i do not have 24 hours.this life not mine to lose.live now.live best.live more than just alive.this is the diary of change.the documentation of metamorphosis.a release on which soul thrives.these secret words to you leave me with only me.all continues to shatter and break,a breakdown to my knees.while we pursue my place,like glass to water falls each piece.in ocean's endless face a transformation.a definition.an introduction of a single beating moment,of this potential,to me.-b.sue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-4512382970410207482?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4512382970410207482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/10/fingers-itch-for-words-to-tell-you-what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4512382970410207482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4512382970410207482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/10/fingers-itch-for-words-to-tell-you-what.html' title=''/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SQfj_fTH2OI/AAAAAAAAAEo/hz82mxTKISI/s72-c/2734868445_b5e68f8d26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-274577374959257045</id><published>2008-10-22T00:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T00:10:08.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>she told me she just needed a break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SP61pwnfLnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/uYO9XomPRC4/s1600-h/Awaken-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SP61pwnfLnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/uYO9XomPRC4/s320/Awaken-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259841143845105266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);   line-height: 14px; font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:11px;"&gt;My personal problems were silenced tonight. It was my night to volunteer at Clinic with a Heart. We helped 62 homeless and in need people in two hours. Among all the storied I met tonight, there was a girl named Pam*. Pam is a mother. Pam is homeless. Pam is bipolar. Pam is the victim of domestic abuse. Pam can't afford help and Pam can't afford a home. God put me in Pam's way tonight, partly for Pam, but mostly for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat with Pam tonight as she cried. Through tears she told me she just needed a break. She needed a jump start, a chance. I brought her water to calm her down, and napkins to dry her eyes. I sat with Pam tonight as she cried. I cried on the drive home. I cry now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Break my heart for what breaks Yours."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sang that in all earnestness and sincerity from the stage only two days ago. At the same time Pam was calling 911. She was watching her boyfriend attempt suicide because she had found the strength to leave him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Open my eyes to what I can't see. Open my heart to what's bigger than me. Open my ears to Your whispering. Open my hands to their suffering."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked. He answered. Consider this heart more than wide awake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-274577374959257045?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/274577374959257045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/10/she-told-me-she-just-needed-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/274577374959257045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/274577374959257045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/10/she-told-me-she-just-needed-break.html' title='she told me she just needed a break'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SP61pwnfLnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/uYO9XomPRC4/s72-c/Awaken-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-4866217563183020763</id><published>2008-09-28T13:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T13:52:22.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>awaken</title><content type='html'>As I put thought to word&lt;br /&gt;I bitterly think, if you don’t get this&lt;br /&gt;You. Don’t. Get. Me.&lt;br /&gt;But who could at this point&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even get myself.&lt;br /&gt;There is so much here now and so much pending&lt;br /&gt;There are so many choices and so much lending&lt;br /&gt;Itself to my craziness.&lt;br /&gt;Will I always change my mind?&lt;br /&gt;Will I never just know?&lt;br /&gt;Will I always second guess myself&lt;br /&gt;Will there ever be someone to show&lt;br /&gt;Who my heart really is.&lt;br /&gt;Or will they always slip and take advantage.&lt;br /&gt;What is this of purity, what is this of forgiveness?&lt;br /&gt;What is this of leadership and heartfelt intervention.&lt;br /&gt;What is this of grace and what is this true compassion?&lt;br /&gt;Can my heart be free to fly or must I remain pensive.&lt;br /&gt;You don’t know me.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know me.&lt;br /&gt;And yet we distract myself.&lt;br /&gt;When my heart should be thinking about its ways to offer&lt;br /&gt;All it can conjure up is thoughts about itself.&lt;br /&gt;My focus has shifted, to the point where it is all but gone.&lt;br /&gt;Sitting now unmoved in pews, one question:&lt;br /&gt;Where did I go wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly&lt;br /&gt;You appear again&lt;br /&gt;Through curly hair and a ‘been there’ face.&lt;br /&gt;You cut right through using their mouth in ways I can’t explain.&lt;br /&gt;My heart cries for again I’ve missed the mark&lt;br /&gt;My heart cries for again, there You are.&lt;br /&gt;My desire that once waivered is awakened by Your breath.&lt;br /&gt;My heart clings to its purpose, to its Lover, to its Friend.&lt;br /&gt;The questions and the tears are not instantly removed.&lt;br /&gt;The ‘now whats’ and the ‘with whats’ remain stuck between my shoes.&lt;br /&gt;But here surfaces clarity&lt;br /&gt;Where the true cry of this heart belongs, &lt;br /&gt;{You} Help me.&lt;br /&gt;{You} Help me be.&lt;br /&gt;{You} Help me be strong.&lt;br /&gt;b.sue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Awaken" Bethany Hamm&lt;br /&gt;Here I am again&lt;br /&gt;Heart split from my head&lt;br /&gt;My words are separated&lt;br /&gt;My mind is all but jaded&lt;br /&gt;Awaken&lt;br /&gt;Awaken me.&lt;br /&gt;Open my eyes to what I can’t see&lt;br /&gt;Open my heart to what’s bigger than me&lt;br /&gt;Open my ears to Your whispering&lt;br /&gt;Open my hands to their suffering&lt;br /&gt;Awaken&lt;br /&gt;Awaken me.&lt;br /&gt;You’ve lasted all my crazy games&lt;br /&gt;You never held me to my shame&lt;br /&gt;How could I look past You&lt;br /&gt;I feel Your fingers through my hair&lt;br /&gt;I can sense You everywhere&lt;br /&gt;Awaken&lt;br /&gt;Awaken me.&lt;br /&gt;Open my eyes to what I can’t see&lt;br /&gt;Open my heart to what’s bigger than me&lt;br /&gt;Open my ears to Your whispering&lt;br /&gt;Open my hands to their suffering&lt;br /&gt;Awaken&lt;br /&gt;Awaken me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-4866217563183020763?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4866217563183020763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/09/awaken.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4866217563183020763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4866217563183020763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/09/awaken.html' title='awaken'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-8895031888150496119</id><published>2008-09-22T10:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T10:55:52.157-05:00</updated><title type='text'>front door.</title><content type='html'>i went to sleep with tears.&lt;br /&gt;i woke up with tears.&lt;br /&gt;and i can't tell you if i'm doing this to myself.&lt;br /&gt;i don't know where my head is.&lt;br /&gt;i feel like my heart is spinning.&lt;br /&gt;and i'm trying to state this plainly&lt;br /&gt;as to not lose anyone's train of thought&lt;br /&gt;especially my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i just need to be a recluse.&lt;br /&gt;maybe i just need to recharge.&lt;br /&gt;but how do i do that.&lt;br /&gt;and what does that look like.&lt;br /&gt;again, more questions to my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i should just wear a sign&lt;br /&gt;a sign that says warning:not normal&lt;br /&gt;but then i'd suppose i'd have to make signs for us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so. here i sit. lost in thought.&lt;br /&gt;praying that You show me that You're in control.&lt;br /&gt;and here i sit. not wanting to leave.&lt;br /&gt;but knowing that i must walk out this front door.&lt;br /&gt;my brain is a mess and my heart is spinning.&lt;br /&gt;but i must keep going.&lt;br /&gt;i must walk out this front door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-8895031888150496119?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/8895031888150496119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/09/front-door.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/8895031888150496119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/8895031888150496119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/09/front-door.html' title='front door.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-834413072708669024</id><published>2008-09-10T15:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T15:22:33.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SMgsbLcZTfI/AAAAAAAAAEU/kyvR4JcTAO4/s1600-h/01AwcAX3d2GncAAAABAAAAAAAAAAA_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244490611512921586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SMgsbLcZTfI/AAAAAAAAAEU/kyvR4JcTAO4/s320/01AwcAX3d2GncAAAABAAAAAAAAAAA_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dreams be dreams.