<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895</id><updated>2012-02-10T01:26:29.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saved by grace, through faith</title><subtitle type='html'>Life.
Love.
Reflection.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>88</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2015736081006714931</id><published>2009-10-22T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T10:50:17.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not giving up</title><content type='html'>"There's a point in life where you get tired of chasing everyone and trying to fix everything. But it's not giving up...it's realizing that you don't need certain people, the bullshit, and drama they bring"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe this quote more now than I ever have.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know why I posted it on Sept. 24th.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what was going on then.&lt;br /&gt;But I know that it applies to my life more now than I could ever imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed this quote today.&lt;br /&gt;All the shit I am going through.&lt;br /&gt;I needed this quote today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not giving up.&lt;br /&gt;For once in my life I am actually living.&lt;br /&gt;And it's not for anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;It's not for my friends.&lt;br /&gt;It's not for my family.&lt;br /&gt;It's not for society.&lt;br /&gt;And it's not for this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm living for God.&lt;br /&gt;And for once in my life I know I can be happy.&lt;br /&gt;I know that I deserve to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't make me a bad person.&lt;br /&gt;There will always be situations and circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;But I've living.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2015736081006714931?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2015736081006714931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2015736081006714931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2015736081006714931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2015736081006714931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-not-giving-up.html' title='It&apos;s not giving up'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-470834955140046651</id><published>2009-09-24T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T13:36:03.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a joke</title><content type='html'>"There's a point in life where you get tired of chasing everyone and trying to fix everything. But it's not giving up...it's realizing that you don't need certain people, the bullshit, and drama they bring"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, it's not giving up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-470834955140046651?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/470834955140046651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=470834955140046651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/470834955140046651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/470834955140046651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-joke.html' title='I&apos;m a joke'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4235130386697082563</id><published>2009-09-19T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T19:10:10.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have I missed it?</title><content type='html'>It's been far too long since I've written in here or written in general for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon graduating from LCC in May my life has been nothing but stress and uncertainty.&lt;br /&gt;I tried for so long to make myself believe I was happy but I wasn't. &lt;br /&gt;The day before my 24th birthday I realized I wasn't happy and that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. &lt;br /&gt;Just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel as though I've allowed God to get lost in the shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;I've made some pretty serious decision in the past month.&lt;br /&gt;The first being to go forth with my plan to apply for the Peace Corps. The second being to cut back my hours at the mission and my third being to quit my job at the day care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just recently gotten a job working back at the JcPenneys in Springfield. Now at first I thought this would be perfect since I've worked at Penneys for many years in the past. But the more I thought about it the more stress I began to place upon myself. I passed up a job working at a sandwich shop with friends for this job which I know will cause me stress I am so trying to avoid. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can do it.&lt;br /&gt;I've trying to see God in all of this. &lt;br /&gt;Where he's at. &lt;br /&gt;What he wants me to do.&lt;br /&gt;I just pray I haven't missed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just pray I haven't missed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gadNqdMv-4A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gadNqdMv-4A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4235130386697082563?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4235130386697082563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4235130386697082563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4235130386697082563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4235130386697082563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/09/have-i-missed-it.html' title='Have I missed it?'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2073017274941919084</id><published>2009-04-30T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T23:59:03.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My programmed heart</title><content type='html'>Within the past week I have witnessed two people confessing their love for one another and making the committement to spend the rest of their lives together.&lt;br /&gt;I have also been in the presence of new life. Babies are a marvoulous creation from God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of these events have brought my two largest fears to the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being alone&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;Failure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want nothing more than to be a loving wife and a mother.&lt;br /&gt;If I am alone the rest of my life I have failed at being a wife (obviously) and I have failed at being a mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear that because these two things are such a desire of my heart I will never become a wife thus I will never become a mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somedays I fear I won't be able to have children and will never fully understand the joys of being a mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's strange to think that I wanted to be married by the age of twenty and here I am almost twenty-four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life sure is funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never had very good luck with guys&lt;br /&gt;I always find some way to mess up whatever is there.&lt;br /&gt;No matter how little&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess deep down I'm scared.&lt;br /&gt;Scared out of my mind to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to end up like my parents.&lt;br /&gt;Divorced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just recently come to the conclusion that I am worth being pursued.&lt;br /&gt;For the past nine years I've always thought I was the one who had to do the pursuing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wondered how the guys was supposed to know I liked him if I didn't tell him or have my friend tell him or make it more than obvious.&lt;br /&gt;It's about this time that I usually start messing up anything good in the relationship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past five years I allowed myself to think I wasn't worth being pursued.&lt;br /&gt;That it was perfectly fine for the guy to take his sweet sweet time deciding what he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;In the past five years I have in some way contributed to the ending of the last three relationships I have been in.&lt;br /&gt;I've only ever thought I could marry one person. I mean I've thought a lot of times I could probably marry that person.&lt;br /&gt;But it is just recently that I've realized there is only one person that I really ever truly thought I could marry.&lt;br /&gt;And believe it or not I have messed that relationship up too. (or lack of relationship I should say). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the longest time I used to blame it all on my weight.&lt;br /&gt;The reason I was single and that guys didn't like me was because I wasn't attractive because I was overweight.&lt;br /&gt;And now somedays I wish that were the case. But I realized a month ago that wasn't the case.&lt;br /&gt;It was safer for me to blame my weight than to step back and look at myself or at the guys I was dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somedays it just doesn't make sense to me.&lt;br /&gt;Somedays I get sick to my stomach watching others who are in love.&lt;br /&gt;Somedays I wish I wasn't as nice.&lt;br /&gt;Or that I didn't like helping people.&lt;br /&gt;Or that my heart wasn't this big for other.&lt;br /&gt;Or that I didn't care as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's the way God has programmed my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I love people&lt;br /&gt;I want to help people&lt;br /&gt;I'm a hopeless romantic&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a mommy&lt;br /&gt;I wear my heart on my sleeve&lt;br /&gt;I'm emotional&lt;br /&gt;I care&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that somedays I feel like I am more than enough but at the same time I will never be enough.&lt;br /&gt;I fear that I will never get married and know the joy of marriage and family and that scares me more that I could ever express to you.&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to stick to my heart and wait for someone who will pursue me.&lt;br /&gt;Because that is what I deserve.&lt;br /&gt;Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2073017274941919084?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2073017274941919084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2073017274941919084' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2073017274941919084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2073017274941919084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-programmed-heart.html' title='My programmed heart'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4000384564864746316</id><published>2009-02-23T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T10:33:10.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You act like you wanna&lt;br /&gt;But you say you don't&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to discuss it with ya&lt;br /&gt;But you wont&lt;br /&gt;Yeah and half the time&lt;br /&gt;You're on my mind&lt;br /&gt;And it makes things go&lt;br /&gt;A little more slowly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So&lt;br /&gt;So if you like me&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you kiss me&lt;br /&gt;Let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Wont you please oh please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you want me&lt;br /&gt;You should just tell me&lt;br /&gt;Let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Wont you please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's been a long time&lt;br /&gt;So I'm hungry for love&lt;br /&gt;And you know a little affection&lt;br /&gt;Could get the job done&lt;br /&gt;So wont you hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;Or be half a man&lt;br /&gt;And tell me honestly&lt;br /&gt;How I fit into your plans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah if you like me&lt;br /&gt;You could just kiss me&lt;br /&gt;Let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Wont you please oh please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you want me&lt;br /&gt;You should just tell me&lt;br /&gt;Let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Wont you please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not trying to push ya&lt;br /&gt;But my heart is on my sleeve&lt;br /&gt;And it's strange&lt;br /&gt;Since it's usually under lock and key&lt;br /&gt;This isn't a game&lt;br /&gt;Don't let me take it out in vain&lt;br /&gt;Don't make me sing another song&lt;br /&gt;About how you're stringing me along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah if you like me&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you kiss me&lt;br /&gt;Let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Wont you please oh please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you want me&lt;br /&gt;You should just tell me&lt;br /&gt;Let me down easy&lt;br /&gt;Wont you please oh please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy, oh make it easy please&lt;br /&gt;Make it easy on me"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, when I heard this song, I couldn't help but think about how much I could relate this to you. And everything in this song does fit quite well. Except one line. I get stuck on this one line everytime. And that line is this...'make it easy on me.' Everything inside me wants to agree with every last bit of this song. And I would have had I not taken the time to reflect on the last 7 months. I've come to the conclusion that I do not want it to be easy. And trust me, it hasn't been easy. I will admit there are many times I get frustrated but even in the frustration of it all I can see God working. I will continue to surrender it over to God and know that He is in control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4000384564864746316?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4000384564864746316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4000384564864746316' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4000384564864746316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4000384564864746316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/02/easy.html' title='Easy'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3409959586122137602</id><published>2009-02-12T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T13:30:39.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>far,far away</title><content type='html'>I will run&lt;br /&gt;far,far away&lt;br /&gt;far,far away&lt;br /&gt;but only for a moment&lt;br /&gt;a moment long enough&lt;br /&gt;I will run&lt;br /&gt;far,far away&lt;br /&gt;I will return&lt;br /&gt;restored&lt;br /&gt;renewed&lt;br /&gt;refreshed&lt;br /&gt;stronger&lt;br /&gt;I will return&lt;br /&gt;pieced together&lt;br /&gt;with a sown up heart&lt;br /&gt;I will return&lt;br /&gt;but only for a moment&lt;br /&gt;I will run&lt;br /&gt;far,far way&lt;br /&gt;a moment long enough&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3409959586122137602?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3409959586122137602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3409959586122137602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3409959586122137602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3409959586122137602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/03/farfar-away.html' title='far,far away'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-687292199593229604</id><published>2009-02-02T00:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T00:05:14.454-08:00</updated><title type='text'>They say...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;center&gt;that distance makes the heart grow founder.&lt;br&gt;I'm not sure if I believe them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-687292199593229604?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/687292199593229604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=687292199593229604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/687292199593229604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/687292199593229604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/02/they-say.html' title='They say...'