tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80768749647167330332024-03-06T00:08:11.024-06:00. H O M E S I C K ... for places I've never been ..Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-84105587038540652852013-12-30T00:44:00.003-06:002013-12-30T20:42:31.766-06:00The Boring Wife.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i>Dearest bloggers (and facebook posters),</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br />It has been brought to my attention (by no less than 5 articles I saw on my newsfeed in the last week) that by getting married at 24, I missed out on:<br /><br />1. Traveling the world <i>(like Costa Rica, Uganda, and Haiti)</i><br />2. Going out with friends<br />3. Finding out who I am <br />4. Dating people<br />5. Having a great job I loved<i> (like working for TED or getting to spend time mentoring teen girls)</i><br />6. Going on road trips <br />7. Binge-watching a guilty pleasure TV show<br />8. Spontaneously moving to a new place<br />9. Getting into good shape for myself and no-one else<br />10. Diving headfirst into the art of fine coffee <i>(Guess I'm throwing out my books on espresso, huh?)</i><br />11. Starting my own business <i>(Again, guess I'm throwing out those espresso books)</i><br />12. Adopting a pet and loving it whole-heartedly<br />13. Eating an entire jar of nutella or ice-cream in one sitting<br />14. Getting a college degree <br />14. Having any fun whatsoever.<br /><br />Writers: I get it. There are plenty of amazing things you can do while you're single. There are also plenty of amazing things that can still be done when you're married. Instead of throwing us under the bus as lame, unadventurous, or, in the case of one article, flat out saying that most young marrieds don't have higher education or career goals, can we just agree that we chose different paths? I could have pointed out the road trips I've taken, the ice-cream eating sessions, and the binge-watching my hubby and I do together and apart. I could post photos of my sweet pup, tell stories of hilarious bad dates before Travis, and talk of the nights out with friends I'm *still* able to enjoy. However, that might make this a bit too long. I found out who I was, and am still learning that alongside my husband. And I know I'm not the only young 20-something who is doing the same.<br /><br />I don't think you're any less exciting or "full" because you aren't married. I don't think my friends with kids have lost their spunk. I think we're all at our own stages in life. LOVE the stage you're in. Support others who are in it. Support others who aren't. Revel in all it's glory because that's where you're at. But please respect that there are plenty of us living a life just as full and exciting as yours- some married, some not. Please recognize the negative stereotypes on display in writing articles about how we are all going to get "knocked up and fat soon", or how we got married because we needed a security blanket. I'm proud to be a wife. I was proud to be a single. I was proud to be those things because I'm proud of who I am as a person.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">And so. With that. I present to you my own list.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>6<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span>THINGS YOU SHOULD DO IF YOU'RE UNDER 25/OVER 25/SINGLE/MARRIED/CHILDLESS/PARENT TO 20<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">/<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">ALIVE</span></span></b></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ibVthD5Tq4niRPv4NO4VCSwGGZamABruSCrah3lZZxBa3-Lb3PKIpLFoawxsCp4rJIx-HP4hXxahrEUJ4olfsyr3SCOJiLY6keEt8xyDHPcwY_432Q5B3zXV0u4gagYVrJ6gRrIM8inD/s1600/we%2527ll+be+free.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ibVthD5Tq4niRPv4NO4VCSwGGZamABruSCrah3lZZxBa3-Lb3PKIpLFoawxsCp4rJIx-HP4hXxahrEUJ4olfsyr3SCOJiLY6keEt8xyDHPcwY_432Q5B3zXV0u4gagYVrJ6gRrIM8inD/s400/we%2527ll+be+free.jpg" width="285" /></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b>1. Be kind to everyone you meet, even if you<br /> don't understand them or their lifestyle.</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><br />2. Go on dates. Strangers, Boyfriends,<br />Girlfriends, Spouses.</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><br />3. Love fiercely and plant your roots <br />in rich community.</b></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b> </b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><br />4. Speak truth into the souls of those <br />you love- remind them they are <br />beautiful, smart, creative, and a delight. </b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><br />5. Never lose your sense of adventure- whether that means jumping out of an airplane or taking walks alongside a river.</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />6. Make it a point to love your life, <br />whatever stage you're in. <br />Live it and enjoy it for all it's worth.</span></span></span></span></span></b></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span> </span></span></span></span></b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br />Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go bake a cake and eat it. Because life is short and cake sounds good at 10am.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i><br />Sincerely,<br />The Boring Wife</i></span></span></span></div>
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Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-74549259132561048872013-09-10T00:37:00.001-05:002013-09-10T00:37:17.014-05:00honesty comes through tears.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I sat down to start this, I have to admit I just typed in the first title that made sense. I'm not sure how you read it- but I meant "tears" as in crying. Then legitimately had to look up to make sure the word I wanted was spelled that way, because I kept reading it as the word for rips. Now I'm not sure which one my mind meant in the first place.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But I digress.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let's just get this out of the way, shall we? I'm a weeper. There. Said it. If you know me in person, you have probably seen me cry. It could be a proposal of a complete stranger, a card from a dear friend, a sad memory, a story of triumph or a Hallmark commercial. Happy, sad, overwhelmed, angry, tired tears-- I know them all, and my eyes seem to be incapable of holding them back. And somehow, in the midst of these tears, the Lord tends to reveal things in my heart. Unfortunately, those aren't always good things that I want brought to light. No, this isn't my heart being shown off as being burdened for the lost or something super spiritual and pure. It's more that when I'm sitting there weeping over something out of frustration or brokenness, it's so easy to see my idols:</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Comfort</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Glory</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Control</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Popularity</i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">These idols look SO beautiful in the dark. They shimmer and lure me in with their siren songs and metallic hues. Everyone knows I can't resist glitter. But suddenly, in the light, they are revealed for how hideous they truly are; how hideous they are in my heart. They glare at me and laugh at my shortcomings. I see them in the reflection of every single tear.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This week has been one of tears and tears. Everything seemed to rip at the seams, destroying the idols I trusted and held onto for dear life. I've felt angry, lost, hurt, confused, purposeless, and angry some more. Angry at God, at Travis, at myself, at anyone and everyone who stands in the way of what<i> I </i>want.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You see, a couple months ago, Travis and I began this journey of support raising. In a matter of days, the Lord swung open several doors for Travis to take a residency at The Austin Stone- a church we both respected and were (still are) excited to work alongside. They told us we had until September 1 to raise 80% of the funds- so we made our plans and lists of people we knew. We made awkward phone calls and wrote letters. And money started coming in! We got to 50% in a matter of weeks, and finally reached that glorious 80% just a few days after moving to Austin two weeks ago. We celebrated that 80% and the friends and family who had made it possible. We'd been practically sailing along, riding this boat of self-sufficiency, all the while flying a flag claiming "THE LORD PROVIDES!" See, it's easy to say "The Lord Provides," but still depend on your own
means. We had the support system; had people we knew and networks to