&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/7254525977807319723-834413072708669024?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/834413072708669024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/09/dreams-be-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/834413072708669024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/834413072708669024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/09/dreams-be-dreams.html' title=''/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SMgsbLcZTfI/AAAAAAAAAEU/kyvR4JcTAO4/s72-c/01AwcAX3d2GncAAAABAAAAAAAAAAA_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-5850335176527397126</id><published>2008-08-23T22:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T22:56:23.425-05:00</updated><title type='text'>free fallin'</title><content type='html'>my mind is all but gone as i sit alone at an old table in a new kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;john mayer's version of free fallin' is on repeat.&lt;br /&gt;i have slept three hours in the last forty eight.&lt;br /&gt;yet here, today, amidst the exhaustion, beautiful clarity.&lt;br /&gt;i stood again alone at the river's edge and felt as though i was going to fall in by no choice of my own.&lt;br /&gt;the water and everything that swirled in my heart was sucking me in and down and under with all the emotions in my head and soul.&lt;br /&gt;and then i let go.&lt;br /&gt;and then i walked away.&lt;br /&gt;that same day i had yelled in my car at God and said "Take it. Please take it. Protect my heart, keep it safe until the one YOU have deemed "Mr. Him" is in front of me and who YOU know will have the strength to carry the weight of a woman's heart. You keep this heart and do not let me give it away a moment too soon."&lt;br /&gt;and there at the water, ripped out. removed.&lt;br /&gt;confusion was gone.&lt;br /&gt;Anger was gone.&lt;br /&gt;Girlish webs of romantic feelings that settled were gone.&lt;br /&gt;ripped out. removed.&lt;br /&gt;But there was no hole in its wake.&lt;br /&gt;No tears to morn its loss.&lt;br /&gt;Simply a whole girl with a soul on fire.&lt;br /&gt;With a new desire to be more.&lt;br /&gt;A desire for the next.&lt;br /&gt;Off the ledge now.&lt;br /&gt;Free fallin.&lt;br /&gt;The words from the stage left my body shaking with sobs and my heart over flowing.&lt;br /&gt;There is so much that there is no time for sleep these days.&lt;br /&gt;So much and yet everything able to be done in the 24 hours given to me.&lt;br /&gt;And tomorrow we start again.&lt;br /&gt;A fresh 24.&lt;br /&gt;One more chance to free fall into the unknown of living out the passion I was created for.&lt;br /&gt;come with?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-5850335176527397126?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/5850335176527397126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/free-fallin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/5850335176527397126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/5850335176527397126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/free-fallin.html' title='free fallin&apos;'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7161744015227571473</id><published>2008-08-11T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T22:54:18.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>prayer:please</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SKEJZRxQoII/AAAAAAAAAEE/5jG91pOfCsM/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233474571852619906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SKEJZRxQoII/AAAAAAAAAEE/5jG91pOfCsM/s200/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow my friend Todd will be going in for surgery to have a tumor removed. Please pray for 1) total removal of the tumor 2) that the doctors can determine quickly how aggressive the cancer is to decide further action 3) that they do not find that the cancer has spread and 4) that Todd would have complete healing in order to be able to return to full duty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Todd is a fighter pilot in the Air Force. His girlfriend Rachael is my best friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your prayers are appreciated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-7161744015227571473?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7161744015227571473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/prayerplease.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7161744015227571473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7161744015227571473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/prayerplease.html' title='prayer:please'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SKEJZRxQoII/AAAAAAAAAEE/5jG91pOfCsM/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-5373983586473394963</id><published>2008-08-10T16:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T16:20:17.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>.to.do.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SJ9bjDsascI/AAAAAAAAAD8/qXeYEe77l0c/s1600-h/dhump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233001949872959938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SJ9bjDsascI/AAAAAAAAAD8/qXeYEe77l0c/s200/dhump.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;…and there’s this burning, just like there’s always been, I’ve never been so alone, alone and I’ve and I’ve, I’ve never been so alive. So alive.&lt;br /&gt;Pay off school loans.&lt;br /&gt;Have 3 months salary in savings.&lt;br /&gt;Get better at guitar.&lt;br /&gt;Write enough songs for an entire album.&lt;br /&gt;Record said album.&lt;br /&gt;Paint the ideas in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Become a good listener.&lt;br /&gt;Become a good friend/sister/daughter/cousin/granddaughter/niece.&lt;br /&gt;Find a way to pay to go back to school.&lt;br /&gt;Get my RN.&lt;br /&gt;Go to leadership college for missions.&lt;br /&gt;Become fluent again in Spanish.&lt;br /&gt;Become fluent in French and German.&lt;br /&gt;Live in another country.&lt;br /&gt;Live in another country on the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;Surf.&lt;br /&gt;Become good at surfing/ocean photography.&lt;br /&gt;Not get annihilated by a shark during any of above listed ocean activities.&lt;br /&gt;Be a life changing tool in someone else’s life, part of a “pivot” moment.&lt;br /&gt;Have a child, my own or adopted.&lt;br /&gt;Preferably get married if the latter is my own. If adopting, I’m open on the whole marriage subject. You understand I’m sure.&lt;br /&gt;If referring to above marriage subject, marry someone from another country with a fantastic accent. Or blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Be open to changing any of above listed plans if a greater goal emerges.&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/7254525977807319723-5373983586473394963?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/5373983586473394963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/todo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/5373983586473394963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/5373983586473394963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/08/todo.html' title='.to.do.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SJ9bjDsascI/AAAAAAAAAD8/qXeYEe77l0c/s72-c/dhump.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-564020636869731210</id><published>2008-07-30T22:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T22:41:27.819-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You're so brilliant, don't soon forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SJE0WVyUo9I/AAAAAAAAADs/LdKuu63efZg/s1600-h/lastdays+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229018200763835346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SJE0WVyUo9I/AAAAAAAAADs/LdKuu63efZg/s200/lastdays+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;this song has woken me up every morning for i can't tell you how long. i keep meaning to post the lyrics, and finally 2 minutes before work i sat down to finally do it. this is for whoever's heart needs it now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;anberlin-unwinding cable car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/anberlin"&gt;www.myspace.com/anberlin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;emotive unstable you're like an unwinding cable car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listening for voices, but it's the choices that make us who we are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Go your own way, even seasons have changed just burn those new leaves over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So self-absorbed you've seemed to ignore the prayers that have already come about&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the correlation of salvation and love Don't drop your arms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't drop your arms, I'll guard your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With quiet words I'll lead you in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Backing away from the problem of pain you never had a home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You've been misguided, you're hiding in shadows for so very long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't you believe that you've been deceived, that you're no better than the hair in your eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It never disguised what you're really thinking of&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the correlation of salvation and love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't drop your arms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't drop your arms, I'll guard your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With quiet words I'll lead you in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the correlation of salvation and love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't drop your arms, I'll guard your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With quiet words I'll lead you in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're so brilliant, don't soon forget&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're so brilliant, grace marked your heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're so brilliant, don't soon forget&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the correlation of salvation and love &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't drop your arms, I'll guard your heart &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With quiet words I'll lead you in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-564020636869731210?