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3355951445713618933</id><published>2009-01-28T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T23:53:45.287-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear</title><content type='html'>"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were to ask me a week ago what I was feeling I would have told you I felt a strange peace over everything that was happening in my life. &lt;br /&gt;That's not to say I don't feel that same way now because I do. But today, I also feel distant. &lt;br /&gt;I feel distant from a number of things.&lt;br /&gt;First, I feel distant from God. Distant in the you haven't seen your best friend in a while kind of distant way. I've been neglecting the relationship I've sought to have with Him. I've allowed other obligations, other responsibilities, and pure carelessness to interfer and have allowed myself to loose focus. At this point in my life I trust God more than I ever have in the past. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently went through some of my past entries and was simply in awe of God's power. I can see how much God has challenged me. I can see how much God has changed me. I can see how much I've grown. &lt;br /&gt;For once in my life I do not feel captive but at the same time I do not feel free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel distant from my friends. &lt;br /&gt;I feel distant from my ministry.&lt;br /&gt;I feel distant from school.&lt;br /&gt;I feel distant from you.&lt;br /&gt;I feel distant from myself.&lt;br /&gt;At first I didn't realize I was floating away from life. It wasn't until I was half-way across that I thought something didn't seem right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Althought I may feel distant I will not give up.&lt;br /&gt;I will row back, paddle back, swim back whatever it takes.&lt;br /&gt;I shall not be in the middle of this ocean forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When looking back on what God has done for me I can't help but cry out in thanks. I have never been this content single. There was always something or someone that held hostage my attention. Making it that much easier to neglect my relationship with God. &lt;br /&gt;And although there is a someone there is not a something. As difficult as that was to type and as much as I want to backspace ever bit of it, there it shall remain. &lt;br /&gt;Mainly as a remind to myself of just that, even though there is a someone there is not a somethng.&lt;br /&gt;There are only few days I feel that there is not a something there. On the days when I do I quickly allow myself to make excuses for the situation and allow fear to take over ever part of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am terrified. And I have allowed this fear to knock me off course.&lt;br /&gt;It's like my boat shifted the night we had our intense conversation and it wasn't until our last conversation that it shifted back on course. &lt;br /&gt;In that frustrating conversation I saw your hurt. &lt;br /&gt;It's funny how in that single conversation God made it even more apparent as to why I should keep my focus on Him and off of dating. I made a covenant with God not to date until May 16th, I'm not sure why I thought it would be ok to scratch that out. Oh that's right it's not ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're ready, it might not be for me.&lt;br /&gt;That's a risk I'm willing to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father God, open my heart to love. To love You. To love others. And to love myself. Challenge me daily to see the world through your eyes. Strengthen me daily to take up my cross. Teach me daily to live like you. Help me to be honest with myself and with others. I surrender all that I am to you daily. I forgive myself and others daily. I choose to love daily. Thank you for picking me up when I fall. I will take the highs with the lows. The good with the bad. The beautiful with the ugly. Because I know that life isn't easy. And truthfully I wouldn't want life to be easy. So thank you for the difficulty. I appreciate life more. I am willing to lay down my life and serve you. Forever and always. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3355951445713618933?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3355951445713618933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3355951445713618933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3355951445713618933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3355951445713618933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/01/fear.html' title='Fear'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-1484557121996145798</id><published>2009-01-18T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T23:41:42.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Friend</title><content type='html'>As I'm sure you can tell, I haven't written in a while. So many things have been on my heart for such a long time that much of the time I find it difficult to write and even more difficult to talk. Therefore all I can do is be silent. I really feel as though I am in need of more silence. God has been doing so many things in my life that I wouldn't even know where to begin in telling you. I feel as the time goes on I become stronger, I become wiser, I become more patient and I become more broken. Although some days I may seem more frustrated walking out than I did walking in the truth is I probably am. But I'm realizing that's ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I saw the wounds. Tonight I felt the wounds. In the words you spoke. I don't know if you realize how much they have attached themselves to you. How much they are sucking the life out of you. How much they are weighing you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I should be crying I'm not. As much as I should be frustrated I'm not. Don't get me wrong I have many emotions running through me at the moment but somehow through it all, through every little bit God is showing me something bigger. I don't know what it is. I really don't have any idea. And at this very moment I am content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God thank you for being my best friend&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-1484557121996145798?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1484557121996145798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=1484557121996145798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1484557121996145798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1484557121996145798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/01/best-friend.html' title='Best Friend'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2111944016708971994</id><published>2009-01-05T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:38:37.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teacher, Teacher</title><content type='html'>After you've done something have you ever felt like maybe you shouldn't have done that? I found a devotional today at the Christian bookstore that I really just felt like I needed to buy for him. And so I did just that. But then of course I had to buy a card. And then I had to buy Mike &amp;amp; Ikes. I mean it only made sense. I know that my intentions were in the right place but you never can tell how others may take things. I tried not to get too carried away in the card. There was a show tonight so I went to the Sheep to see that and give him his gift (that sounds so lame). I told him he couldn't make a big deal out of the gift and that he had to put it in his car and open it later. And so he did just that. I've since left the Sheep and I'm now back at the mission. I think one of the reason we regret doing things is because we don't always know what the out come will be. So I sit here not really sure what I am waiting on. Do I expect him to respond once he opens it? What if he takes what I said about not making a big deal out of it literally and decides not to make any deal about it? There are so many what if's, maybe's, and unknown's swimming around my head. And to that I say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father God, help calm my heart and fill it with peace in this time of waiting. Please allow my heart to be shown in the words that I wrote. Continue to help me surrender daily all that I am and all that I have to you and only you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still keep thinking last night was a dream. I know in my heart it was real just like I know God is working for the better in all of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God you are so good. Thank you for continuing to break down walls of comfort and complacency demanding me to get up and move. Thank you for guiding each step I take and helping me to take every thought captive. I know you are piecing together bit by bit every moment in my life. Thank you for always showing up, never letting go, loving endlessly and forgiving. Please help me in surrendering this relationship over to you daily, trusting that you are working. Father teach me to seek after you and humble myself at your feet.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2111944016708971994?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2111944016708971994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2111944016708971994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2111944016708971994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2111944016708971994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/01/teacher-teacher.html' title='Teacher, Teacher'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5047341376201417709</id><published>2009-01-04T22:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T22:41:00.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You for taking a chance on me</title><content type='html'>I sat in my car speechless&lt;br /&gt;motionless.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to cry. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be angry. I sat there not really sure what just happened.&lt;br /&gt; When I got home I looked at myself in the mirror for a good while. Much of the time silent. When I did speak, I repeated what you told me. Hoping each time to get a reaction out of myself. Something, anything. But all I can do is smile  at God's goodness. I can't be angry with you and I hope you know that now. I saw the hurt and pain inside your heart. Thank you for share that with me. I know that God is piecing together every event, every conversation, and every thought. God thank you for being faithful. Thank you for showing up. And thank you for presenting an opportunity for me to share my heart. God help me to continue to surrender daily all of myself to you. Do not allow the devil to take hold of my thoughts. Thank you for not allowing me to focus on the conversation that was had but rather to focus on You and Your will for my life. Please help line my will up with Your will.&lt;br /&gt; My heart would like to write more but my eyes are growing tired. I will leave you with the song lyrics to At Your Cross by Worth Dying For. This is a song that I have permenantly pressed upon my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You took the weight of my sin and my failure on Your shoulders&lt;br /&gt; Now I'm redeemed from Your love that poured over and over&lt;br /&gt; And at Your cross, I fall facedown&lt;br /&gt;At Your feet, I lay myself&lt;br /&gt; Holding nothing back Here in this time with You&lt;br /&gt; You gave me life, through Your cross&lt;br /&gt; And I offer all of my soul&lt;br /&gt; Now I am free, through Your love that poured over&lt;br /&gt; 'Cause death is over&lt;br /&gt; If my lungs can't sing,&lt;br /&gt; I'll sing with my heart &lt;br /&gt;With my soul,&lt;br /&gt; with my mind,&lt;bra.&gt; I fall facedown To show my love I fall facedown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5047341376201417709?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5047341376201417709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5047341376201417709' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5047341376201417709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5047341376201417709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/01/thank-you-for-taking-chance-on-me.html' title='Thank You for taking a chance on me'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-1524583378525875672</id><published>2009-01-02T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T09:29:56.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I always like the start of a new year. People have so much motivation, so much drive that it's contagious. But it seems that as the year goes by that motivation and drive slowly fade away. There are many things I could have done in 2008. Many things I should have done. Things I should have never done. Ideas that were left unexplored. Creativity that was left untapped. Songs that were left unsung. Words that were left unspoken. Words that should have never been spoken. But with all the things I did or didn't do in 2008 one thing still remains the same...&lt;strong&gt;I wouldn't change anything.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I always like the start of a new year. But something about 2009 feels different. At the beginning of December I began feeling that 2009 will be a year of revolution and revival. Lives will be saved. People will be healed. The gospel will be preached. Now don't get me wrong, I know these things are happening all the time. But I feel as though we have been at a standstill for quiet some time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I logged on to write this blog I read some of my friends updates...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I say this year my new years resolution isn't surface...its simple. Live each day a little better, a little wiser with a lot of love."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"So, this year I am going to make each moment count. I am going to take as many walks as I can, I am going to have as many conversations as I can, I am going to represent Jesus as much as I can through my actions."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think this is what it's all about. I think that when we are living each day a little better and that when we see that life is one day at a time we are able to live more fully. There are a number of things I will do in 2009. You can call them goals. You can call them resolutions. You can call them whatever you like. I simply choose to call them life. I am choosing to live each day in 2009 to the fullest. I am choosing to love more. I am choosing to enjoy and take care of what God has created. I am choosing to share the love I have for Christ with those around me. &lt;strong&gt;I choose no longer to be in this standstill.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What will you choose in 2009?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-1524583378525875672?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1524583378525875672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=1524583378525875672' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1524583378525875672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1524583378525875672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009.html' title='2009'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7472170568348508038</id><published>2008-12-16T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T23:56:14.