work through. Our Mighty God didn't really have to do that much work to keep the boat afloat. But this week, the bottom fell out.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tuesday was an HR and orientation day for Travis. I sent him off to work with a sleepy kiss and then went about my tedious day of sending out resumes for jobs that don't seem to be out there. At 5:00, I got a text from my hubby that I was completely unprepared for: "With taxes and fees, we aren't at 80%. We are at 51%" </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">No more info than that. Almost two painstaking hours later, when he was home, he turned on his computer to show me the errors in our budget- we were missing taxes, tithing, social security- and his computer crashed. Ka-put. Blue screen of death.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I just cried. We had exhausted our resources just to get to 80%, and here we are- barely halfway, AND in need of a new computer?? I mean, really. Is this some sort of massive joke<i>?</i></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> (Hint: It's not.)</i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm reminded of a sermon that Brandon Barker gave in my last week at the Village. He was talking about support raising for the Chicago church plant and how it had forced him to look at the sin behind the sin behind the sin.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I cried for hours because we are only halfway there after pulling all the strings we thought we had and that makes me so terrified.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My anxiety that we'll never make our support raising goal if they don't come from connections I already knew of reveals that I don't trust that God will provide for us.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My lack of trust that God will provide for us reveals that I don't believe He loves us in the way He says He does.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If God doesn't love us in the way scripture says He does, if He does not long to take care of His children as scripture says He does-- what kind of God is He in my heart? Not much of one.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Those tears and tears. I wanted this to be easy. I wanted this to be in our control. Tuesday night, I called my parents and couldn't even make it through the phone call. I felt powerless. Between the lack of jobs I'm qualified for and the blow about support raising, I was undone. And it would be a lie to say I'm better now.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Travis and I talked on Saturday about it all, and he reminded me that repentance of sin isn't merely saying "okay, I won't be anxious about this." Repentance of sin is honest worship. Praising the Lord for being enough and for being one who we cast that anxiety on. It's a worship that only comes from believing that He will provide- and I'm just not there yet. But at least I know I'm not there yet.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm probably committing some sort of blogosphere faux-pas by stealing from my own <a href="http://traviswhitehead.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">husband's blog.</a> But he's better at wording things than I am.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Does God answer prayers? Yes. But too often I fall into this trap that
if He answers my prayers then it’s going to be a comfortable thing. But
our God sits as a refiner’s fire, to mold us and shape us into the image
of Christ that we may come to know Him in fullness in glory. Every time
I pray one of these dangerous prayers — prayers where I ask God to
shape and mold me — He answers. And it hurts. Sometimes it hurts because
your ankle gets broken (that’s another story entirely), and sometimes
it hurts because you’ve just packed up your wife to move to a new city
where, unless He raises up supporters in a very short amount of time,
you’re going to be eating nothing but Ramen for a while. This isn’t
because He’s some 9-year-old boy frying ants with a microscope, but
because He purges sin from us like venom from a wound"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My tears this week are understandable on the surface level. Joblessness, hopelessness, a string of bad things or let downs- we understand these and we empathize with them. But they stem from a much more sinful place in my heart; a place of disbelief and reluctance. And if I'm honest with myself, with you, with God- until I let go and allow Him to purify my heart of them, I'll never know the freedom of worshiping a God who is a God and not a shadow of an idea.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">-janelle<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">----------------------------</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For more information on partnering with us, why we're in Austin in the first place, and what we hope to do after the program- check out <a href="http://www.traviswhitehead.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">traviswhitehead.wordpress.com</a> or email me and we'll be in touch.</span></i></span></span><br />
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Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-71845027705355196882013-06-10T16:08:00.002-05:002013-06-10T20:02:52.120-05:00An Open Letter to an Inspirational Leader<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></b></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Jason Russell,</b></i></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">I’m calling on you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000;"><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why?</b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><i>Because I need help getting to Fourth Estate</i>. We’ve never met, but you follow me on Instagram, and I stalk the
heck out of you and your adorable family. I have, however, met and formed solid
friendships with half of the people you know. How? Because I’ve been involved
in Invisible Children since the rough cut came out- Global Night Commute, “Big
Ideas,” the Rescue, state-wide events, Kony 2012, the whole shebang.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was just 17 when I learned about IC. I watched a video and my life as I knew
it was over. The impact it had on me would cause me to add a non-profit
management degree and I never looked back. Global Night Commute was my first
event, and not even the sprinklers coming on in the middle of the night could
convince us to leave. When I started college at OU in 2006, I immediately
joined our chapter of IC and helped coordinate events and screenings. In 2009, I
helped plan the OKC rescue, and jumped in the car with friends I had met an
hour before to drive to Little Rock to help their team get rescued (We may or
may not have called the local representatives at their homes…), and from there
we drove to Wichita for the next couple of days. To this day, I have a piece of
the rope that we held as we walked tied around my wrist as a reminder to pray
for peace. I have lobbied with my representatives- both local and nationally-
through events with Resolve and by attending Lobby Days: How it Ends. At lobby
days, I<i> literally</i> went toe-to-toe with Senator Inhofe for saying he loved
Africa, but not being on board with the legislation because it might take away
from *unused* military funding. <i>You see, I’m not afraid to do hard things or
risk someone not liking me, if it furthers justice in the end.</i> In 2010, I slept
outside for almost two weeks with the Coburn Say Yes campaign, leading teams
through OKC to get outside support, making daily phone calls, skipping classes
and birthdays (and showers), and you can bet that I rejoiced and laughed and
cried the moment we got the call saying he would allow the bill through. That
strange little group of us who came together those long days and nights became
an odd sort of family that can never be replaced. I’ve housed countless
roadies, made care packages, and learned how to make vegan meals so that they
feel at home. And once, at SXSW in 2010, I ended up working the Invisible Children merch table simply because no one else was there when I walked in. My husband and I had our first date in silence- using a pen and
paper to communicate- because he happened to ask me out on April 24<sup>th</sup>,
2011, and I refused to break my commitment to 25 hours of silence. When we got engaged a year later, he even included the 25 card as part of the proposal. I celebrated
the release of Kony 2012, defended IC whole-heartedly against the uninformed
and the relentless critics, and I cried with the IC family as the attacks on
you took its toll. We never gave up on you, and never gave up on our mission.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>We are a team.</i></b></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i> <span style="font-size: large;">We are a family.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">I joined in with strangers to clean up a park and
post flyers all around downtown Dallas. And the only reason I didn’t attend Move:DC
was because I was on my honeymoon. My closet is most likely around 60%
Invisible Children gear, and my heart is overflowing with the friendships I
have made with roadies, Ugandans, and other IC family.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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</span>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>None of this would have meant anything if there had not been thousands of others</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>that were standing up for the same thing.</b> </span></div>
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</span>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
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</span>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The interns and roadies who give up
semesters or years of their life to devote to ending this war inspire me to do
so much more. We will never do anything if we don’t do it together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, Jason</span></i></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">,</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I’m asking you to partner with me in this. I want
to change the world: but I need help doing it. I work for a small non-profit in
Dallas, and my husband works as a contractor until he finds a full time job
with a church or ministry. Most likely, it won’t be long before we transition to a
support-raised income. Needless to say, budget is tight. The summit would be so
helpful for me, I just can’t afford to go, and we are trying to ask our friends
for as little as possible, due to the potential upcoming change in income. I have sent
out emails and posted it on Facebook, but I am still about $500 short. <i>Would
you consider sponsoring me for $100, or getting together with a couple other
staff and supporting me for more?</i> It would be monumental in helping me pay for
the conference and the flight to LA!</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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</span>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, we’re getting to the end of this little ramble, but I want you to know why