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/564020636869731210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/youre-so-brilliant-dont-soon-forget.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/564020636869731210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/564020636869731210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/youre-so-brilliant-dont-soon-forget.html' title='You&apos;re so brilliant, don&apos;t soon forget'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SJE0WVyUo9I/AAAAAAAAADs/LdKuu63efZg/s72-c/lastdays+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6646466733870727252</id><published>2008-07-20T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T23:44:24.847-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from the heart'/><title type='text'>for:you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SIQM44rG-2I/AAAAAAAAADk/luefBvhltYY/s1600-h/ocean_dreams2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225315639082023778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SIQM44rG-2I/AAAAAAAAADk/luefBvhltYY/s200/ocean_dreams2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i haven't written in cohesive thoughts in awhile. i can't really give you a reason why. i suppose part of me thinks either a) no one is listening or b) right about now, the significant things my heart is feeling cannot be defined by words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps it is a little of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like every time i sit to write i have the same haunting thought driving my fingers. what next. when will i experience that big "a ha" moment. when will i feel like i have finally accomplished what i set out to do. as i write that i feel like that "what" that i set out to do will be ever changing. so really, i'll always be in search of that accomplishment. i suppose i wouldn't be living if i didn't feel that way. unsatisfied i mean. 7 years ago "what" was being a fighter pilot. 5 years ago, a photographer. 6 months ago, a wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, finally, i feel as though i am starting to fulfill my purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all of those things were good things, good dreams. all of those things i truly felt i would do anything to attain. my heart was truly in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but. they. missed. the. bigger. dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not complicated. it's really rather simple. yet it has changed me to the absolute core. it has redefined everything in my life and opened the very eyes i see this life through. it has broken through the shallowness of a trophy girl who let the opinions of others define her. it has opened a legalist to look beyond the rules and to the heart. it has brought hope to this girl who once sat crying in the bathroom with a knife to her wrists. living with the bigger dream in view dramatically changed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;love God.love people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can i get my point across through words and a web log, not likely. can i even get it across live and in person? based on the controversy i've encountered and created in the last few months, no. some people believe that people can't change. for me that is incredibly hard to swallow. but then there i go again, caring so much what others think of me, how others perceive me. and while that is important, while i do care for others hearts, i have come to find that i cannot change them. more than once my attempts to keep my nose clean has backfired. i don't know which is the lesser of two evils, coming off as snobbish because you "don't want to create drama" or putting yourself knowingly into situations that would make you appear snobbish because by being there you are saying "i don't care about your heart, or your wishes, or really anything about you at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i know that is the problem, i do care. my heart does hurt. what's more frustrating about myself is that as i write this, i'm not writing with just one particular person in mind. there are a few that i've encountered this within the last few months. so what does that say about me? i suppose it says what really is truth, i make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are more than a few relationships that have been severed in my life within the last six months. some for the best, some for the better, some that i can't give a definition to. i think that's why i've been sitting on the quieter side of life these days. i think that's why i'm slow to respond. there is a redefinition going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which brings me back to my main point i have deviated from. love God, love people. Through all of this trouble my own little heart has somehow created and survived, those four words have begun a redefinition of everything i know. from how i see myself, to the work that i do, to the dreams that i have, to how my heart looks at you. those four words have redefined everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't get me wrong, quiet does not mean simple. it does not mean easy. this is the absolute hardest thing i've ever had to go through in my life. you try packing up everything you once held as your hope for happily ever after and still somehow continue to breathe. you try not throwing up knowing that you have visibly just watched an absolutely life altering moment in your life, when you see infront of you the path your life could have taken as opposed to the one your are so gratefully on. you try not being scared out of your mind when you know you are called to speak out to another hurting heart, that your words could be the difference between life and death for them, but it is what you are called to do, so you must. you try longing to make an incredible difference and yet facing what seems like road block after road block until the last thing you want to do is keep trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here i realize how incredibly prideful that was of me. i say "you try" as if you are not out there facing your own battles, most probably much much worse than this fair heart has ever had to endure. so i applaud you. i pat you on the back. if anything, i say all these things so that others will know, i know. i'm here too. we are too much of an isolationist culture. i suppose that is why i ramble as i do. because at this point, if you're still reading it's because you have connected. we need more of that. more connection, more community. more availability for one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so to you, to your heart, i say keep pushing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;keep pushing and know there are those of us like myself who are more than on your side. most importantly there is a Savior, a Creator, a soul satisfier who is incredibly in love with you, right where you are. no games. no gimmicks. no rules or regulations. simply a love that i will never comprehend but will eternally be grateful for. it is that Love that has changed me. it is that Love that makes me want my life, my mistakes, my choices, my dreams, my heart be a part of changing you, a part of changing the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-6646466733870727252?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6646466733870727252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/foryou.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6646466733870727252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6646466733870727252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/foryou.html' title='for:you'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SIQM44rG-2I/AAAAAAAAADk/luefBvhltYY/s72-c/ocean_dreams2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-4993172511860665585</id><published>2008-07-19T18:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T18:34:06.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>for listening hearts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SIJ53ukp2EI/AAAAAAAAADc/omhR9nxWbN8/s1600-h/heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224872516004730946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SIJ53ukp2EI/AAAAAAAAADc/omhR9nxWbN8/s200/heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Some of us begin with God at an early age and run far away, searching for what our hearts long for. Like Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist, our long journey will lead us back to where we began, but we return as changed people with new eyes to see what once we were blind to. I meet many people who are running from God, angry with God, and yet at the same time desperately searching for him. If God is love, it is maddening when we are running from God and yet searching for love."