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Father God, hear my prayer</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why this blog has taken me over two weeks to write. It's been weighing so heavy on my heart but at the same time I have not been able to find the words. I sit here not knowing where to begin…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father God, I have been so selfish. Selfishly living for myself. When I offered my life to you I selfishly kept some in hopes that I could remain somewhat in control. And that's just it, I did remain somewhat in control of my life. I placed limits and conditions on our relationship all the while expecting you to deliver upon demand like a puppet on a string. And when things didn't go as I planned I blamed You. Even though I knew it was me, I was to blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't I just surrender? Why couldn't I trust? Why couldn't I be honest? Even in my selfish living you have been right by my side. I know that You have been waiting for the day when I would see I needed to let go. I know You've been waiting for the day I fully surrender every burden, every worry, every hope, every dream, everything over to You. For so long I thought that's what I'd been doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father God, thank you could never and will never be enough for You. At the end of May I moved to Springfield. I never would have thought You would use such an insignificant act to change my life. And You did just that. I had no idea that moving to Springfield would be as difficult as it was in those first few months. I can remember specific nights where all I did was cry. I couldn't help it. I would call my mom crying because I didn't know if I could do it. In the bottom of my heart I knew I could do it because I knew it's where You wanted me right now. But my head told me there was no way. The only people I knew in Springfield were the people I worked with, I had no church, I had no one from school, I had no where to get away. I was alone and trapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But God You are so good. Even in the times of what seemed like an emotional break down or a quarter life crisis you were there. You were there calling out to me. Saying if I would only seek You, I would find You. But what did that mean, Seek You? I thought I was seeking You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here broken yet filled with more hope than ever before. I know with everything I have, everything I am that you are real and that You are here. Here in Springfield. There isn't anyone that could convince me other wise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was always a part of me that felt unworthy and incapable of being used by You. It's just now, as I sit here that I can see You ARE using me. It's only because I know You that I feel I am able to help people. You have filled me with so much compassion for Your people. There are times when I wonder why it is I care so much?? And it's now that I realize , I care  because You care. As I sit here my heart is filled with gratitude. I'm not sure exactly what you are doing but I KNOW YOU ARE DOING SOMETHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at the beginning of December that I read about Matthew 7: 1-6 in my devotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, 'Let me wash your face for you,' when your own face is distorted by contempt?It's this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part.Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor. -Matthew 7:1-6 (The Message)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since then I have never been the same. I do not apologize for being different. I cannot continue sitting here letting the world remain unchanged, unmoved, and unaltered. I cannot continue sitting here talking about what needs to be changed, what needs to be moved and what needs to be altered yet remain still. I can not and will not live a lazy, still, hypocritical life for You. Mother Teresa said that when we are judging people we have no time to love them. I don't want my life to be like that, I want to spend all my time loving people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, tonight I cry out to You, not unlike many other nights, begging for wisdom and guidance. I have struggled with my place in Springfield. I know You have called me to greatness. And I strive to work at all I do with my only intention being to glorifying You.What is my place here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have blessed me with the opportunity to become part of a ministry that is changing Springfield. A ministry that strives to reach a generation of young people that need You. A ministry that dreams of community reconciliation. A ministry that my heart cries out for. A ministry that is offered up to You in total surrender. Help me to see where You want me in all of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I have asked you in recent weeks to help me not to wear my heart on my sleeve. And that has gotten more and more difficult for me. I see people wanting change, speaking of changing yet they are still. And I know I cannot judge them for what they do. Help me to ignite a spark that will set Springfield on fire for You. Use me to help mend the hearts of those who have lost all faith and trust in You Father. Those that are broken from hurt, those who seem to say but they do not do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I don't feel like I have authority to speak. I know they are waiting for me to speak. They know something isn't the same. I have the heart I wear on my sleeve to thank for that. Father God, I want so badly to speak truth in love. I want so badly to be able to encourage but it has become difficult and complicated. I know that You know my heart and You know how deeply I care.Help me to find ways to encourage, ways to lift, and ways to touch lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do something good every day" is what it says on the Starbucks Red Exclusives sign in front of me. Do something good every day…I want to do something good every day.Start today…we have to start today because soon today will be tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like this blog has jumped around quite a bit. I do however feel as though I have expressed much of what I have been suppressing the past few weeks. I will conclude by offering up praise to You Father God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have been using everything that happens to me to teach me more than I ever thought possible. I stand firm in my dedication to You in remaining single and giving all that revolves around that to You until at least graduation. I know that You are moving and working in this. Help me to remain patient and to wait on Your timing and to seek You in all my frustrations, disappointments, fears, joys, tears, and anger regarding it all. You have given me strength that I never knew I had. I know more than he thinks I know. But God I am in debt to You for the ways in which You have changed me. For the first time in my life I feel at peace even in the midst of so much confusion and unknown..I know that You have allowed me to learn so much from the previous relationships I have been in. I am not perfect. But You have helped me develop a heart of understanding, a heart of compassion, and heart of patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea why people do the things they do. I have no idea why people say the things they say or why they act the way they do. I have no idea why people are scared of love. I have no idea why people hold themselves back, limiting themselves in the risks that they take. But I do know that You are helping me to see and understand that not everyone is like me. We are all at different places in our lives. You have made me to love, to help, to change, to encourage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days I can't understand how I could be ok letting it all go without ever knowing or how I could be ok with seeing/knowing there's the possibility of someone else being there that's not me. But then I realize that I have to be ok with the possibility of those things happening. Because I care more about him finding happiness than him having to hurt.I pray that he is able to forgive and know that he is forgiven.I pray that he is able to see, to really see that You are using him and have bigger plans for him. I pray that he is able to reconcile his relationship with Your bride. I pray that he finds a spark that ignites a fiery passion for You more so than he has now. I pray that You continue to help me see him through Your eyes as the man that You are growing him to be but do not let me become blind to the man that he is right now. I continue to pray for words of wisdom , honesty, and strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God I thank You for the ability to leave me speechless and in awe of all that You are , all that You've done, and all that You are still doing. Thank You for the reassurance and hope found in Your Word.&lt;br /&gt;Thank You for using someone like me to share Your love with the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7472170568348508038?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7472170568348508038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7472170568348508038' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7472170568348508038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7472170568348508038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/12/father-god-hear-my-prayer.html' title='Father God, hear my prayer'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-936008056792756816</id><published>2008-12-13T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T10:26:16.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Headless horseman</title><content type='html'>Once again, I feel like I'm running around like a chicken with it's head cut off.&lt;br /&gt;But really it's my own fault. I get myself into these situations, not anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently I'm trying to burn the Christmas cd I made for the 3rd time.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also in the process of getting the kitchen set up for cookie decoration chaos.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't think we will have enough icing. So I should probably make a Shop-N-Save run.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's already 12:15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to say forget it with this cd, I don't have time to mess with it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even on this committee so why I feel obligated to make sure things stay under control is beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should probably be in the meeting they are having right now.&lt;br /&gt; But I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I would go is to find out how they plan on running the cookie decoration extravaganze (as I've so graciously named it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was up until 2:30 making cookies.&lt;br /&gt;Went to bed at about 4.&lt;br /&gt;Woke up about 8.&lt;br /&gt;I just check on the cd burning process and things look promising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought it would be nice for the kids to be able to listen to Christmas music while they decorate cookies.&lt;br /&gt;And not just any Christmas music, no no no, but you know the "cool" Christmas music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nsync&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pokemon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elmo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VeggieTales&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheetah Girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hannah Montana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Wiggles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barney&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chipmunks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hilary Duff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corbin Bleu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rugrats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas cd &lt;strong&gt;SUCCESSFUL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-936008056792756816?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/936008056792756816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=936008056792756816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/936008056792756816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/936008056792756816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/12/headless-horseman.html' title='Headless horseman'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8101137991875465296</id><published>2008-12-09T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T12:24:37.704-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Reunion</title><content type='html'>My brothers are coming to Springfield to see me on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;We are going to go Christmas shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited. They will be able to see where I live and meet the people I work with and the residents at the mission!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaffer had a really great idea for a gift to get our dad. We are going to get him a turntable with a cd player. I found one on sears.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited they are going to be here Sunday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8101137991875465296?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8101137991875465296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8101137991875465296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8101137991875465296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8101137991875465296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/12/family-reunion.html' title='Family Reunion'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6810649857664823943</id><published>2008-12-01T00:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:53:08.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LIAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A lie is a false statement&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;deliberately presented as being true; a falsehood&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something meant to deceive or give a wrong impression.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;does that sound about right to you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6810649857664823943?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6810649857664823943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6810649857664823943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6810649857664823943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6810649857664823943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/12/liar.html' title='LIAR'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4061516431656500461</id><published>2008-11-26T00:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:41:42.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HIDE AND SEEK</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;WHERE ARE YOU GOD? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SOMETIMES I SEARCH SO HARD TO FIND YOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;THAT I WALK RIGHT PAST YOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ALL I WANT IS TO BE ABLE TO HEAR YOU&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SOMETIMES I FEEL AS THOUGH &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;WE ARE PLAYING A GAME &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;OF HIDE AND SEEK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I JUST WANT TO SCREAM&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i feel like i am trying to balance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;everything on a tight rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;like i am in a circus act&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and when they lift the curtain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;there i am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;frozenfor all to see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unable to move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unable to speak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unable to hear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unable to think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unable to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i just stand motionless upon the rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;staring into the crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;searching for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sometimes my eyes blur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;from the crowds of people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;from the bright lights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;from the height&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;at those times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it becomes much harder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to seek you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to find you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to hear you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i feel as thougth i have lost you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;amoungst the crowd of people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;amoungst the high volume of chatter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;amoungst the array of attractions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;amoungst the lion tamer and contortionist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;amoungst the peanut salesman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i was separated from you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i open my mouth to speak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but i am still left standing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;frozen on the rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;elevated too much for comfort off the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN YOU HERE ME?