this summit is so important to me. Jason, <i>my life changed</i> after watching the Rough
Cut. I never felt so much like I had a purpose as I did the minute I began
fighting for a life not my own. It has pushed me to join the non-profit world,
to start an anti-trafficking organization at OU, and to donate time and money
to other organizations that are in it to end suffering and promote justice for
all. And I want to join in, too. I’d like to start a non-profit coffee shop
that helps refugees find work, and partners with a resettlement program to help
provide counseling or fund education fees so they can provide for their
families in a sustainable way. The summit would really help me learn how to
develop effective programs, and it would give me a chance to pick up tips from
men and women I admire for their leadership in the global social sector. I can’t
miss such an incredible opportunity to grow and meet other young visionaries who
I may be able to stand with in this fight for life and peace and justice. </span></div>
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</span>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(And hey! Maybe you’ll even get a chance to meet me. You don’t want to miss
that chance.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></span>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;"><i>Jokes. I got ‘em for days.)</i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"></span><br />
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</span>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">So won’t you help me? <i>Will you be willing to partner with me for $100, $200, or
heck- all $500?</i> In a crazy world full of brokenness and suffering, we stand
together to
bring liberty to all- no matter the color of their skin, their place of birth,
or their religious background.<span style="background-color: white;"> “We are shaping human history<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white;">by closing the divide between</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">resources
and responsibility,</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">distance and
disinterest, awareness and action.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"> Help me continue to stand on the front
lines.</span></b></span></span></div>
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</span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><i><span style="font-size: large;">Get me to Fourth Estate</span><span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></i></span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.gofundme.com/janelle4E">www.gofundme.com/janelle4E</a></span></i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrLpUAdUJznwuJsQvSqaLwv8XuP0UUjAmSJYcYZb3cgJCNvYhL1ba0-CK0z6tjrFbMHaUVqHutb6CJgCES3Ef6znbybl1ci56WMnYmN9b7lb9z5aGRPUl_v8bhtVoJjrOeFPmwUkJ2CwR/s1600/blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrLpUAdUJznwuJsQvSqaLwv8XuP0UUjAmSJYcYZb3cgJCNvYhL1ba0-CK0z6tjrFbMHaUVqHutb6CJgCES3Ef6znbybl1ci56WMnYmN9b7lb9z5aGRPUl_v8bhtVoJjrOeFPmwUkJ2CwR/s640/blog2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-88291889030710728602012-03-07T18:13:00.000-06:002012-03-07T18:13:10.849-06:00The 20%<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Call it <i>fauxtivism</i> and call it <i>a fad</i>.<br />
Call us<i> bandwagoners</i> and call us <i>naive</i>.<br />
Tell us to <i>look at both sides of an issue</i> and tell us to <i>solve problems in our own country first.</i> <br />
</div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That's okay. I really do understand. </div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> <b>And honestly, you may be right about a lot of it. </b><br />
<br />
I'm willing to bet that 50% of the people posting about <a href="http://s3.amazonaws.com/kony2012/kony_5.html" target="_blank">Kony 2012</a> had either never heard or never cared about the 26 year central African conflict before. And 80% of them won't stay involved. It happens every year with every big event. <i>But my excitement is for the 20%:<br />
</i></div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>The </i><i>20%</i> who, like me, stayed hooked after watching the Rough Cut almost 7 years ago. <br />
<i>The 20%</i> who joined in after the Global Night Commute and Displace Me. <br />
<i>The 20%</i> who found their voice at The Rescue and took that voice to DC for lobby days. <br />
<i>The 20% </i>who have taken their role in Schools for Schools, fighting for better education for the future leaders of Uganda. <br />
<i>The 20%</i> for whom OKC is not just the city who stole the Sonics, but a turning point in their lives.<br />
<i>And the 20%</i> who will continue to fight for peace long after 2012 is over. <br />
<b><i>That is what we are about. </i></b><br />
<br />
Am I so much of an idealist to believe that Nicki Minaj and Kim Kardashian will be speakers for justice rallies ten years from now just because they tweeted about the Kony 2012 video? Not at all. But I do believe that there are some who will watch it from their tweets and become one of the 20%. And all of those 20%ers? Well add us all together and it equals a lot. <i>Hundreds</i>, if not <i>thousands</i> of youth and young adults who do their research. Who pay attention to non profit financial statements and the effectiveness of the programs they support. <br />
<br />
I have personally seen dozens who have changed career paths to promote justice for all, as <a href="http://www.invisiblechildren.com/" target="_blank">Invisible Children</a> was merely the open door, allowing them to see that there are things going on outside of suburbia that need to be addressed. I have seen former roadies and office personnel come off their time with IC hungry for more. Some continue with IC/<a href="http://www.theresolve.org/" target="_blank">Resolve</a>, others have gotten involved with non-profits dedicated to poverty and trafficking, both domestic and international. For me, being involved in invisible children helped me get past myself. It pushed me to get involved in community development projects and sex trafficking awareness programs. It made me add a non-profit management focus to my degree plan, along with some extra time in school. My heart is burdened for the broken, the neglected, the abused. And for over 6 Years, the primary avenue I have taken is through invisible children and resolve. I have still been involved in homeless ministry and my dream job would be working internationally with women pulled out of sex trafficking. But it all started with a 50 minute video when I was a senior in high school, made by three guys who had no idea what they were doing.<br />
<br />
So hear me out:<br />
Not all of us are just along for the ride and plan on jumping off as soon as we hit a stop sign or a bump in the road-- or as soon as Facebook and Twitter shut up about it. And yes, we do have problems here. Huge ones. Homelessness and disease, abuse and neglect. But I pass the reigns to you on that one. This is the biggest issue that has been laid on my life for the time being, so I ask you to go out and start something for the issue on yours. But please don't be upset that my campaign stays true to the burden of my heart. I will gladly help you fight for peace and justice and will support you in campaigns you may start, and I don't see them as conflicting just because one is international and one is domestic. We are all humans, no matter where we were born, and we all have lives that deserve protecting. </div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We all have a voice to use. Are you going to use yours to complain about me using mine? </div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> <b> Or will you stand up, and use yours to fight for freedom?</b> </div><div style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
This isn't the issue that pulls your heart and that's fine. </div><b style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: small;">But what is? And what are you going to do about it?</span></b><br style="color: #660000;" /><br style="color: #660000;" /><i style="color: #660000; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"You don't have to support #kony2012. But don't hinder the world,</span><br style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> especially the youth, from realizing the power of their voice." -Megan Duhon</span></span></i></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-85182164431099140622011-03-12T18:21:00.001-06:002011-03-12T18:22:42.581-06:00because a dream without action is simply that.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span data-jsid="text">"Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that all was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, <span class="text_exposed_hide">...</span><span class="text_exposed_show">for they may act their dream with open eyes, and make it possible.” - T. E. Lawrence</span></span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span data-jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">So, my <a href="http://taraji527.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-difference-day-makes.html">last post</a> was a bit nostalgic. And for good reason. The Hold-Out was a life-changing experience for me. So much so that my first tattoo was based off of it. (I promise, I'll blog that soon. I need to make a list of what I'm blogging next.)</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span data-jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">BUT I'm a firm believer in T.E. Lawrence's words up there. If all we do is dream while asleep, or reflect on sweet moments in the past, we will accomplish nothing. We will have beautiful visions of a world filled with peace and harmony... but when we open our eyes, the world is the same as it always has been: broken.</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span data-jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span data-jsid="text"><span class="text_exposed_show">So how do we take action?</span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