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The truth of the matter is that we're uncomfortable with God. We're disoriented by the way he loves.We want God to love us for an endless number of good reasons.At the same time, we find ourselves nervous before him because he sees right through us and knows everything that isn't lovable. He tells us that he is our place of rest and acceptance and unconditional love, yet we cannot reconcile this love. We know who we are. We know all that is unlovely within us. We wonder who we have become worthy of such love, and that's what worries us - we know we're not. So we run.We run from God because he sees us best; we run from God to escape our own sense of unworthiness; we run from God because we are certain that the closer we come to him, the more guilt and same we will feel.It's just too hard to believe that if you come near to God, you will find yourself not drowning in condemnation, but swimming in compassion.Jesus called to all who were weary and who found their souls exhausted to come to him and find rest. He is telling us that God will be for us our place called home. We run from God because we long to be loved and we have convinced ourselves that the One who is most loving could not and would not embrace us.We run from the One our souls crave.It is insanity to run from God and search for love."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"In the end all religions misrepresent God. They either dictate requirements for love or simply become a requiem for love. I think many of us have rightly given up on God on this basis alone. We've been told that God is a reluctant lover and that his standards must be met before there can be any talk of love. This is lunacy. Love exists because God is love. Our souls will never find satisfaction until our hearts have found this love that we so desperately yearn for."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;excerpts from "Soul Cravings" - Erwin McManus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-4993172511860665585?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/4993172511860665585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/for-listening-hearts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4993172511860665585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/4993172511860665585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/for-listening-hearts.html' title='for listening hearts'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SIJ53ukp2EI/AAAAAAAAADc/omhR9nxWbN8/s72-c/heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-2555523004501224174</id><published>2008-07-16T22:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T22:30:38.413-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ramble'/><title type='text'>much about nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SH677TtEMFI/AAAAAAAAADU/01su9yJr5qY/s1600-h/300px-Have_Blue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223819245372321874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SH677TtEMFI/AAAAAAAAADU/01su9yJr5qY/s200/300px-Have_Blue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;blind pilot. thanks levi. very very good. very very me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think it's funny that after all of me being upset today and feeling like injustice was about to spring a wide open well and swallow me, i opened up to read "Don't ever say, 'I'll get you for that!' Wait for God. He'll settle the score." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ethos water. buy it. drink it. help children get clean water. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think i am itching again to move. good thing i am next weekish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i hate itching. especially in the middle of the night when i'm sooooo tired and all i want to do is sleep, but my legs itch from the insane amount of big bites i aquired whilst laying in a hammock.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my abs hate me after their workout this evening. they WILL most likely murder me tomorrow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;with two cases of TB and working 2 doctors and 3 nurses short this week gave me only the slightest touch of what real life could be like for me some day. I'm exhausted now, does that mean i won't make it? or simply that one day i'll be stronger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;another country awaits me. i can feel it. i wonder which one? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think i really like being single right now. a lot. that kind of scares me. in a really odd good way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i still dream about him. even in my dreams he's yelling at me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i think i didn't just sprain my ankle. pretty much on the positive side that it's broken. yay! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;three things i want but don't really need in the next 6 months: a new camera. a new guitar. a new stamp in my passport. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ok ok i'm not really writing at all, i'm cheating with my random thoughts. i suppose i'm either a) unsorted out in my thinking or b) don't have any huge thoughts of significance right now. i haven't written in a while. that usually means i'm happy and busy. so that is safe to say that is good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;deep blue. for whatever reasons i love those two words together. invokes alot. maybe i'll name my band that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and there i go with my random thoughts again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and here i go sparing you. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/7254525977807319723-2555523004501224174?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/2555523004501224174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/much-about-nothing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2555523004501224174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/2555523004501224174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/much-about-nothing.html' title='much about nothing'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SH677TtEMFI/AAAAAAAAADU/01su9yJr5qY/s72-c/300px-Have_Blue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7641989492835670193</id><published>2008-07-12T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T12:01:07.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a conversation between heavy and light hearts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SHjjKaYi6LI/AAAAAAAAADM/rPfVhx-OEko/s1600-h/heavylight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222173535956560050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SHjjKaYi6LI/AAAAAAAAADM/rPfVhx-OEko/s200/heavylight.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;from:friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;so... get this... im sitting here, IMing with a priest in rwanda and am radically convicted. on priorities. and maybe, its not terrible. but i sit her eadn think 'how many of my brides love their pictures more than their marriage?!' and over there in rwanda, they just want a few thousand dollars to have a house that doesnt make their toddler sick from the mold! they cherish relationships, cherish their time, and they know what matters... and i sit here, in a cush office, making what i consider little money, and yet, i say i would sell it all to get over there... then why havent i? we IM, and he says "keep praying for rwanda" and my heart beats a little faster. i feel like my goals are so short term. i think i need a d200 to bring my weddings to the next caliber and maybe i do. but... seirously? do i? no. i could take that thousand bucks and really make a dent in my debt. i would be that much closer to being back there. to being in the land that is the definition of "hope". aghhh, my heart is truly heavy and light. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;from:me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's a process i am so familiar with too. and to be honest i don't have a good answer for you other than to stick close to the heart of God. i could go on and on with all that my mind has processed, but the above line quite simply sums up the point. and you know that. He is never late. He has your perfect plan in being a tool of His army to advance His kingdom at the center of His will. That and incredible love for your heavy and light heart that we can't even begin to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;on another note, I heard something incredibly desturbing from my dad the other day. Sundanese are an incredible problem here in Lincoln. The crime rate related to them is sky high. There are constantly huge fights in town related to them as well as break ins, robberies, etc. That really bothered this heart. These are the same people that i fight for recognition every day, how I tell everyone who will listen about the conflict in Darfur. Perhaps these are men who were with or supported the Janjaweed. But that doesn't make sense then as to why they would be here. I remember the documentary "God Grew Tire of Us" and think "they weren't that way, why this problem here?" Then I think, "how can I help," then I just feel overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cheesy answer for both of us is to pray. and maybe it's not so cheesy, but I know you know what I mean. I need something to DO. I need a plan of attack, action, something tangible. Maybe that's my problem right there. Trying to take it on myself, my way, my hands, instead of the Master's. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is good to know there is a heart that wrestles with what my heart does as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-7641989492835670193?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7641989492835670193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/conversation-between-heavy-and-light.