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;CAN YOU HEAR THE SILENT CRY FOR RESCUE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slowly i am able to move again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;sliding further and further&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;on the rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;balancing ever so gracefully&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with my umbrella in hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the crowd begins to shout and clap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as my feet start to move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;maybe i will find you now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;now that the crowd seems to be &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ever so pleased with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;they are waiting for me to jump&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;they don't think i will make it across&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i am still scanning the tent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in what appears to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the calmest fashion of disarry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ever displayed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;scanning in hopes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to lock eyes with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to find you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to hear you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with each step upon the rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the crowd cheers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;louder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;louder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with each wobble &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;unbalanced move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;they become ecstatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with the possibility&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of failure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of embarassment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of humiliation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of disappointment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of regret&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;of frustration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;WHY HAVEN'T I FOUND YOU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;WHY CAN'T I HEAR YOU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;WHER ARE YOU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in an instant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the gracefullness &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that once plagued my whole being&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;has disintegrated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and is visible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;on the ground below me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;now dust has filled the air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;from the collision&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;between &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my umbrella and the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as the dust begins to move&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it fills my eyes with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what is now a muddy film&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;from the tears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;there is no chance of visibility &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;for me now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i must either jump&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and give up &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;discontinuing my search for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i must continue on this rope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;until i reach the other side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my eyes now blinded &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the possibility of reaching the other side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;is becoming less and less&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;there just doesn't seem to be a way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the crowd begins to quiet &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as they seem to be realizing &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the seriousness of the events&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;at hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i will reach the other side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;somehow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;someway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with each slow step i take&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my heart beats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;faster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;faster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;through the whispers of the crowd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i can hear a voice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to trust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to have faith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to seek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to listen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to slow down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;asking me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to walk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;TRUST IN YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;HAVE FAITH IN YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;BELIEVE IN YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SEEK YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;FIND YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISTEN FOR YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SLOW DOWN O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I WILL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;WALK TOWARD YOU O, GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you are there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Help me hear you O, God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"My Shepherd who finds me, please help me see whereI am, that it's never too far lost for You to find me.Help me hope for You while You hope for me, and letme know the joy of being part of Your plan...&lt;br /&gt;My Shepherd who is never far away, please hear myprayers. Walk with me and talk with me and hear mypraise and my pleas from the darkness...&lt;br /&gt;My Shepherd who redeems me, please make me readylike David, unafraid and sure of victory over the dangers in my life. Please help me commit my spiritwith enthusiasm and confidence...&lt;br /&gt;My Shepherd who grows me, please trust me withpart of Your plan and make me at peace no matterwhat. Please help me walk on Your holy ground in obedience and trust. Amen" (Pursued by the Shepherd)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4061516431656500461?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4061516431656500461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4061516431656500461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4061516431656500461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4061516431656500461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/hide-and-seek.html' title='HIDE AND SEEK'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4247182363156377117</id><published>2008-11-14T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:25:48.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>With or Without me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;October 14,2008:"Satan has been attacking like a mad man. And what is even worse, I've been letting him. I have been frustrated lately and satan has been using that against me. I haven't been feeling very worthy of anything. I can't seem to wrap my mind around how destructive satan is. Sometimes he catches me so off guard that I can't help but fall right into his lap of lies."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I recently finished reading Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud &amp;amp; Dr. John Townsend. When I first started reading it I didn't like it at all. I'm not sure why that is. I just couldn't seem to finish it. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't finish reading it. Now I don't know about you but I'm an underliner, highlighter, note taker when I read. I am going to share some from this book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-"Forgiveness is something that we do in our hearts; we release someone from a debt that they owe us."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-"Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delighted inheritance (Ps. 16:5-6). But we are the ones who have to do battle. The battles fall into two categories: outside resistance and inside resistance - the resistance we get from others and the resistance we get from ourselves."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-"Finding your life's work involves taking risks...You must take ownership of how you feel, how you think, and what you want...look at your work as a partnership between you and God."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-"Until you face your own feelings, you can't even see who others really are. You are looking at them through your own distortions, through your own unfinished business."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-"It's hard to see how we'll change the world when we have to live on the same street." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This quote, the last one I will share, happens to be near and dear to my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"...truth-telling in romance helps define the relationship. It helps each person to know wher he starts and the other person stops."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have learned a lot about myself now having finished this book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I've realized that I cannot do everything. And just because I cannot do everything doesn't mean people aren't going to like me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have now started reading The Lies We Believe by Dr. Chris Thurman. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can't begin to tell you the impact this book has had on me in the few chapters I have read. It is still sinking in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can tell you this. I have no doubt in my mind that God is using everything that I am learning to help me grow, to change, and to become a more effective leader. I know that He is teaching me more about relationships. He is repairing a heart that has been broken and let down time and time again. He is opening my eyes to everything that is around me. I have never thought that world revolved around me. But I am learning more and more each day that people have their own lives. They live. As a child I often wondered what other people did in their homes or at their schools or when they went to work. It wasn't until riding in the car one evening as I looked in the window of a house passing by that I saw a family eating dinner, watching television, reading, etc...that it actually hit me. People live.  And I am remind of this each and every day. When I go to Lincoln to visit people from school, they continue living when I leave.When I leave the Black Sheep after a show and I go my separate way, people continue living.When I visit Bloomington and then drive back to my new home in Springfield, people continue living.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;People are living each and every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With or without me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4247182363156377117?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4247182363156377117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4247182363156377117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4247182363156377117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4247182363156377117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/with-or-without-me.html' title='With or Without me'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-939863930107571542</id><published>2008-11-11T23:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T00:21:00.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Renae's homecoming</title><content type='html'>Tonight was the Renae show at the Black Sheep.&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited when I walked into the sheep and saw all the kids that were there on a Tuesday night. I was really worried that not a lot of people would be there and I didn't want to let the guys down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had told them that I would promote and do whatever they needed me to while they were gone on tour to help this show. It was so great to get to see them again. I always have a great time at the sheep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful to have found such a positive place to spend my time. I have met such amazing people who have accepted me no questions asked like we've been friends for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has really been doing things here in Springfield. I know that one day soon Springfield is going to burn with a fire so bright and hot for Christ that other cities will catch. I am so excited to see what God does with the bible study that we are beginning. I know that he is using us, he is using me to transform Springfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have begun to form amazing relationships with the kids in Springfield. I truly believe they know that I am here for them and that I genuienly care for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-939863930107571542?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/939863930107571542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=939863930107571542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/939863930107571542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/939863930107571542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/renaes-homecoming.html' title='Renae&apos;s homecoming'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7836003569870500984</id><published>2008-11-11T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T08:17:01.261-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;post in progress...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7836003569870500984?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7836003569870500984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7836003569870500984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7836003569870500984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7836003569870500984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6679744784150346191</id><published>2008-11-08T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T09:39:24.