If you haven't heard, this semester, Invisible Children is focusing on their newest initiative: The Congo Tour. Get excited, friends. This is their biggest project yet. The goal is a rehabilitation center in the DRC for former child soldiers as well as.... wait for it...<br />
An EARLY WARNING RADIO TOWER NETWORK.<br />
<br />
Did you read that? No seriously. I'm not joking.<br />
Ladies and Gents, this a protection plan like nothing IC has done before. And I, for one, am ready to see it put into action.<br />
<br />
So make sure you make it out to a screening of Tony, the newest update video. If you're in my region (which covers some Central & East Texas/Central OK, I think), we are so lucky as to have Tony himself speaking after the film. Find a screening near you, sign up for TRI (if you aren't a member already), and lets build some radio towers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
All of that being said:<br />
<br />
As you know, IC is so good at putting together nation-wide events. And this year, it's huge. So huge... that even I'm going silent.<br />
<br />
On April 25, IC is asking everyone to go silent for 25 hours. "Speak out... without speaking." Each participant with also try to raise $25 to go toward the Congo initiative. <br />
4/25.<br />
$25.<br />
25 Hours.<br />
25 Years of War. <br />
25 Years too long.<br />
<br />
Sign up here: <a href="http://www.invisiblechildren.com/25" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.invisiblechildren.com/25</a><br />
You can order a sweet 25 Action Kit so that you'll be prepared for the event. And it gives you the opportunity to set up your very own fundraising page!<br />
Show it off to your friends, ask them to donate, leave the URL on slips of paper at the food court, whatever you have to do.<br />
<br />
And if you can't participate due to work or something, please donate to friends who are! <br />
<br />
You know... I'm participating... so you can always donate to me!<br />
<a href="http://bit.ly/e1wWpE" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/e1wWpE</a> I have no shame. But you're the one reading my blog. So surely you like me a little. I set a high goal of $500, but I believe that it is not impossible by any means. </span> </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So get to a screening (and bring tissues). Think about committing $25 a month with TRI. Sign up for the 25 event. Donate to someone who is.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Open your eyes. Dare to dream while awake. Dare to take action.</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><br />
</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-7586131163445003162011-03-09T23:39:00.005-06:002011-03-09T23:50:02.363-06:00What a difference a day makes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/190526_954019096017_9631977_47628072_4025981_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/190526_954019096017_9631977_47628072_4025981_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> One. Whole. Year. </span></span></span></b></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <br />
My gosh it seems like last week. I still have to remind myself that it wasn't "last semester" or "a couple months ago." It's been an entire year since the Hold Out ended and my life has been so blessed since then.<i> </i></span></span></span></b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">March 9, 2010 was full of laughter, screaming, tears, excitement, dancing, jumping, running, reflecting, bittersweet goodbyes, and the most incredible hugs I've ever known. I could give you a play by play of the day because I can recall almost every glance and every sweet moment of joy. But I'll spare you most of those details... because unless you were there, it would just seem like a bunch of jumbled emotion. And if you were there... you don't need my account of the chaos anyhow. </span></span></span></b></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">That being said, I would like to take this space to quote some good friends of mine regarding the experience:</span></span></span></b></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-weight: normal;">"</span></span><i style="font-weight: normal;">It is difficult to pinpoint the most humbling moment in the course of the 11 days, or rather, the instance of time in which I realized that with these people beside me, there was no chance of failure.</i><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">From the moment local community members began risking their livelihoods to provide us with shelter, showers, and food; to the scene of 50 people waking at six in morning outside in 30 degree weather, without a word of complaining; to the map that showed the distances traveled by all; to the nights shared in music and laughter; or to the final night, when nobody left, and we slept one more time in a row of sleeping bags on the concrete.</span></i><i style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</i></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;">That last night was the final confirmation that the people who had gathered under the shadow of the Chase skyscraper were a force to be reckoned with. The relentless cold, the hardness of the ground, the sacrifice of time had faded to the background as the sense of purpose and community trumped all concerns." - Kenneth Transier</i></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">“The holdout was more than just convincing Senator Coburn to say yes, it was when a lot of us woke up to how much we still had to learn. In Oklahoma, I watched the effects of a father telling his son he was proud of him for the first time, a deli worker spend his hard earned money on feeding the crazy young people outside the building, a hungry demonstrator give his lunch to the homeless man down the street, and the list goes on. I learned how powerful a community can be, how passion can carry you through the most frustrating times, and that I’ve gained the best friends I could ask for.” – Abby Freeman</span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-weight: normal;">"Remember that time when a group of total strangers came together and fought for something bigger than ourselves, and how we became family in just 11 days? </span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
Remember that time when we thought we were helping change the lives of others for the better, but in reality it was us who had been changed? </span><span class="text_exposed_hide" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span><span class="text_exposed_show"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Remember that time when we made the impossible possible just by pursing & fighting for justice, stubbornly persevering under trial, and loving the hell out of people? </span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
Remember how a small group of people with no political power or authority changed the heart of the most stubborn senator, and now a bill was signed into L-A-W? </span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
...Ya, me too."</span><br />
<br style="font-weight: normal;" /> <span style="font-weight: normal;">(And this is just the beginning)." - Jessica Walizer</span></span></span></i></span></h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/yW-hN2PdLFc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <i>-Mark Nehrenz</i></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Know that it was unbelievable. That time stood still for us as we ran and held on to each other amidst the tears of utter joy and disbelief. And then, it died down and we stood together once again as a family dedicated to peace. Knowing that this wasn't the end of our fight, but that this was a huge step. And that was breathtaking. I remember looking over and seeing Kenneth just laying on the concrete, staring up at the building, or at the sky, or perhaps just looking. It made me think of the distance we'd come; of the way we'd grown together; of the hundreds of people who supported us even if they couldn't be there; of the 24 years of war that <i>still raged on,</i> but that there was a small glimmer of hope for an end. </span></span></span></b></b><b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It was so humbling to look around and know that I was surrounded by some of the most insanely dedicated activists, but that our job was not even close to done. </span></span></span></b></b><br />
<b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> I slept under the stars in downtown Oklahoma City for one last time that night, and with the blanket of night came the heaviness of reality. Yes, we had gotten the hold lifted. And yes, we had become a family. And yes, that bill went on to be signed into law on May 24, 2010. But until the war is completely over, we have to continue to remember the lives lost by thousands of Central Africans. That this is not a game of "who can sleep out the longest" or "how many phone calls to a Senator's office can I make today?" This is real. This is life. So many families live in fear even still. We still have work to do.</span></span></span></b></b><i> </i><b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The Holdout represented the drive and love embedded in the hearts of young people across the nation by bringing together a small portion of those who have been involved in the peace efforts. And Kenneth's blog on Resolve today was a reminder that those 12 days outside also represent the actions taken to hold our government accountable for the human rights violations all across the world; that we will not sleep comfortably until they take a stand with us; that we will persevere through the roadblocks that try to knock us off the beaten path we have chosen.</span></span></span></b></b><b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></span></b></b></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><b><b><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">We will stand in solidarity. We will not back down. We will see this through to the end. And you better believe that you'll see 50 familiar faces rejoicing together when at last the peace comes.</span></span></span></b></b> </h6><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/26826_355613063068_512333068_3519486_1657507_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/26826_355613063068_512333068_3519486_1657507_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="text-align: center;">-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