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7641989492835670193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7641989492835670193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/conversation-between-heavy-and-light.html' title='a conversation between heavy and light hearts.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SHjjKaYi6LI/AAAAAAAAADM/rPfVhx-OEko/s72-c/heavylight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-3114883331247637149</id><published>2008-07-06T13:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T14:14:48.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a recap kind of afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SHEZootSHgI/AAAAAAAAACs/HYhx8N3dZxo/s1600-h/5-26+065-2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219981629011926530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SHEZootSHgI/AAAAAAAAACs/HYhx8N3dZxo/s200/5-26+065-2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;March 18, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say love and all religions and everything will pass&lt;br /&gt;Yet here I sit with broken knees and a nervousness to last&lt;br /&gt;Eyes aching, wrists are sore, fingers that keep searching&lt;br /&gt;Brain waves, stomach grumbles, shift and then I’m gone&lt;br /&gt;When did you drop me off&lt;br /&gt;What have You left me to&lt;br /&gt;Positive and all reflections and everything that’s used&lt;br /&gt;Spinning in this vexed compartment, puzzle pieces all ahead&lt;br /&gt;Fading writing for hands that hold the truth&lt;br /&gt;The Beginning and the End&lt;br /&gt;Don’t interpret me. Know me.&lt;br /&gt;They are two with opposite direction&lt;br /&gt;Simple complexity with jaded pin stripes and earrings for all occasions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 24, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know really where to start. Left out. That’s what I feel like. Is it my fault? Am I not looking hard enough? I missed him yesterday. I was lying down on the floor and I wanted him to lie down next to me. To put his arms around me and snuggle up to my neck. You have suffered enough and warred with yourself, it’s time that you won. Take this sinking boat and point it home, we’ve still got time. Do we. Is there still time, or was that the end. Did I really find the love of my life and did he really walk away. am I really alone today. Am I really penniless alone in a basement. Are these tears really there. Will this belly really ever feel a kick. Or is it all faded to the back. Where do I belong now. Where are you leading me. what happened to my choice. Where do I go now. Where do I go now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;song choice:Falling Slowly, Glen Hansard &amp;amp; Marketa Irglova&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 25, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write me some jazz&lt;br /&gt;Play me a tune&lt;br /&gt;Let me loose from the black to the blue&lt;br /&gt;Whisper me smoky&lt;br /&gt;Sing me to sleep&lt;br /&gt;Slow down the lines and the promises that won’t keep&lt;br /&gt;Soft and easy, caress my dreams&lt;br /&gt;Write me some jazz&lt;br /&gt;Keep all of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 26, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at 6am with a migraine and then again at 9. Desperately missing him. I cried and cried. I have no idea what sparked it, but I just missed him. I missed his hands; I missed his lips, the words and kisses that would come from them. I wanted to just be near him, I wanted to say we can do this, we can fix this. But somehow I knew we couldn’t. I found something he had said that I had written down after we had put 1300 miles between us. “I love you by the way, just incase I get hit by a meteor or something before I finish that thought.” So much has changed since then. Or has it really at all. This void seems so large and I’m so oddly thankful for that. The vastness of my aching heart has pushed me to nothing else but the sufficiency of God.&lt;br /&gt;I have my list. My “Do Not Settle” list. For me and for Mr. Him whoever he may be. My standards are so high now; I almost fear they could count every one out. I suppose that’s how it should be, a very poignant filter. Sharply perceptive.&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing about pain is you don’t realize its worth until much later on, possibly never at all. Right now I simply want to know where I’m to go next. I understand that if we knew then there would be no cause for faith. However, I’m not asking for the entire picture, only the next step. Nothing and everything seems to be coming my way all at once. Frustration and excitement live in the same body of mine. A very anomalous place to be.&lt;br /&gt;Here’s to getting your heart out by the way. Always so helpful. And here’s to those who came to my aid this morning, understanding full well that all days can’t be bright and cheery. We are not defined by the things we suffer, and the clouds always have a way of parting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;song choice:23, Jimmy Eat World&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 4, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a very small thing today, gingerly stepping out into the sunlight of what it doesn’t know. I feel a rift in my heart between the desire to be bitter and the desire to move on. An angry Alanis type banner seems fitting, but as I’ve said before, I don’t want to be that. That’s not what I’m about. The countdown is coming a lot faster than I had planned. Maybe that’s why today is coming at me odd. Things have started to take on a shape, but still there is no solid direction. I suppose I’m not really worried about that, maybe I should be. Everyone I look up to and have surrounded myself with during this time has been nothing less than supportive, telling me I’m doing the right thing, normalizing my questions and feelings, pushing me to do what I need to do to set myself up for success. I think that’s why I’m not stressed out. I know this time is going exactly as it should. I’m not sitting on my hands doing nothing, I’m actively healing. Have you ever done that before? Actively healed. Walked right into your own heart and found what hurt and set up a game plan on how to deal with that hurt so that it didn’t trap you for the rest of your life. If you haven’t you should. I can’t explain its worth. I’ve been active through all of this. Things have weeded themselves out into what looks like an obvious path for me to take, and to take alone. The glimmer of excitement was at first an off thing to feel, and I almost felt guilty for feeling it. Through this time of rebuilding, new opportunities, new dreams, dreams that I had put aside, have surfaced, and through them excitement has opened its eyes to the light of what I could be. So here we go. I’m still in the waiting period. Tracy said it’s where I should be and “God is never late”. Open the doors and show me how to walk through them. Show me how to set myself up during this time for everything you would want me to be. Help me to seek Your heart in every decision I make. Let’s do this Your way. It is the best way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April 21, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Today has been my hardest day in awhile. I woke up to a message from a jeweler basically saying my ring was worth nothing and could not be appraised because of its poor quality. Do you know what that feels like? It feels like a slap in the face. I’ve tried my hardest through all of this not to be mad, not to be resentful, to be more grateful than hurt, but today? Today that was impossible for me to accomplish alone. Tears flowed freely as soon as I got off the phone. Then the next blow. There is no one who buys back wedding dresses here. Not even for 100 bucks. Nothing. My dress, my beautiful dress that I looked so hard for, is also worth nothing. And the final blow. School. I got accepted, but have to work for a year before they can put me in the advanced program. So now I can move, and I’m accepted, but I don’t know how much I’ll have to repeat, and I don’t have a job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been crying since I woke up this morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But do you want to know when the hardest tears came? I cried the hardest when a song randomly played on iTunes. I had picked Razor initially for its calming affect. I got down on my knees with Razor playing in the background and knelt at the foot of my bed in desperate prayer. I started to pray for help, for direction, for clarity. The song that played next was what made my stop and just sob. “Peace” by Jennifer Knapp – &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is my Light and my Salvation whom have I to fearIn His secret place I’ll hide and pray that I might hear a simple wordO, how I would have despaired if You had not come found me thereI can lean against You throne and find my Peace&lt;br /&gt;And when my enemies draw near I pray that they will find that I’m protected and secureAll tempests He will bind with a mighty wordO, how I would have despaired if You had not come found me thereI can lean against You throne and find my Peace He is my Light and my Salvation whom have I to fear?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was as if I could feel God surround me, hold me up, tell me there is a bigger picture, there are greater things to hope for, and He is it. He is the healer, He is the leader, and all I simply must do in these dark hours is rest in His sovereignty. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to pick as a job, a place to live, if I should go back to school, I have no clue. But that’s not where my concern should lie. My concern lies in seeking His heart and seeking the decisions and options that come out of that. So that’s what I whispered. “Wherever you can use me, put me there. Show me where you want me, lead me there.” The next song that played on my player right after “Peace” completely embodied that. “Take Me Away” by Lifehouse – &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time what I want is You. There is no one else who can take Your place This time you burn me with your eyes, You see past all the lies You take it all away I've seen it all and it's never enough, it keeps leaving me needing You I try to make my way to You but still I feel so lost&lt;br /&gt;Don't give up on me yet, Don't forget who I am I know I'm not there yet but don't let me stay here alone I've seen it all and it's never enough, it keeps leaving me needing YouTake me away, take me away I've got nothing left to say, just take me away &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day wasn’t a coincidence. These hurts didn’t happen for nothing. Gold through the fire. Painful, but necessary. In closing I’ll add this. I went to iTunes to play these songs again. They were not in sequence on the player. They randomly played in that order. Randomly in the earthly sense I should say. He’s speaking. Maybe not in an audible voice, but He is there ever still. Are you listening?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;May 12, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Everlong is on repeat. This will not be cohesive I can tell already. Road trips always inspire. Something, I’m not sure what, maybe just more road trips. But I always come home inspired. I feel ancy in my own skin right now. Ancy isn’t a word. I feel like the cliff is fastly approaching and it’s almost my time to jump. Fastly isn’t a word either. The Barbarian Way. Read it. It has my mind crushing itself with thoughts and revelations to the point of physical throbbing. My whole body seems to be pulsating louder than normal, a picture of my heart asking itself questions out loud. Is this the way it should be done, or is this simply the way you’ve always done it. Are these thoughts my own or has my mind finally begun to lending itself to a Higher way of thinking.&lt;br /&gt;Religion can be one of the surest places to keep us from God. When our faith becomes refined, it is no longer dangerous to the dark kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Domesticated Christians are far too willing to abdicate the battle for the soul of the world. Civility focuses our energy on all the wrong places. We spend our lives emphasizing our personal development and spiritual well-being. We build churches that become nothing more than hiding places for the faithful while pretending our actions are for the good of the world.&lt;br /&gt;In contrast Jesus calls us to a different way… We cannot limit our sights to what is flesh and blood. We should know better than that. To see from a kingdom perspective is to know that there is a conflict of invisible kingdoms and that people’s lives are forever changed by what happens in the unseen. We are called to be warriors of light in dark places.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Two thousand years ago God started a revolt against the religion He started. So don’t ever put it past God to cause a groundswell movement against churches and Christian institutions that bear His name.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who can picture Jesus as the great Advocate of tradition is doing some serious doctoring of biblical history. Jesus was anything but the poster child for status quo.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who chooses the barbarian way will learn quickly that love and sacrifice cannot be separated. This is perhaps why so many of us who know love fear love. We know that love is not the absence of pain. If anything, love is the promise of pain. No one has loved more deeply than God. Has anyone ever been more betrayed? God would not know suffering if He did not know love. But because He is Love, He chose to suffer on our behalf. Without love there is no glory in suffering.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;If we are to be like Him, we must always risk for love.&lt;br /&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;There’s a world that desperately needs God, a world filled with loneliness, hopelessness, and fear. We have somehow become deaf to a cry that reaches heaven coming form the souls of men. But God hears.&lt;br /&gt;- Excerpts from The Barbarian Way by Erwin McManus &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;song of choice:Everlong (acoustic), Foo Fighters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 21, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the owner of a dichotomous heart. I walk myself willingly to places I wouldn’t want you to follow. I give in faster than I can think. I have goals and dreams to affect, touch, and change the world. Yet I am the most self-centered person you’ll ever meet. I am the constant reminder to myself of the reason to believe in something bigger than the messes I create.&lt;br /&gt;The Reason.&lt;br /&gt;It is so easy to forget. It is so easy to destroy myself from the inside out with thoughts of self preservation, religion, and the need to impress. Destroy. Destroy because when in survival mode, I miss the point.&lt;br /&gt;The Point.&lt;br /&gt;Amazing grace, how SWEET the sound. That saves a wretch like me. I’m the type of girl who wants to capitalize WRETCH and skim quickly over SAVES. Take the “Body” and the “Blood”, walk out the door, and forget because forgetting is so much easier. I am that type of girl. The type who needs you to change me.&lt;br /&gt;Change me.&lt;br /&gt;My heart screams so loudly these days. I haven’t stopped screwing things up. I haven’t stopped giving in to my way. But I was blind and now I see. Grace (noun): gift of God to humankind; the infinite love, mercy, favor, and goodwill shown to humankind by God; the condition of being free of sin, e.g. through repentance to God.&lt;br /&gt;Grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;song of choice: Amazing Because It Is, The Almost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 31, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a battle waging war on this heart&lt;br /&gt;Tearing my thoughts into tear drops&lt;br /&gt;Fear and courage collide on a stage&lt;br /&gt;As empty seats sit calling out profanities&lt;br /&gt;A new day, a God filled hole&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;A cuss word and a dial tone&lt;br /&gt;Try your best, change the world&lt;br /&gt;Or&lt;br /&gt;Pride, beer, and hormones.&lt;br /&gt;So where does this leave me.&lt;br /&gt;What does it look like&lt;br /&gt;To struggle through and win.&lt;br /&gt;How do I get my mind off baby steps&lt;br /&gt;And on to bigger dreams.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a radical&lt;br /&gt;Still I keep myself trapped down.&lt;br /&gt;Times one, times two, times infinity.&lt;br /&gt;And so I sit here broken.&lt;br /&gt;Fully aware of my short comings&lt;br /&gt;Intensely aware of this wrangling heart&lt;br /&gt;Acutely aware of Your divinity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 15, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s June 15, 2008. Today is the day I was supposed to get married. I thought I would have so much to say on this day. I thought I would be heartbroken and hurting all over again. Surprisingly I only have one real thought/emotion running through me today.&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful.&lt;br /&gt;This last week has been one of the best weeks of my life, all thanks to hundreds of jr. highers and a group of leaders that I am so incredibly blessed to have encountered. If I had been on the same path in my life that I was 4 months ago, nothing that I experienced or was able to be a part of would have come into fruition.&lt;br /&gt;Everything would be different. I would have missed out.&lt;br /&gt;This last week I was able to be used as a tool to speak to girl’s hearts. Girl’s who were just like me. Girl’s who were able to spill their hearts out and ask hard questions and learn to challenge themselves and who chose not to settle. Girl’s who told me they want to experience the real God.&lt;br /&gt;If for that reason alone my heart had to break, then I tell you now, it was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;All of the pain, heartache, change, tears…they were worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing. To have realized that I could have been finishing wedding plans instead of being a part of these girl’s lives, instead of having the other leaders minister to my heart in the crazy amazing ways they did, instead of watching God use me in His bigger picture like I was able to this week….it broke me. Hard.&lt;br /&gt;The very first song we sang in church today had the lyric of turning mourning into praise; the sermon was on advancing the kingdom and the trials we may face through that, but above all clinging to God and His sovereignty. The service was finished with a song that left me literally sobbing, tears flowing down my cheeks, only able to lift my hands in praise to an Almighty God who I KNOW is holding this heart in His hands.&lt;br /&gt;And now here I sit. So, incredibly, thankful.&lt;br /&gt;This story has just started. This life has just begun to change. This heart has only just begun to understand the greatness of the amazing God I serve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 25, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met her today at the doctor's office I work at. She was there for physical problems, but told me quite plainly it was all related to her depression. A spot opened in my heart for her instantly. She said she had been needing treatment but it had been a long time coming due to so many things, our own office's fault included. I apologized to her. I told her it shouldn't be that hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thanked me for being so nice and for actually listening to her. I told her I needed to take her blood pressure and pulse. She gave me an arm that was covered with so many scars in every different direction. There were too many to count. The other arm was exactly the same. I looked at her face sheet, she was 59.