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgiveness is a hard word to feel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;actions speak louder than words&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6679744784150346191?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6679744784150346191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6679744784150346191' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6679744784150346191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6679744784150346191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/forgiveness-is-hard-word-to-feel.html' title='Forgiveness is a hard word to feel'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2601606543398844003</id><published>2008-11-03T23:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:49:14.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Use and abuse</title><content type='html'>Pauletta has been out using Crack again. She has also been sleeping around with a woman friend of hers. I could tell that something had been different that past few weeks. I'm not sure exactly how many times she has went out and used. This is the first time she has admitted to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Pauletta spent $50 on crack she will be on level 5 restriction for 50 days. She will need to complete the Beth Moore Breaking Free study before she will be let off of restriction. Level 5 restriction means that she cannot go anywhere with out a staff member present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott also talked with Tim and Hope and explained to them that Tim has to be off the property from 9am to 9pm until further notice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2601606543398844003?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2601606543398844003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2601606543398844003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2601606543398844003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2601606543398844003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/use-and-abuse.html' title='Use and abuse'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2181973671871982936</id><published>2008-11-03T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:28:03.079-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Patience-Tyrone Wells&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;Just have a little patience,&lt;br /&gt;I’m still hurting from a love I lost&lt;br /&gt;I’m feeling your frustration&lt;br /&gt;But in a minute all the pain will stop&lt;br /&gt;Just hold me close, inside, your arms, tonight&lt;br /&gt;Don’t be too hard to on my emotions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I need time,&lt;br /&gt;My heart is numb has no feeling&lt;br /&gt;So while I’m still healing&lt;br /&gt;Just try to have a little patience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to start over again&lt;br /&gt;I know you wanna be my salvation,&lt;br /&gt;The one I can always depend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to be strong, believe me&lt;br /&gt;I’m trying to move on,&lt;br /&gt;Its complicated but understand me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause I need time,&lt;br /&gt;My heart is numb, has no feeling&lt;br /&gt;So while I’m still healing&lt;br /&gt;Just try to have a little patience yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a little patience, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Cause the scars run so deep&lt;br /&gt;It’s been hard but I have to believe&lt;br /&gt;That you’ll have a little patience&lt;br /&gt;Have a little patience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh cause I, I just need time,&lt;br /&gt;My heart is numb has no feeling&lt;br /&gt;So while I’m still healing&lt;br /&gt;Just try to have a little patience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a little patience&lt;br /&gt;My heart is numb, has no feeling&lt;br /&gt;So while I’m still healing&lt;br /&gt;Just try to have a little patience&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Music has a funny way of speaking to us. The above lyrics couldn't have come at a better time. Lately I've been learning that I'm really good at talking the talk but I'm not always good at walking the walk. And what I mean when I say that really just pertains to relationships. I am quick to say I have patience. I am quick to say I can wait. I am quick to say all these things that sound nice at the time. I know that I really do mean everything I say. I just think I don't realize at the time how difficult it really will be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;       Last night I had a talk with Kevin. After many daydreams of how the conversation may go and many nights of talking through the conversation with many friends, I felt I had a pretty good grip on what I would say if I were given the chance. Now of course I never intended to actually have this conversation with him, ever. I mean the conversation sounded nice in my head but in reality it was scary. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;       Within the past few weeks I have really been feeling like the opportunity to have this conversation was fast approaching. I have been praying about it for the past two months. Waiting on God's timing. Because really it wasn't a conversation that I wanted to have, it was more a conversation I knew I needed to have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;       God has been pressing upon my heart the importance of honesty. Kevin and I had a wonderful conversation last night. I really feel that something beautiful happens when people can be honest with eachother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;       I feel as though Kevin and I shared equal amounts of talking time during our conversation. Although my portion of the talking dealt more along the lines of what I have been feeling the past few months. I am happy that I was able to be honest with him about my feelings. Even the feelings of frustration. I think it was good for both of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;       The conversation didn't go as I had planned. Not that I thought the conversation would go horribly or that I thought it would go amazingly, I really just thought it would go. God has a funny way of working. Kevin said he isn't oppossed to something happening between him and I. We are going to hang out more and get to know eachother. He isn't ready for anything right now nor is he sure of what he wants. Which is understandable. God is still healing his wounded heart. I think that is why this song really gets me. I feel like it describes how Kevin may be feeling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;         I know it describes me, to a T. I need to have patience. If I say I am going to have patience, then I need to have patience. It's not easy. And honestly, it sucks! But I have to surrender daily everything and put it all into the hands of the one who is in control. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2181973671871982936?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2181973671871982936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2181973671871982936' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2181973671871982936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2181973671871982936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/11/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4770757790358072035</id><published>2008-10-30T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T11:31:35.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;is beautiful when you actually live it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4770757790358072035?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4770757790358072035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4770757790358072035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4770757790358072035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4770757790358072035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7297816423749035287</id><published>2008-10-30T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T07:53:40.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, life</title><content type='html'>I am amazed at the amount of endless work God puts into the relationship Him and I have. &lt;br /&gt;He uses every situation, every person, every problem, everything to teach me and to change my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I should have cried. Maybe not right then and there, but I should have cried on the way back to Springfield.&lt;br /&gt;I know the exact conversation I would have had with God.&lt;br /&gt;I would have told Him that I just don't understand why things never work out for me. &lt;br /&gt;I would have told Him that it's not fair that the nice girl seems to NEVER win.&lt;br /&gt;I would have probably thrown something in about how I must not be pretty enough, smart enough, good enough, or anything enough.&lt;br /&gt;I would have asked Him where the guy is that will take a chance on me. Stepping out in faith trusting that you will be at his side.&lt;br /&gt;I would have said all those things had God not been preparing my heart for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see Saturday night when I was driving home from Lincoln, when I surrendered fully my life, my heart, and my love to God, those weren't just words.&lt;br /&gt;That wasn't something I said in a moment of desperation. Those words were said honestly crying out to Him seeking to find Him. &lt;br /&gt;I feel as though sometimes God and I are playing hide and seek. &lt;br /&gt;In this moment of confession and honesty I feel like God and I were both out in the open, laughing with each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I should have been crying but I wasn't and I didn't and I won't. &lt;br /&gt;Because God has changed my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Majority of the time it is difficult for me to see the changes God has made in my life.&lt;br /&gt;But now more than ever I am seeing the amazing woman of God He is molding me into. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to last night, I thank you for your honesty.&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for friendship.&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for laughter.&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for the future.&lt;br /&gt;God is the only one who knows what's ahead.&lt;br /&gt;I'm ok with that.&lt;br /&gt;I know that God has us right where he wants us for this moment.&lt;br /&gt;I have no doubt we will be great friends.&lt;br /&gt;God is changing both our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;He has already changed yours greatly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And although I am just another foolish girl on your list of hit and runs I feel much wiser having my name on that list. &lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never been happier than I am in this moment feeling closer to God than I ever have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7297816423749035287?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7297816423749035287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7297816423749035287' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7297816423749035287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7297816423749035287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/oh-life.html' title='Oh, life'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6751915102060285106</id><published>2008-10-29T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T07:54:06.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit and Run</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here this morning and all I want to do is cry.&lt;br /&gt;I have been praying in every way possible since Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;Seeking more than I've ever sought before.&lt;br /&gt;I have never in my life felt like this.&lt;br /&gt;Never.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what this is.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how this happened.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where this came from.&lt;br /&gt;My heart cannot stop pounding in my chest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past 3 days I have felt...&lt;br /&gt;like a foolish foolish girl, how could I be worthy of such great blessings&lt;br /&gt;like this is the most vulnerable I have ever been&lt;br /&gt;like pieces of the stone wall I have placed around my heart were broken off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have presented a brokenheart upon the altar for God&lt;br /&gt;Seeking only to please Him&lt;br /&gt;Seeking only to do His work &lt;br /&gt;Seeking only His will&lt;br /&gt;Seeking His repair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many thoughts racing through my head.&lt;br /&gt;Why is it always after the fact that I find the words to say.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like life is being dangled in front of me and there is nothing I can do but...wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I feel as though no one is willing to give me a chance.&lt;br /&gt;It's hard for me to explain&lt;br /&gt;I feel like God is the only one who knows me&lt;br /&gt;He's the only one who gets to see my heart&lt;br /&gt;He's the only one who gets to see my passion for service.&lt;br /&gt;He's the only one who hears my song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God thank you for taking a chance on me and loving me even when I mess up.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for sending someone to take a chance on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all I thank you for helping me surrender daily to You.&lt;br /&gt;Offering all I have.&lt;br /&gt;Loving you with all I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6751915102060285106?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6751915102060285106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6751915102060285106' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6751915102060285106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6751915102060285106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/hit-and-run.html' title='Hit and Run'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7287791854984507893</id><published>2008-10-28T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T20:49:29.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Agape</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AZLf--Uc7V0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AZLf--Uc7V0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, I need you like a hurricane right now.&lt;br /&gt;I need your hands to guide me&lt;br /&gt;I need your feet to lead me&lt;br /&gt;I need your words to comfort me&lt;br /&gt;I need your strength to guard me&lt;br /&gt;I need your peace to calm me&lt;br /&gt;I need your love to surround me&lt;br /&gt;I thank you for this opporunity to be changed.&lt;br /&gt;For my eyes to be opened to your world.&lt;br /&gt;I will wait on you for I know you are preparing something great.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for helping me to find the patience to wait.&lt;br /&gt;And in this waiting I pray that I would draw closer to you than I've ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my rock.&lt;br /&gt;You are my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;Break my heart for that which breaks yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You O, Lord are my first Love.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to find ways each and every day to share your Love with others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7287791854984507893?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7287791854984507893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7287791854984507893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7287791854984507893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7287791854984507893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/agape.html' title='Agape'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4133031319279168594</id><published>2008-10-28T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T06:06:28.