</h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Someday, the light<br />
will shine like a sun<br />
through my skin<br />
& they will say,<br />
What have you done<br />
with your life?<br />
<br />
& though there are<br />
many moments i think<br />
i will remember,<br />
in the end,<br />
i will be proud to say,<br />
i was one of us."</span></b></h6><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I mention there was screaming and jumping? There was.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="messageBody"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yW-hN2PdLFc&feature=related" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><br />
</a></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"> </i></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="messageBody"><span class="text_exposed_show"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></span></span></h6></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-58635309379872272132011-02-02T17:13:00.000-06:002011-02-02T17:13:13.208-06:00when being at the top feels like the bottom.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll be real with you guys. All 5 of you who read this.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For the first time ever, I'm at the very top of my "healthy weight range" for my height/age. I've always tended to be around the middle of it-never really skinny, but never huge.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And now, even the thought of stepping on a scale again anytime soon makes me want to cry. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've been working out, trying to eat healthier, trying not to snack on crap I don't need. But nothing seems to help. And nothing seems to stick for long.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And, I know. I'm not<i> fat.</i> Whatever. I just don't feel good anymore. I'm to the point where I don't care how YOU think I look... but I feel gross. And no, I don't want to be 100 lbs. I don't have any expectations to ever look like an Urban Outfitters model or have legs like Abby Van Duker. But I want to feel good about myself again, and I can't seem to get there. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here's the deal: At the start of the summer, I was already bigger than where I wanted to be. But I've gained constantly since July. For a while, I didn't care. I've heard that happens a lot. People either stop eating or they eat all the time. I was clearly the latter. It's almost like I decided that since I lost huge part of my heart, I would make up for it in resees and ice cream. I became empty and needed something to fill me. And though I turned often to the Lord and to prayer, I turned just as often to food. Not surprisingly, junk food didn't fill me. But I start school again and things get even more stressful as I'm trying to finish my degree. Late nights working on my capstone turned into eating crap again. Busy days left me no energy to work out or to even do much.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So here I am. 6 and a half months later, almost 20 lbs over what I want to be, feeling like my efforts to lose weight have been futile, and that I'm losing myself behind it. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then there's the fact that eating healthy requires more money than I have. Which is none. I'm having a killer hard time finding a job, and so I'm sitting at home all day cleaning or sorting boxes and so what better time filler than snacking? And my house doesn't exactly keep the healthiest snacks around.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I really want to start weight watchers but, as mentioned before, I have no money. That would give me some form of accountability program. I need to see people who are sticking to a healthier lifestyle and who are seeing results. So, maybe I just need to let people know. I need people to hold me accountable. People who know me and aren't afraid to call it like it is. I'm putting my initial goal weight on my wall along with the weight I'm at now and I'm going to try to keep to a healthy meal plan. Not an atkins or south beach diet program that would never last- but scheduling workouts and choosing water over sodas and things like that. Steps towards losing weight and staying healthy. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Can you guys be praying for me? It seems so silly. I'm just at a point where I'm in a new place, with honestly no friends, and I'm just having trouble keeping order in my life. Plano is horribly lonely thus far and I want to be able to at least start regulating some part of it. So can you be praying that I find some accountability and enough motivation to stick with this. I haven't felt a lot of motivation for many things lately, so this may be harder than it should be. Haha.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So there it is. A bunch of heart jumble and how I'm dealing with moving. Which isn't too well. </span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There's a lot of changes I'm having to make, and adjusting is weirder than I expected it. This is just the thing that's kind of pushing me over the edge. Watching myself gain weight and not knowing how to even start to get my life back.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oy.</span></div><br />
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</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-80185675459583616452011-01-25T22:18:00.004-06:002011-01-25T22:26:19.865-06:00the story of His glory.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<br />
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<blockquote style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">See, you come to the end of Malachi, and we see a mighty indictment against the people of Israel. This is to be the story of His glory?? It seems as though the people He placed on earth to display His kingdom have surely failed! Surely, His plan has failed, for His people have RUINED His name.<br />
<br />
For 400 years we wait. After 400 years of silence, a whisper laughs across the expanse of the heavens!<i><br />
</i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>"A King will be born."</i></span></div></div></blockquote><br />
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</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-50058130591786079152011-01-23T00:43:00.002-06:002011-01-23T01:21:27.463-06:00untitled.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Half of the time, I find myself asking a simple question.</span></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"Everything changed the day she figured out there was exactly enough time</i></span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">for the important things in her life."</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i> </i></div><i><br />
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<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: xx-small;">"Janelle. What are you doing?"</span></div></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-67520708951932045262011-01-21T02:06:00.001-06:002011-01-21T02:08:41.331-06:00reminding me it's alright to dream.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/18770570" width="400"></iframe><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://vimeo.com/18770570">Wore It Deep (The Tree Ring)</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/destindaniel">Destin Cretton</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</span></div><br />
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<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Thanks, Invisible Children, for posting this.</span><i><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-small;">(Otter are sometimes called the clowns of the wilds.) </span></div></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-61866202015960489232011-01-09T03:00:00.004-06:002011-01-09T03:17:58.426-06:00Beats. Books. Blogs.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Battlestar Galactica! </b></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCHfnsrTn1aGTqwSmgKwZj94WCMUjrt_F-DqMzIQdiJbwc7HSA2pN4wmtq8ShRoqMxgLwjP08sbxfmcECrwKT2qCYzEULizxd2gA9v82qiBFzR2FPvtXbkGb37-8m3MzVG2iZO-FKRkuy3/s1600/Bears-Beets-Battlestar-Galactica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCHfnsrTn1aGTqwSmgKwZj94WCMUjrt_F-DqMzIQdiJbwc7HSA2pN4wmtq8ShRoqMxgLwjP08sbxfmcECrwKT2qCYzEULizxd2gA9v82qiBFzR2FPvtXbkGb37-8m3MzVG2iZO-FKRkuy3/s1600/Bears-Beets-Battlestar-Galactica.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images2.memegenerator.net/ImageMacro/4417991/Bears-Beats-Battlestar-Galactica.jpg?imageSize=Medium&generatorName=courage-dwight" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kr9op03El11qzbtglo1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So, this was not what I was planning on writing when I got on here, but I don't have the energy to be creative. My head hurts, I'm tired, and I hate packing. But here's the deal:</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I want suggestions on new music, new books, and new blogs to read. I had a conversation with a friend over coffee and we agreed to exchange good stuff we learned of. So I guess the first step of that is actually finding those good things we both are seeking.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That's where you come in- unless "you" means "Lauren Hunter" because... well... I can't give you new music if you gave it to me, eh? And it's very possible that LHunt is the only person who reads this blogs. Who knows.