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I headed back to my desk to let the doctor know the patient was ready. On my cork board was the Anberlin To Write Love On Her Arms card with the original story. I had told so many people about TWLOHA simply by them asking what the picture was for. Today I took it down. I knew it was no longer mine to keep. When the doctor was finished she asked me to go in and give the needed prescriptions and phone numbers to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came in and explained everything that needed explaining. I then told her that the last thing I wanted to give her was personal. I told her I could relate to her pain. I told her that was I was going to give her was something that helped me and something that I was very passionate about. I handed her the card. She said out loud, "To Write Love On Her Arms," and then looked up at me and stuck out her bare and so badly scared arms. I simply said, "I know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She read aloud from the back of the card, "Stop the Bleeding, Rescue is possible. I suppose you have to believe in the rescue, don't you..." I told her, yes you do, and that is why we are here. To help. To listen. To treat. She said it meant so much. She read the story. She said she would go to the website. Her name is now written in prayer on my heart. Thank God for using TWLOHA to set me up with a tool to reach a heart. She was worth the step outside the comfort zone. We all are worth that step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 6, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the review of my heart I have to sit here and say I am incredibly happy. Things have grown and changed and flourished over the last five months. I’m still looking for that next step, but I am also extremely active right where I’m at. And I suppose that is kind of the point, now isn’t it.&lt;br /&gt;The love of my family and friends over this time has been outstanding. And outstanding doesn’t really even begin to cover it. I owe them so incredibly much, I can only hope to return the favor to each individually in the span on this life time.&lt;br /&gt;There are still changes waiting to happen, ones I was not expecting. Like staying in Lincoln first off. But it has become blatantly obvious that here is where I am supposed to be, at least for right now. Someone told me once that I should be thankful for this time because now I can experience my home town in a whole new way than ever before. I can make it my own, make it new. And I am thankful.&lt;br /&gt;I have painted, written, and even played my music live since being home. That hasn’t happened in quite a while and that is something I’m very excited about.&lt;br /&gt;This heart has taken on the shape of healing.&lt;br /&gt;Don’t get me wrong, I still have so much more I want to accomplish and so much more I need to do. I suppose I always will. Which is why right now in this moment, I am a happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;song of choice:Strawberry Swing, Coldplay&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-3114883331247637149?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/3114883331247637149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/recap-kind-of-afternoon.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3114883331247637149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/3114883331247637149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/07/recap-kind-of-afternoon.html' title='a recap kind of afternoon'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SHEZootSHgI/AAAAAAAAACs/HYhx8N3dZxo/s72-c/5-26+065-2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7474452252028161759</id><published>2008-06-29T22:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T22:31:53.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a big fan of this thing called life.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGhToPkLCSI/AAAAAAAAACk/NQHxeM8L1uA/s1600-h/GordonCherryBlossom595.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217512119146842402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGhToPkLCSI/AAAAAAAAACk/NQHxeM8L1uA/s200/GordonCherryBlossom595.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is one of those days where I'm really not sure where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He emailed me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a start for you. And it punched to the chest like I always knew it would, but I didn't fall down. I'm still breathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a start for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went about my business like I wanted to. I didn't spaz out or cry. I let a few friends know, simply for support in saying what I was doing was the right thing. And I carried on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a big fan of this thing called life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a Work that is stirring and creating and changing, and I am so happy to be along for the ride. A ride that is moving forward not backward. Just like my car last night. "This is not a shallow conversation car." And that's right. It's not. I'm not. Let's get to the point and let's get going for there is really so much to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To watch yourself be used as a piece of a bigger picture is something great and unexchangeable and intangible that I hope I get to experience over and over again. To be given a chance to understand there is so much more to this than me has quite simply changed my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I suppose that's why I wasn't left reeling today when he came out of no where. I suppose that's why I'm excited for tomorrow and the day after and the day after. I'm especially excited that the only Hand I can hold right now is not human, and yet so is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying the twists and wrenches and bursts of color and love that are pouring forth out of a new understanding of what I am all about. I am beautiful. I am changed. There is more to me than you. There is more to You than me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-7474452252028161759?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7474452252028161759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-big-fan-of-this-thing-called-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7474452252028161759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7474452252028161759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-big-fan-of-this-thing-called-life.html' title='I&apos;m a big fan of this thing called life.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGhToPkLCSI/AAAAAAAAACk/NQHxeM8L1uA/s72-c/GordonCherryBlossom595.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7826140142015599360</id><published>2008-06-28T00:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T00:52:56.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the god of wine comes crashing through the headlights of a car.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGXRbTd1bXI/AAAAAAAAACc/-eweiaOyd4A/s1600-h/glamourous.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216806010390670706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGXRbTd1bXI/AAAAAAAAACc/-eweiaOyd4A/s200/glamourous.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;where do we begin to get clean again &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the colors that were mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the hope that was mine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and now that time has moved in and through me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the sweat drips down my back as i wait for a glance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a hint of notice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and then suddenly i realize it's gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i am happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the smile is there for me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;because i enjoy the inside of this laughter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i can't keep it all together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i know i can't keep it all together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;holds a truth i can't erase&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;every glamorous sunrise throws the planets out of line&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a star sign out of whack&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a fraudulent zodiac&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;search for these lyrics&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it brings your name with a punch to the chest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;falling in with a heart face first&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the smoke rings out the window as the stars swim past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;these eyes hum a lullaby to the rest of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to the best of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and i drift&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;away.&lt;/div&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/7254525977807319723-7826140142015599360?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7826140142015599360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/god-of-wine-comes-crashing-through.