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prepare in me a steadfast heart, O Lord</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here debating whether to post or not.&lt;br /&gt;I would love to sit and write down everything that has been going on the past week.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not exactly sure myself what has been going on let alone how I would begin to articulate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most I can muster up to say is that people change.&lt;br /&gt;Life happens and people change.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes God throws us curve balls.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes he hits out to left field to make sure we're awake.&lt;br /&gt;Life is happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is changing.&lt;br /&gt;God has changed my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never in my life felt like this before.&lt;br /&gt;I cried a good portion of the early morning yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;Tears of joy.&lt;br /&gt;Tears of thankfulness.&lt;br /&gt;Tears of confusion.&lt;br /&gt;Tears of willingness.&lt;br /&gt;Tears of doubt.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all tears of surrender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always taken the actions of my life in my hands.&lt;br /&gt;As much as I'd like to think I've surrendered it all to God that has never been the case.&lt;br /&gt;I've never allowed him to work without me cutting in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way home from Lincoln Saturday night I prayed a prayer of surrender.&lt;br /&gt;I needed to confess my selfishness and arrogance to God. For the past year I have thought I was ready for love. Actually I knew I was ready. I couldn't understand why God wasn't allowing me to find love. Why didn't I have someone great in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I would talk with God often about how I would be patient and wait for him. Knowing darn well I had no patience to wait. &lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until Saturday night driving home from Lincoln that I realized the past year I thought I was ready for love...I was far from ready.&lt;br /&gt;I mean so far from ready it's not even funny.&lt;br /&gt;So I cried out in thankfulness. I was so thankful that God kept me from love this past year. Because in the past year I have grown so much closer to God.&lt;br /&gt;We've become best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I cried out to God &lt;strong&gt;fully surrendering my life, my heart, and my love to Him.&lt;/strong&gt;I can't tell you what is different about this time because honestly, I don't know what is different.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has been preparing my heart for something big.&lt;br /&gt;I took my first baby steps alone this past weekend allowing God to lead the steps of my life&lt;br /&gt;I have never felt God working in my life more than I did then.&lt;br /&gt;I am still in awe of God. &lt;br /&gt;But now that the weekend is over I latch back on to God. Allowing Him to guide me step by step. &lt;br /&gt;Because I have no control in His plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think I was crazy if you only knew.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not crazy.&lt;br /&gt;He's preparing me for love.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just letting Him do His thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Because for the first time in my life this feels right&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4133031319279168594?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4133031319279168594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4133031319279168594' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4133031319279168594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4133031319279168594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/hes-my-best-friend.html' title='Prepare in me a steadfast heart, O Lord'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4268369076740415611</id><published>2008-10-23T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T21:06:48.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>December 19, 2005</title><content type='html'>The following is a post I found in my livejournal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everything is so different now. It feels like nothing is the same. I know things have to change and people have to change. &lt;br /&gt;But at what point do we all learn to accept this change? At what point do we say we say okay I understand? Does that point ever come? Or are we always mad at the world for changing, mad at our friends for changing, mad at ourselves for changing? Things can't stay the same forever as much as we would like them to that's not the way the world works. Why? &lt;br /&gt;I don't have an answer for you. All I know is that change is growth. I know for myself I don't want to be stuck in the same place for the rest of my life. Whether that be mentally , physically, spiritually, or emotionally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to grow and to grow I must change. I feel like I've been growing a lot lately. It's funny how one event can have such a huge impact on your life. But I guess all it takes is one event to open your eyes to all the things you were blind to before. I was blinded by some things and I know I am still blinded by some but I feel like as the days go by and I begin to grow and change day by day the bandages are unwrapped from my eyes. When will the bandages be fully unwrapped, I don't have the answer to that and I'm okay with it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't need to know every step of my life, I don't need a blue print to know what is next, I'm fine just sitting back and waiting. I know what you're thinking, you're okay with waiting, since when. I know that waiting it a part of life. We all wait, everywhere we go. And as you wait you begin to develop patience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for my life to begin."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4268369076740415611?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4268369076740415611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4268369076740415611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4268369076740415611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4268369076740415611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/december-19-2005.html' title='December 19, 2005'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3454833236017048807</id><published>2008-10-21T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T21:00:23.960-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's just emotions taking me over</title><content type='html'>Where have I been at lately?&lt;br /&gt;That is a really good question. Once I figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know.&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what is going on with me lately. Like right now I feel horrible. My head is aching. My stomach hurts. My eyes have been hurting the past couple days. Like the "I haven't been wearing my glasses" hurt. But I have been wearing my glasses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59 days until my internship is over. I just counted them. Right now I feel like December 19th couldn't come soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend was CRAZY, I still haven't written about it.I haven't really had time to do anything.&lt;br /&gt;I went to Bloomington on Sunday night to see my mom since she had surgery. I ended up hanging out with Courtney and then Sally. It really made me miss Bloomington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I am going to get a second job. I'm going to see about working at the JCP in Springfield or maybe Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really want to go back to JCP but I mean I already know the job.&lt;br /&gt;I just really want to be able to move out after the first of the year.&lt;br /&gt;I think that would help a lot with me being stressed and feeling crazy all the time.&lt;br /&gt;And when I say all the time I mean ALL THE TIME!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean majority of the time I am happy. &lt;br /&gt;But it's becoming less and less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often times I wish someone could just tell me what to do with my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I thought about moving back to Bloomington after my internship.&lt;br /&gt;I will only have two classes I need to physically go to. One is once a week for 6 weeks and the other is just my speech class which I'm taking at the community college. &lt;br /&gt;If I moved back home I could get the Pricing/Signing Supervisor position at JCP making like $10 or $11 something an hour working 40 hours a week. &lt;br /&gt;It sounds great...&lt;br /&gt;except the leaving Springfield part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have made so many amazing friends here.&lt;br /&gt;I have found a great church.&lt;br /&gt;It would be hard to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I miss Bloomington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually on the verge of tears because I really just don't know what to do anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong I love my job. I love what I am doing. &lt;br /&gt;I am just stressed out.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be doing this the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;I want to have a more consistent schedule.&lt;br /&gt;I want more structure.&lt;br /&gt;I know that once my internship is over I want to work less at the mission.&lt;br /&gt;I mean I guess that's what I say now but let's be honest knowing me that could change in ten minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get to sleep. I haven't been feeling well the past couple days.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure it's a mixture of everyone at the mission getting sick, not sleeping enough, and eating horrible. &lt;br /&gt;Plus an electrician is coming at 7:30am to fix something that means I have to get up at 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many things to do in the weeks to come.&lt;br /&gt;I should just take a couple days off work and get it all done.&lt;br /&gt;So then I won't have to stress about it.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I could do that next Tuesday-Thursday and just come back to Springfield in the afternoon on Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to start using my planner.&lt;br /&gt;I need to manage my money.&lt;br /&gt;I need to manage my time.&lt;br /&gt;I need to prioritize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I have been M.I.A. Jess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3454833236017048807?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3454833236017048807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3454833236017048807' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3454833236017048807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3454833236017048807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-just-emotions-taking-me-over.html' title='It&apos;s just emotions taking me over'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-1670510178581692894</id><published>2008-10-17T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:54:19.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Edward Scissor hands</title><content type='html'>The kids were playing downstairs and Corrine and Matthew got in an argument over a pair of scissors. Somehow Corrine was stabbed in the hand with the scissors. One of the women from the group helped care to her wound. Gary cleaned up the little bits of blood in the playroom with a bleach mixture. I ended up taking Corrine and Kathy to St. John’s to make sure everything was ok. They will need to go back on Tuesday to make sure everything is ok with Corrine’s hand once the swelling goes down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jasmine is staying overnight at St. John's for observation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veronica came back from the hospital. She found out that she has scabbies. Yay!!!&lt;br /&gt;I told her she needed to wash all her bedding immediately and that she needed to put on the lotion that the doctor gave her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-1670510178581692894?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1670510178581692894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=1670510178581692894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1670510178581692894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1670510178581692894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/edward-scissor-hands.html' title='Edward Scissor hands'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8978816419488522774</id><published>2008-10-17T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T21:33:25.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayer</title><content type='html'>Lord, this is my prayer to you tonight.&lt;br /&gt;That you would guide me to the right words.&lt;br /&gt;That you would guide me to the right path.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to stay calm in all situation.&lt;br /&gt;I thank you so much for this opportunity to learn and grow.&lt;br /&gt;I ask that you allow me to see it as that in all times.&lt;br /&gt;I am learning so much.&lt;br /&gt;I am growning.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to hold onto my emotions so they do not show to all the residents.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to hold the tears back. Only to cry in front of you.&lt;br /&gt;Lord open up a door to a conversation about you.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to be a strong post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan I rebuke you.&lt;br /&gt;I plead the blood of Jesus over my life. &lt;br /&gt;Father God I pray that you allow me to get a restful nights sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Void of interruptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray for Savannah and her visit tonight. &lt;br /&gt;I ask that you calm her heart and help her family to be comforted.&lt;br /&gt;I pray that her dad would continue to let her come and play at the mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray all these things in your Holy name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8978816419488522774?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8978816419488522774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8978816419488522774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8978816419488522774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8978816419488522774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/prayer.html' title='Prayer'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7172518684303940954</id><published>2008-10-16T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T01:03:10.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby steps</title><content type='html'>For once in my life I am content with taking baby steps.&lt;br /&gt;You know like the kind of steps a baby takes right when they are learning to walk.&lt;br /&gt;The kind where someone holds both their hands leading them all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is how I feel my relationship with God is at this very moment.&lt;br /&gt;He is holding both my hands leading me all around the "living room"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows I'm not quiet ready to walk on my own.&lt;br /&gt;But he is slowly letting go.&lt;br /&gt;He's not going very far of course.&lt;br /&gt;He's still right beside me ready for those moments when I fall flat on my bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know like most babies do when they are learning to walk on their own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7172518684303940954?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7172518684303940954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7172518684303940954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7172518684303940954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7172518684303940954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/baby-steps.html' title='Baby steps'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-1083475112732397815</id><published>2008-10-16T12:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T12:47:36.