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What inspires you? You turn on<i> that song</i>, read <i>this book</i>, get updates from <i>such and such blog</i>, and you just feel motivated, creative, ready. I want to hear those. So, pull up your bookmarked blogosphere pages or check out that well-worn bookcase and throw some suggestions my way.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9_0tiuvDSGlvPvDVO55W9GkNlQGVi6KQ_Yq2RaES9Kgnh1aeUXPA0el6q8nTRHLIx0EmvKtED62aUjyLIWm7OvRbhAf0F9E-p3tQAeYJrQ2SWjtlcQpcEMBPRPWdO_Un7-1WXDvpaOnK/s1600/oldbooks2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9_0tiuvDSGlvPvDVO55W9GkNlQGVi6KQ_Yq2RaES9Kgnh1aeUXPA0el6q8nTRHLIx0EmvKtED62aUjyLIWm7OvRbhAf0F9E-p3tQAeYJrQ2SWjtlcQpcEMBPRPWdO_Un7-1WXDvpaOnK/s200/oldbooks2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="http://library.jhu.edu/images/rsc/subjectguides/oldbooks2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'd love you forever.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>...Not that I don't anyway.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">(Please forgive my blogging tonight. I have a migraine and may not make much sense.)</span>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-65420885052875257322011-01-03T01:49:00.001-06:002011-01-09T03:00:23.454-06:00I planned<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">on blogging today.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But that didn't happen.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hopefully tomorrow.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Until next time,</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">j.</span></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-63562998375575784852010-12-08T00:27:00.000-06:002010-12-08T03:27:55.047-06:00glory glory glory.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are days when all I can do is <b>smile, laugh, dance</b>.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Today was one of those days. <br />
<i>(Even while sitting still for an hour and a half in Voters and Campaign Strategies)</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm so thankful for the Lord's blessings, for the friends and family He has given me. For much-needed conversation and for coffee with friends.... and, well, for coffee. For blue dresses and yellow slips of paper. For Nehemiah's lessons and a church body willing to delve into the hardest of truths. For beautiful music and the anticipation of snow.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I know that not every day can be today, so I want to mark it down.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Janelle, remember His blessings.</span>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-54482545494784222842010-11-29T03:28:00.003-06:002010-11-29T03:42:26.961-06:00Anger vs. Peace.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XWorm6QTEA4wwL1MazBLHMBHhLRvgCemTVbQjx3qc7y7EcIwtZ85bZGZ4Y65f-WPakmBmQkLQOOXxmJ2tnEI6ArRccSf55rsMjeqOaFiECxWTX3PBnOJlZGgT8ojV_KMo_ejK-hei9Di/s1600/tumblr_lbwu4cTDzG1qzsb00o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XWorm6QTEA4wwL1MazBLHMBHhLRvgCemTVbQjx3qc7y7EcIwtZ85bZGZ4Y65f-WPakmBmQkLQOOXxmJ2tnEI6ArRccSf55rsMjeqOaFiECxWTX3PBnOJlZGgT8ojV_KMo_ejK-hei9Di/s1600/tumblr_lbwu4cTDzG1qzsb00o1_500.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have never needed this more than I do right now.</span></b></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-58408433969423028922010-11-24T00:47:00.001-06:002011-06-20T00:22:29.454-05:00on celebrating birthdays.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>They left me </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>with your shadow, </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>saying things like </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>"Life is not fair." </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>& I believed them </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>for a long time. </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>But today, </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>I remembered </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>the way you laughed </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>& the heat </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>of your hand </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>in mine </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>& I knew that </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>life is more fair </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>than we can </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>ever imagine </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>if </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>we are there to live it.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Today is your birthday and I miss you. As usual. But today is also a glorious reminder of the work you did here, what brought our little family together. Obama is releasing his strategy to stop LRA violence and rebuild the communities in Northern Uganda today, Chris. You'd be so excited :) We all worked together and the day is finally here. Wish you could be here with me to celebrate. I'll keep an extra close eye out for it today and we won't back down if it's not up to par. Loving you always and loving the family we all became a part of. We're pushing on, we're celebrating your life, your legacy.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Birthday, my dear friend. Love you.</span></div></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-69173174172370020422010-11-14T23:38:00.000-06:002010-11-14T23:39:17.383-06:00Failure. Brokenness. Forgiveness. Repeat.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I would say that I fail at 10 out of 10 things that I do. There is not a single thing in my life that I have been great at and not messed up most of the time. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Today, I have broken down 4 or 5 times already and I'm sure I'm not done. And it's not that there has been nothing good that has happened. Work was fine and I can't describe how much I love those kids. Walmart rides with the internationals was a blast, as per usual. Got to wear my favourite coat for the first time this season. The weather is cold, but at least it's been sunny. But still, things hurt me more than usual, bitterness is swelling in my heart even as I type this, and I literally kicked my textbook across the room in frustration. As if you needed proof that I'm a sinful being, there you go. Total depravity of man right there. I get so angry at the amount of things that I can't do and the list piles up and up. Schoolwork, mobilization, prayer, consistency in my walk with the Lord, consistency in my friendships. I'll spare you the rest. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">So it is with humility and disappointment in myself that I sit here and say (type?) that I am a failure.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Always have been, always will be.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">It's a wonder that the Lord still accepts me into His arms and allows me to be a part of the work He is doing.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Really. I'm always in shock that He looks at me, and my track record, and <i>still</i> says, "Oh, hey, Janelle. I'm going to let you be a part of my mission in reaching the nations. Let me bless you with sweet time with Harun, Ilya, Victor & Maria." I'm still in awe that He has given me guidance from a sweet woman like Kelsey as I prepare to graduate in a month and a half. Though we've met together once and we only have a short time, and she doesn't think of herself as a good mentor, I'm already aware of the ways she will challenge me to meet with the Lord and apply His word to my life. I'm amazed consistently by how he takes every broken piece of me and uses it in one way or another.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I fail, and tonight I'm feeling it almost more than ever- and I'm humbly asking for prayer from those of you who read this. But somehow, I know that though I am frail and my humanity is so blaringly obvious at times like these, that God is good. He is sovereign. He made me this way for a reason and He is sanctifying me daily, and will use me as I grow in Him.</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-33379401433379210002010-11-11T14:18:00.000-06:002010-11-11T14:18:44.897-06:00Movers and Shakers.<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Friends, Romans, Countrymen. Lend me your ear:<br />
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I mean, you may not remember this or anything... but on May 24th, this little bill called the LRA Disarmament and Northern Uganda Recovery Act got signed into LAW. It was just a tiny accomplishment that took the help of just a handful of people. Practically like 5 or 6 people at Resolve and IC. Maybe 7.<br />
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... No...<br />
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Wait...<br />
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Eff. That's not right at all. Screw the 5th of November... Remember Remember the 24th of May! (Though that doesn't quite have a nice rhyme to it. Work with me here.)<br />
Guys, we ALL worked TOGETHER to pass that bill, and now, look how time flies. President Obama has 8 DAYS to get that plan of action out.<br />
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Did you see that?<br />
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8 freaking days. <br />
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The staff at Resolve Uganda, along with activists across the nation, have been working their butts off to ensure that this strategy that President Obama decides upon is not just a halfway thought through plan, but rather an effective and holistic strategy to end Joseph Kony's reign, and end the suffering that Central Africa has been dealing with for 24 years.<br />