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7826140142015599360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7826140142015599360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/god-of-wine-comes-crashing-through.html' title='the god of wine comes crashing through the headlights of a car.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGXRbTd1bXI/AAAAAAAAACc/-eweiaOyd4A/s72-c/glamourous.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-360544727289793841</id><published>2008-06-27T07:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T07:31:11.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'>make poverty history:tell world leaders to act</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGTdUuzJd1I/AAAAAAAAACE/AJSG0dIWMh0/s1600-h/whatyoucando_title.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216537616631560018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGTdUuzJd1I/AAAAAAAAACE/AJSG0dIWMh0/s200/whatyoucando_title.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;From one.org:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just signed a petition asking the G8 take urgent action against extreme poverty, and I'm hoping that you'll join me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sign the petition now at: &lt;a href="http://www.one.org/2008g8"&gt;http://www.one.org/2008g8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been a lot of progress against extreme poverty in recent years, but, as recent headlines about the global food crisis will tell you, there is still much to be done.&lt;br /&gt;When we unite with one voice and call upon our leaders to take action, we can and will solve these problems. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;from oxfamamerica.org:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier this month, Oxfam and other global poverty groups met with Japanese Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda. At this meeting, we handed him a global petition with over 575,000 signatures calling on world leaders to take strong action against climate change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we delivered the initial petition to Prime Minister Fukuda, we want to grow the petition to ONE MILLION concerned citizens worldwide before the leaders of the eight richest countries (the G8) meet in early July.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our growing petition has the power to put climate change and poverty at the center of the debate at the G8 Summit. The summit coincides with the famous Japanese Tanabata festival, where people tie written wishes to bamboo trees. We’ll present the petition as our fervent wish: that the G8 leaders commit to ending global poverty and fighting climate change. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send this petition at &lt;a href="http://act.oxfamamerica.org/campaign/2008_g8"&gt;http://act.oxfamamerica.org/campaign/2008_g8&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;The world can't wait for urgent action on climate change, and it is your responsibility to take the lead. We urge you to set targets to cut greenhouse gases by 2020, in line with what scientists say is needed to avert a climate catastrophe. Rich countries must help developing countries adapt and embrace a clean-energy future, and all must do their fair share to reduce emissions in time. Our common humanity demands nothing less.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-360544727289793841?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/360544727289793841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/make-poverty-historytell-world-leaders.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/360544727289793841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/360544727289793841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/make-poverty-historytell-world-leaders.html' title='make poverty history:tell world leaders to act'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGTdUuzJd1I/AAAAAAAAACE/AJSG0dIWMh0/s72-c/whatyoucando_title.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-6661443488637970320</id><published>2008-06-26T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T21:51:30.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>breathe in and let everything out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGRVXI09KsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/nfAThYmSIx4/s1600-h/mws-breathe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216388124396825282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGRVXI09KsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/nfAThYmSIx4/s200/mws-breathe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's time for healing, time to move on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's time to fix what's been broken too long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time to make right what has been wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's time to find my way to where I belong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;There's a wave that's crashing over me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;And all I can do is surrender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Whatever You're doing inside of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It's hard to surrender to what I can't see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;but I'm giving in to something Heavenly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time for a milestone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time to begin again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Reevaluate who I really am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Am I doing everything to follow Your will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Or just climbing aimlessly over these hills&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;So show me what it is You want from me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;I give everything I surrender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time to face up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Clean this old house&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time to breathe in and let everything out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;That I've wanted to say for so many years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time to release all my held back tears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Whatever You're doing inside of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It feels like chaos but I believe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;You're up to something bigger than me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Larger than life something Heavenly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Whatever You're doing inside of me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;It feels like chaos but now I can see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is something bigger than me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Larger than life something Heavenly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;Time to breathe in and let everything out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-sanctus real&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&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/7254525977807319723-6661443488637970320?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/6661443488637970320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/breathe-in-and-let-everything-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6661443488637970320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/6661443488637970320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/breathe-in-and-let-everything-out.html' title='breathe in and let everything out'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGRVXI09KsI/AAAAAAAAAB8/nfAThYmSIx4/s72-c/mws-breathe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7254525977807319723.post-7923450644159030652</id><published>2008-06-25T18:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T18:31:12.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a start's a start.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLU-STmZYI/AAAAAAAAABY/7_gzBCElvVs/s1600-h/black_and_white.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215965484979479938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLU-STmZYI/AAAAAAAAABY/7_gzBCElvVs/s200/black_and_white.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;a friend encouraged me to write bigger than i had before. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;to start something. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;something that would draw the masses to my thoughts. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;i don't know about all of that. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;but here i am.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;happy start day, blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLS95sv5iI/AAAAAAAAABI/uFv2zOJ_YMc/s1600-h/Picture+852.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7254525977807319723-7923450644159030652?l=novocainnotes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/feeds/7923450644159030652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/starts-start.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7923450644159030652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7254525977807319723/posts/default/7923450644159030652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://novocainnotes.blogspot.com/2008/06/starts-start.html' title='a start&apos;s a start.'/><author><name>b.sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06497821557649501083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLVkBqhchI/AAAAAAAAABk/Jso8VsWtfs0/S220/feet.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-AQWEUlbg4I/SGLU-STmZYI/AAAAAAAAABY/7_gzBCElvVs/s72-c/black_and_white.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