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Cop</title><content type='html'>So I've realized that I am more of the bad cop than I am the good cop.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm ok with that most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;I get discouraged sometimes when I can see the residents and how they act around certain staff members. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They get away with things when certain people work.&lt;br /&gt;I mean that's just the way it is.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying it's right or wrong.&lt;br /&gt;All I'm say is it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm the only one who sees it.&lt;br /&gt;But it's there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-1083475112732397815?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1083475112732397815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=1083475112732397815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1083475112732397815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1083475112732397815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/bad-cop.html' title='Bad Cop'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8887623130976862603</id><published>2008-10-13T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T14:19:08.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And the frustration sets in...</title><content type='html'>I don't even have words for the frustration I have right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shawn Smith the registar at LCC sent out an e-mail letting us know about Spring registration.&lt;br /&gt;I went on the student portal to look and see when the class I need are offered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny thing happened, I couldn't find Prep for Cross Cultural Missions.&lt;br /&gt;Which is the only missions class I have left.&lt;br /&gt;So I e-mailed Rob to see if maybe the name of the class was changed.&lt;br /&gt;You never know right??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He e-mailed me back and let me know he didn't think they were offering it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am frustrated to the point of tears. &lt;br /&gt;Because if I don't get to take that class I can't graduate in May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks LCC.&lt;br /&gt;For so reason I knew you guys wouldn't make it easy for me to graduate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I e-mailed Rob back asking him what I can do since I need it to graduate.&lt;br /&gt;Patience &lt;br /&gt;Patience&lt;br /&gt;Patience&lt;br /&gt;Wait&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8887623130976862603?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8887623130976862603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8887623130976862603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8887623130976862603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8887623130976862603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-frustration-sets-in.html' title='And the frustration sets in...'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2344226367675760502</id><published>2008-10-13T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T10:43:16.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>M.I.A.</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a while.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what's going on with me.&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to find the time.&lt;br /&gt;But really I am doing nothing.&lt;br /&gt;But I am busy.&lt;br /&gt;I will post tonight after class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2344226367675760502?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2344226367675760502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2344226367675760502' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2344226367675760502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2344226367675760502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/mia.html' title='M.I.A.'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5494829427745586130</id><published>2008-10-05T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T07:45:06.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seek first the Kingdom</title><content type='html'>Last night isn't even worth blogging about. I mean it is. But I've not giving satan that kind of power. It's not even worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But know this, I am seriously Kung Fu Panda kicking satan in his junk right now. No lie. He thinks he's a jokester. And that's just not so. I'll sucker punch him right in his face. Then we'll see whose laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is God is more than good. &lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning not really caring about last night. &lt;br /&gt;I mean well ok, that's a little bit of a lie.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I shouldn't say I don't care about it...&lt;br /&gt;Let me put it this way, I'm not going to allow the devil to use the situation last night to bring me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because J.C. has my back. He has everything under control, whatever that may be.&lt;br /&gt;I mean he raised flippin' Lazarus from the dead, not sure if yall knew that or not. &lt;br /&gt;But it was the real deal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blessed with amazing friends.&lt;br /&gt;God has provided more than I could ever ask for.&lt;br /&gt;His love is unfailing.&lt;br /&gt;He is in control.&lt;br /&gt;And the first time in my life I can honestly say, I am ok with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5494829427745586130?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5494829427745586130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5494829427745586130' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5494829427745586130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5494829427745586130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/seek-first-kingdom.html' title='Seek first the Kingdom'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2498738965326454233</id><published>2008-10-03T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T20:43:21.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday nights</title><content type='html'>I enjoy Friday nights like tonight. &lt;br /&gt;When the kids behavior is fairly well kept. &lt;br /&gt;When parents are consistent.&lt;br /&gt;When residents don't start drama.&lt;br /&gt;When the house is quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy Friday nights like tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2498738965326454233?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2498738965326454233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2498738965326454233' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2498738965326454233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2498738965326454233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/friday-nights.html' title='Friday nights'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5174580648225510645</id><published>2008-09-29T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T09:58:17.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work</title><content type='html'>I am sitting at Starbucks working on curriculum for the children's classes at ICM and I came across this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have someone read aloud Genesis 2:15. What were Adam and Eve supposed to do? (Take care of the beautiful Garden of Eden.) Work was given as a gift to Adam and Eve before their fall into sin.  It was not meant to be a punishment but an opportunity to share in God’s creativity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how awesome it would be if we saw work as a blessing as a gift from God just as it was originally intended before the fall rather than seeing it as a punishment or something that we have to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5174580648225510645?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5174580648225510645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5174580648225510645' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5174580648225510645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5174580648225510645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/work.html' title='Work'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5443977581357709034</id><published>2008-09-28T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T06:32:58.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightmare</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a horrible nightmare. I mean like I woke up in a panic. In this dream I was at the mission doing something outside. I can't remember what but I was walking up the mission door and I guess two HUGE dogs, I mean like only in a dream could dogs be this big huge, were chasing me. As I opened the mission door the dogs were like right behind me so I was trying to shut the door to keep the dogs out but they got inside. Everyone was screaming. I guess the dogs got to the kitchen and must have attacked someone because the next thing I see is blood coming from someone's head. I think one of the dogs must have attacked one of the babies because I saw blood on them too. But the more frightening thing is that one resident Dawnn (she doesn't live at the mission anymore but she was there at the time) was using the baby as a rag to wipe up the blood on the counter. It was almost as if the baby was flat like someone had been banging it up against something to flaten it out. So the baby was now dead, people are bleeding from being attacked by dogs...it was at this  point that I woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure the reason I had this dream and the reason it was so violent is because I saw Dawnn walking on the street today as I was leaving Springfield. Dawnn lived at the mission for a few months and I was her case manager so I knew a lot of information about her. She has a little boy that she is trying to get custody back of because of an accident that happened with him being burned in a fire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5443977581357709034?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5443977581357709034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5443977581357709034' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5443977581357709034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5443977581357709034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/nightmare.html' title='Nightmare'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8120246547633543342</id><published>2008-09-25T23:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:38:16.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O.C. to the max</title><content type='html'>Corrine was out of control tonight. Simply out of control!!! She did not want to go to class tonight. I had no energy to fight and or argue with her like in previous weeks. So instead I just sent her to her room. Tylinda went to check on her and found her playing legos in her room. Ty told her that she needed to put her toys away. Later when I went down to check on her she had a horrible attitude, she was mouthy, and disrespectful. Ty went down to check on her again and found her coloring. Ty told her to put up the coloring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8120246547633543342?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8120246547633543342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8120246547633543342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8120246547633543342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8120246547633543342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/oc-to-max.html' title='O.C. to the max'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-1488475593688597529</id><published>2008-09-25T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T14:53:05.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I am feeling</title><content type='html'>like I don't want to move to Texas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-1488475593688597529?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1488475593688597529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=1488475593688597529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1488475593688597529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1488475593688597529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/today-i-am-feeling.html' title='Today I am feeling'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5107309394377638257</id><published>2008-09-19T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:30:28.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>creepy crawlers</title><content type='html'>Sherrie found some lice is Jasmine's hair today. She is going to wash all of her sheets and bag up all her things to clear their room of it. She is also going to keep an eye out on the other kids to make sure they don't have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise God that the kids have not been spreading this. It seems like as one child has it it get cleared up and taken care of and it's  a little while longer before we hear of another outbreak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5107309394377638257?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5107309394377638257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5107309394377638257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5107309394377638257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5107309394377638257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/creepy-crawlers.html' title='creepy crawlers'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-524974924324945447</id><published>2008-09-18T19:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T20:22:05.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Motivation</title><content type='html'>I seem to be struggling with a lack of motivation of sorts. I mean I have motivation to do thing. It's just not the right kind of motivation, if that makes any sense. I mean like for instance, my facebook status said, "Mystery is missing school" and by that I mean that I am missing the work that I would have to do if I was in school right now. Which really that does make sense because I have papers I can be writing, books I can be reading, lessons I could be creating. All of which are assignments for school. This blog is an assignment for school in a way. I am suppose to be journaling everyday during my internship. And while I tried very hard to journal everyday I just couldn't do it. No matter how hard I tried. I even talked with my Friend Amanda who told me she had to tell herself this is an assignment that I have to do, in order to make herself journal. Even when I told myself that I still couldn't do it. I think it's partly because when I sit down to write I just have so much to say by the time I get to the second page I'm already tired of writing. Sometimes I will stop and tell myself I will come back but I never do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that said I decided to keep a blog instead of a journal. Which I mean really it's the say thing. It's just easier for me to type in this everyday than it would be for me to write everyday. So in essense I am missing school but school is right here with me. I looked over my learning covenant for my internship and realized that I haven't accomplished any of the goals on my list. I'm in the process of all of them but I've accomplish none. Zero. Nada. My internship will be finished in 3 months, which to those of you reading this may seem like forever away but when you've really been doing this for the past 4 months, 3 months seems like a day away. The time is just slipping away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write about today...