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So, just like we needed your help in getting that bill signed into law, now it's time for some follow through!<br />
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We want 10,000 signatures on this pledge stating that we are waiting for that strategy and are expecting a comprehensive plan of action. Have you signed it yet? Go here. Now.<br />
<a href="http://salsa.democracyinaction.org/o/2241/p/dia/action/public/?action_KEY=4766" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://salsa.democracyinaction.org/o/2241/p/dia/action/public/?action_KEY=4766</a><br />
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It takes less than 5 minutes to sign that. Use your voice to fight for those without it. We refuse to stand for injustice. So speak up. Be heard. If you don't say a word, everything will stay the same way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"> </span>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-39686934320446445192010-11-02T19:54:00.000-05:002010-11-02T19:55:10.004-05:00on flirting.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://torontoist.com/attachments/Jaime%20Woo/2008_05_27_Sex_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://torontoist.com/attachments/Jaime%20Woo/2008_05_27_Sex_3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Here's the deal, I want to flirt with my husband.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">And I don't just mean when we're dating, or the first few years of marriage... but 50 years down the road when I'm frumpy and he's balding.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want be 55 and still buy lingerie to wear for him, because I hope he still thinks I'm sexy.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want to text him flirty texts and surprise him with his favourite dinner, served while wearing a catwoman costume... because why the heck not?</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I hope we make fun of each other all the time, I know I'm ridiculous... and if he's married to me, he'll have to be. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want him to bring me tulips and lilies when we are old, because he knows me well enough to not get me roses.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want to dance with him.. and not just that wimpy swaying back and forth... I want to tango, to salsa, to waltz with him on into the night. Put on a long dress... or maybe just a nightgown, and dance. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want to travel the world with him, and live overseas with him, keeping a record of all the places we've visited... or, well.. nevermind.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I hope we people watch. That sounds so silly, but you know it's fun. We'll imitate the new couples as they are first falling in love, and ooh and ahh over each other like the young marrieds do. We'll laugh at awkward outfits and funny looking puppies, and roll our eyes at the pulled together business man who walks with an arrogant strut.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want to give him my "dear future husband" journal at our wedding... and start a new one: full of fun facts and cute things that made me think of him during the day, so that each week, he has something new that I reveal or a new secret I let him in on (like how smokin hot I think he looks in his old geezer glasses).</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I desperately hope that our idea of a good time when we are 65 is not just watching a sappy movie, but that we have picnics, set up a hammock in the woods, hike, make matching tie-dye shirts.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I want to fall madly in love with my husband every single day, and I want to grow with him in Christ as Christ directs us. I want to be overwhelmed with how much he listens to the Lord in the hard times, and I want him to be the leader during rough patches. I know that there will be fights and anger, but I trust that having Christ as our center will help us get through our problems.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">And I hope that even after all the sickness, laughter, tears, babies, headaches, joy, family losses, and arguments...</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I hope that we flirt.</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-65295201575101605312010-11-01T21:31:00.000-05:002010-11-01T21:40:10.584-05:00and thus I make it my ambition to preach the Gospel...<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I get so angry with apathy, with ignorance that people don't even try to cure, with self-absorption.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Each week, I see it grow in our group, and it makes me want to cry. What has happened? How can you take what you read in the Word and in these books that challenge you, and then not actually apply it? We discuss them, we "ooh" and "that's so true" and "that really challenged me," but <i>when</i> are we changing the way we live our life because of it?</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Get out and do something. Don't be so selfish with what the Lord has given.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>We are</i> <i>blessed to</i> <i>be a blessing.</i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>We are blessed to be a blessing.</i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>We are blessed to be a blessing.</i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>We are blessed to be a blessing. </i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Here in America, we just stop after "we are blessed."</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> </i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">You have a car? Give international students rides to Walmart. You have clean water? Drink it for 10 days instead of buying other drinks, then take the money that you would have spent and donate it to build wells (http://10days.cc). You have a free Saturday? Host a carwash/book drive/garage sale/etc for Invisible Children. You want to see the world reached for His glory? Pray for the nations. Go to the nations. Get out of your comfort zone. Go.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'm sorry, I just don't want to explode on someone.... so I wrote this out. It's a mess, as I'm not focusing well. Don't expect any fluidity, any poetry or eloquent phrases. I'm just so frustrated with the state that American Christians are in. There are people who are dying without any sort of access to the Gospel, and what are we doing to change that? We are hosting game nights with our local church group and discussing theology with each other...</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Good plan. Because when Jesus commands us to go and make disciples of all nations, He really means to take what we know, grow it in our own lives, and then refuse to share it to those who are spiritually hungry. Because when we are told to serve the poor, the widows, the orphans, He really means to just serve the people in our church, because they are the ones who pour back into our lives... and really it's all about us. Please don't get me wrong here. It is GOOD to discuss theology. It is GOOD to grow one another within the church, and to have fellowship with believers. That's Biblical. But there is <i>so much more. </i>How are we<i> applying </i>it<i>?</i></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">And I know that not all American Believers are like this, so don't be offended if you're one who stands up for justice, and takes Truth to the nations.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I also know that it can be a difficult balance- social justice and the Gospel. Trust me, I'm guilty of putting justice before the Gospel on multiple occasions, and have been convicted hardcore of that. But we can't throw the baby out with the bathwater. We can't just assume that things are fine for everyone. That just because we are living in America means that we are loved more by the Lord, and thus we can choose to turn our backs on our brothers and sisters across the world who are living in oppression. Take Love with Truth. Take it to the Nations.</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">It's Biblical. I promise.</div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-82697587419503108652010-10-22T15:55:00.000-05:002010-10-22T16:00:57.037-05:00ten twenty. twenty ten.<h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="UIIntentionalStory_Names" data-ft="{"type":"name"}"> </span><span class="UIStory_Message"></span></h3><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>"460 miles later and</b></span></span></span></span><b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>that voice will never sound the same again." - Nathan Weger</b></span></span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="UIStory_Message" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<span class="UIStory_Message" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Truth.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="UIStory_Message" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: small;">I'm still blown away by how incredible Sufjan was on Wednesday night. I almost feel bad for anyone who has had to deal with me the past couple weeks, as I think it was all I've talked about. Music has such a power- It can draw people together, it can inspire, it can bring laughter, it can heal. Few musicians have been able to do for my soul what Sufjan has, and so the chance to see him live was just... insane. Clearly, I'm still not able to put into words how much I loved it, so pardon my poor sentence structure or the fact that this isn't the most interesting blog in the world. And I may seem like I'm putting a musician on a pedestal, which I try not to do, but his music has seen me through an insane amount of times: good, bad, weird, incredible, awful. And it was fitting that the concert was a couple days after the 3 month mark.</span><style>
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</style></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bah. I'm sorry, I'm rambling.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm just..</span><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">When I die, when I die</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">I'll rot.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">But when I live, when I live</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>I'll give it all I've got.</b><br />
</span></div></div><span class="UIStory_Message"></span></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-959943416286949692010-10-13T00:28:00.001-05:002011-06-20T00:21:21.298-05:00on losing your best friend.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At first, you shake. A lot. At least, I did. I could barely scroll through my phone to find his number. And call him. Twice. Because along with that shaking is the utter disbelief that the person you love so much is gone. Then, with realization, comes the scream. It's the scream that you hope they can hear... but no one else. I don't want anyone else to see that I just broke into a million pieces. Who wants people to actually see their hurt? You think to yourself, <i>"If I scream his name loud enough, he will hear... he will come back"</i>. You cry. Uncontrollably. It doesn't matter how many arms are holding you. None of them are the ones you want. And you think at that point that no arms will ever matter again. </span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next few days, weeks even, bring you no sleep. Many a night spent face down in the prayer room, calling out to the Lord to hear and comfort you. You feel guilty when you laugh... which isn't a whole lot. You think no one understands. You get angry easily, and feel bad about it. You read through every text, or instant message,listen to that last voicemail. Once.... well.. twice.. okay.. all the time. It's almost funny how much you look at their FB... just in case you missed some secret message saying he is actually just hiding out- he always said you two would run away and move to Croatia... he just got a headstart. You think about it, and laugh, which makes you cry some more. Everything reminds you of him... or her. You have songs that you listen to on repeat. And you cry. </span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Scripture. </i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Prayer. </i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Hugs.</i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Tears.</i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Worship.</i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Tears. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i> Scripture.</i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Hugs.</i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> Tears.</i></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <b>Repeat. </b></span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I think at some point, you realize that you can't continue on like this, but you don't know how to stop hurting. You know that you have to stop purposefully reminding yourself of them or else you will never be able to go on with life. But you don't want to lose their memory: how they brushed your tears away, the sound of their voice.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There is an emptiness that just doesn't seem to be filled. You wake up, and it's there, like a rooster that wont stop crowing. You can tell it to shut up, but it mocks you and crows louder. Sometimes, you forget. You wake up from a dream and expect a wake up text. And you feel the pain all over again as soon as that rooster opens its darned mouth. </span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A week after Chris passed, I wrote his name in the sand. As the tide came in, it washed it out and I did absolutely everything I could to not scream. To not throw myself in and beg that the ocean tide took me away. Almost every day for a month brought a moment like that for me.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But you start school again, you get into a routine. You cry a little less. You write letters to friends to say how much you love them. You write letters to the one you lost in hopes that they can read it. You ride a jetski by yourself for the first time, and when you feel like you're flying, you squeal a joyful "Thank you!" to the one who taught you to fly without fear. You laugh with a bit less guilt, but it's still hard to not cry afterward. You continue to think of them daily, but at least it's getting a little easier.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And then, after almost three months, you realize that you haven't searched for that last text conversation in a week or two. You watch Pride & Prejudice and don't want to throw a pillow at the screen. You let yourself notice the cute guy who is showing you attention. You laugh a deep, rich laugh that doesn't turn into a sob. Slowly, your ratio of bad days to good gets less and less. And you know in your soul that you are not betraying anyone for it. You find yourself more thankful for life than you've ever been before. Thankful for the precious, sweet time with the one you lost and thankful that the Lord is helping you.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And you realize that you're moving on. You don't love them any less. And sure, there are days that grab you or memories that take you by surprise and it's almost hard to stand. And though you never want to lose those memories or the feeling you had when he held you, you know that you don't have to hold on to them so tightly. They will always be there. You look around at the changing season, and take a deep breath of fresh autumn air.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>You're breathing, you're smiling, you're finally alive.</i></span> </div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-13188240764929637202010-10-09T18:50:00.000-05:002010-10-09T18:50:42.980-05:00because<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">So, somehow, I've never seen this video. It's from over a year ago...</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Oh, best friend and little. We should sing together more.</div><br />
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<object height="344" style="background-image: url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/InDsE9ScPao/hqdefault.jpg);" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/InDsE9ScPao?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/InDsE9ScPao?fs=1&hl=en_US" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-58982947881621956042010-10-07T10:45:00.000-05:002010-10-13T01:00:30.965-05:00what in the world? (pretty literally)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdh_AuzGhh9D9IJUEXaNiPePdAAoxbsjeGKXv4-Cvl2aKBQB2h27UIcVJSOy6V3oca-rv7UVeH7Gu-qb11OZweS_YCGJ6eWO2IBoZVu44GWyMVb3IxMQv1Q5JpLfekZOj-OgkMUqygXgu/s1600/Picture+4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="611" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdh_AuzGhh9D9IJUEXaNiPePdAAoxbsjeGKXv4-Cvl2aKBQB2h27UIcVJSOy6V3oca-rv7UVeH7Gu-qb11OZweS_YCGJ6eWO2IBoZVu44GWyMVb3IxMQv1Q5JpLfekZOj-OgkMUqygXgu/s640/Picture+4.png" width="640" /></a></div><div style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, so I just found the "stats" tab on my blog the other day (maybe I'm a little behind...) and was pretty shocked by this. I mean, the US number makes sense. It's a bit higher than expected, though I bet quite a few of those times it was me coming back here, debating whether I had time to post or not. And I can see the 2 from Australia. Most likely Chad?</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But how in the world did I get 14 views from Turkey?? And ALL IN ONE DAY? Those were all from yesterday.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This counter just blows my mind. Now I want everyone from another country to comment. That's just cool. You're free to think my blog is pointless, because most of the time it is, but I think it's crazy how people from nine countries have looked at this in the past month..</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, freak out over. </span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Have a good day. <3</span> </span></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-73571687064980315642010-10-04T00:30:00.000-05:002010-10-09T18:52:53.062-05:00just because you can't see the sun doesn't mean it's not shining.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Don't. </b></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Don't you dare.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We must make a choice: Life or death. I'm choosing life, every minute of every day.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's dark, and there are waves hitting me that I can't even see. It's wearing on the soul, and it would be so easy to rest; to lay down. But if I lay down and let the waves take me over, I'll never be able to get up. I'll die on this beach. Don't give in. The shoreline is so beautiful when you wait it out until the sun hits the edge of the horizon. Wait for it to sprinkle it's light across the waves, and watch them dance underneath it. The sun didn't burn out, I promise. It's just hidden from view for a little while longer. Hold on.</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We're here, if you'll open your eyes. Take heart, my little one. We understand.</span></div>Janellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12414990450288063542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8076874964716733033.post-64695890155983147452010-09-30T17:08:00.000-05:002010-09-30T17:09:20.235-05:00Larov<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>“Mostly,” said the roof to the sky,<br />
“the distance between you and I is endlessness;<br />
But a while ago two came up here,<br />
And only one centimeter was left between us.”</i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
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