&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been feeling like I'm playing the game life or Monopoly or any game in which you have to move back spaces. I feel like the past 4 months I have been advancing with the kids. We've made a lot of progress as far as their listening and semi following directions. But now it's like I've picked up a card that says move back ten spaces. The past week has been a struggle. I wrote about how Tuesday night I just wanted to cry. Tonight was much better as far as class goes. For one thing I got my new curriculum books in the mail. I was so happy I almost cried (Yes, I am that much of a nerd.) I will probably order some more next week but for now these will do. Since I just got the new books today I had to quickly throw something together for class tonight. I picked out some lessons that we've done in the past. I made sure they weren't lessons these kids had done. I have a great group of volunteers that come on Thursday nights. The older kids learned about compromise while the younger kids learned about emotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corrine had another blow up tonight. I don't know if I've written about her past blow up in the last week. Saturday when the group was here we had an issue, Monday night we had an issue, Tuesday night we had an issue, and then tonight. Tuesday night I was at the point where I just couldn't take it. I told her dad that she either needed to stay with him or go to her room. Tonight I called all the kids for class and Corrine didn't come upstairs for class. I went down to her room letting her know that she needed to go upstairs for class. She told me that she didn't want to go to class. I told her that she needed to go upstairs. She told me she wasn't going to go if we weren't doing something fun. I told her then she could stay in her room. She didn't like that and that she didn't want to go because she always gets in trouble and people always lie about her. At that point she was yelling and become very angry. I let Ty (who was working the desk) know that Corrine would be staying in her room. Corrine had at that point come out of her room to which I went and asked Ty if she could let Corrine know she needed to stay in her room. Corrine became even more angry stomping all the way to her room. &lt;br /&gt;       In a strange way her behaviour was a blessing because the younger kids were learning about emotions so they were able to see Corrines behaviour and talk about how she was upset and how sometimes when we are upset we need to be by ourselves to cool down. God definately used the situation. Later on in the evening Corrine came and apologized to me for her behaviour. I had a talk with her about the way she had been behaving and how we can't help what other people do or say. We can only help what we say and how we behave. We talked about how when she gets angry or when someone is picking on her that she needs to walk away, tell the supervisor on duty, and take time to herself. Hopefully that will help her work out her emotions. I know that being homeless and staying at the mission is really getting to her. It's difficult living in your own home with brothers and sisters let along living at the mission with not only your brother and sister but 18 other kids. It is experiences like tonight that allow me to see a little into the hurting world of homelessness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is teaching me so much that sometimes it's hard to take it all in. I am learning so much about other people, about myself, about life, about God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably won't update again until Saturday when I get done working my overnight shift. I will leave you with this video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://godtube.com/flvplayer.swf" FlashVars="viewkey=51c22b9035a2b4fe76b0" wmode="transparent" quality="high" width="330" height="270" name="godtube" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-524974924324945447?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/524974924324945447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=524974924324945447' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/524974924324945447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/524974924324945447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/motivation.html' title='Motivation'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7108015612886114621</id><published>2008-09-16T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T20:03:45.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Ok</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"I just wanna be okay&lt;/strong&gt;, be okay, be okay&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna be okay today&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna be okay, be okay, be okay&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna be okay today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just wanna feel today&lt;/strong&gt;, feel today, feel today&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna feel something today&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna feel today, feel today, feel today&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna feel something today&lt;br /&gt;Open me up and you will see&lt;br /&gt;I'm a gallery of broken hearts&lt;br /&gt;I'm beyond repair, let me be&lt;br /&gt;And give me back my broken parts"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I almost had a break down in front of the kids. We have a group come every third Tuesday night that have a game night with the lady residents. That means that I  need to provide childcare. Since I am the only one that does this I ususally just have the kids watch a movie. I already knew it was going to be a difficult time considering the time I had last night with the kids. The first 30 minutes of the movie I just wanted to cry. The tears were forming in my eyes but I just told myself that I would cry once I got back to my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But God is so good because by the end of the night I didn't feel like crying. I actually can't cry right now even if I tried. I know that it was God because the night didn't really get any better. I mean the kids did quiet down but they still weren't following directions. I just didn't need to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read something today during my time with God from this book that is transforming my heart, &lt;u&gt;Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I realized then, that while there are many things that need to be done, thing I'm capable of doing and want to do, I am not always the one to do them. Even if I have a burden for a certain need or project, my intrest or concern is not a surefire sign that I need to be in charge. God may only be calling me to pray that the right person will rise up to accomplish it. What's more, I may be stealing someone else's blessing when I assume I must do it all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I cannot do everything, I can do "one thing."&lt;br /&gt;I cannot meet every need, but I can respond in obedience to the need the Spirit lays on my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot carry every load, but I can carry the load God has for me.&lt;br /&gt;For his yoke, indeed, is easy, and his burden is truly light."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything about God is beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7108015612886114621?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7108015612886114621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7108015612886114621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7108015612886114621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7108015612886114621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/be-ok.html' title='Be Ok'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6447848105105618193</id><published>2008-09-15T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T07:57:48.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And time stands still</title><content type='html'>So I haven't posted since Friday and that is because it has been a LOONNNGGG weekend. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday we had a group here well actually they got here Friday night around 9ish. They did an amazing job while they were here Saturday and Sunday working!!! But anyways, Saturday I was only suppose to work until 9 but really I ended up working until 5 because I helped the group with the kids. It was difficult and stressful and tired. About 2 hours before dinner I put in a movie for the kids and said see yall later and I peaced out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went and got ready to go to the Black Sheep for the Pound for Pound release show. Let me tell you I was not in a good mood, mainly because I was tired and just felt icky. So I wasn't very talkative. The show went really well I mean besides the one band that was smoking pot in the alley and talking about raping and using dirty language or and besides the two drunk girls that were trying to start fights. Other than that is was a pretty good show. I'm laughing to myself as I think about the night. After the show was over I cleaned up as usual. Once again Kevin told me I didn't have to do that. Now I think me being in not such a good mood and tired and probably a bit emotional just you know because I'm a girl and I can be somehow allowed me to grow some "balls" for the moment. Because I told Kevin to stop saying I don't have to clean. I know I don't have to clean. And I told him it really doesn't do much good to say it after I've already done it. I also told him that he should realize by now that I'm going to do it anyways so he should just deal with it and stop telling me I don't have to do it. Where all this came from I'm not really sure...well ok so that was a lie...I know where it all came from. It all came from my bottled up frustration at the situation. After I said all that he told me something about how he forgets a lot of things and I said oh yeah that's right you have a bad memory. Him and I have talked about this before, him not having a good memory. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really wanted to say to him...Oh so that's why you forgot that I wanted to be friends with you. Oh that's why you forget to talk to me. Oh that's why you forgot that Ashley told you to ask me out. Oh that's why you forgot that I imply that I like you. Oh that's why...because you have a bad memory. Gotcha! (I didn't say any of that for the record)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think he may have been taken back by what I said. I don't know. Anyways when the show was over Jeff invited me to go to La Bambas with all of them. Really I think this was a God thing because I mean really it just was. I've been praying that God would open up some kind of door and really that's what he did. So I went to La Bambas with them and it was a great time. So when we were at La Bambas I over heard, I wasn't trying to listen really I wasn't it kinda just happened, Kevin's friend say to him who are you texting, the church babe? It was like 12:30ish in the morning. That's cool. So basically we found out he went on a date with a girl from his church. I mean really my first thought was, I can't compete with a girl from his church, there's no way. I mean not that I was really worried about it. God quickly calmed my heart and just gave me this sense of peace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY ME!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I turned 23 yesterday. It was a pretty great birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I woke up late for church so I had to rush to get there. Meghan and Ashley took me out to Panera for my birthday. Funny story at Panera. Meghan was talking about her friend Kevin and then all of the sudden she asked me if I wanted to get a tattoo. And well I did but I didn't know if I had enough money to get one. So she called her friend Kevin who works at New Age to see how much it would be. We all ended up going out there to talk to him about what we wanted cause Ashley wanted something too. Kevin ended up tattooing all three of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes that is correct, I got a tattoo. I know crazy right. I really love it and I'm so happy I got it even though my mom told me I will never be able to get a job now that I have it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/SM6mmxV46vI/AAAAAAAAABo/Vm56uZXsvYY/s1600-h/HPIM3401.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/SM6mmxV46vI/AAAAAAAAABo/Vm56uZXsvYY/s1600-h/HPIM3401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246313800943594226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/SM6mmxV46vI/AAAAAAAAABo/Vm56uZXsvYY/s320/HPIM3401.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/SM6nOZlJcCI/AAAAAAAAABw/WnkO4pCf478/s1600-h/HPIM3403.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246314481759907874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/SM6nOZlJcCI/AAAAAAAAABw/WnkO4pCf478/s320/HPIM3403.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry these aren't the best pictures but at least you guys get the idea. The first one says "He must become greater" and the second one says "I must become less" it comes from John 3:30. I still am in disbelief that I actually got them done. I've been looking at my arms a lot today and sometimes I wonder if it will rub off. It won't. I just think it is so beautiful and powerful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so after we all got out tattoos I had to rush back to take a shower, you know since I woke up late and didn't have time to shower and head to bible study at the Black Sheep. I won't lie I was a little nervous about going. I thought with how funny God is it would be just Kevin and I there. Oh dear would that have been something. But God is funny and good all at the same time. So instead of just Kevin and I it was the two of us and Jeremy and Erica. After I got there my nerves flew out the door and I was all me baby!! I talked quiet a bit and ever time I did I tried not to make too much eye contact with Kevin or look at him cause I didn't want it to be weird. But that's the type of person I am I'm an eye contact look at you when you're talking kind of gal. God was so there for our discussion. Everyone had great things to say and I'm really excited to see where God takes things every week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay so Bible study got over and we all left...but really I didn't leave because when I walked outside I thought to myself, I wonder when Kevin is going to clean the Black Sheep...cause I mean it needs cleaned real bad and not just cleaned I mean it needs CLEANED. So what do I do, I go back in there and start talking to Kevin about it. What?!!? Who am I going back to talk to the guy I'm totally intrigued by who doesn't even know I'm alive. Crazy I know. But like I said earlier not only is God good but I also was pretty ballsy that night. I asked him when he was going to clean and he said probably Tuesday before the show. Well Tuesday we have women in motion coming to the mission so I can't really go in early to clean cause I have to be at the mission to watch the kids. So I asked him if he could wait until Wednesday cause I mean really what's one more day. The Black Sheep has needed cleaning for I don't know since I've been helping out there so almost 3 months. I don't really think one more day is going to wreck the place. But I Kevin likes his alone time at the sheep to clean or whatever he does. Anyways I told him I would clean on Wednesday. He said he wasn't going to be there Wednesday but he could let me in (totally a God thing). So Wednesday I am going to CLEAN the Black Sheep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after that discussion Kevin locked up and we left the Black Sheep but we talked outside first??!!? What is going on here? Oh, God is going on here, ok, that's cool, I'm down with that. I mean cause really it's totally God working. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want you all to know that in those moments I felt like time stood still. God is so good. It's like everytime I get discouraged and want to throw in the towel and give up on the whole Kevin situation God reminds me that I need to just be patient and wait and trust in him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;**just a little extra, while Kevin and I were talking outside the Black Sheep he said something about a girl he'd hung out with a few times from Church and was talking about her political views and I don't know something about him not really feelin' them or not being on the same page or something like that but I instantly thought I wonder if this is the "church babe" and I'm going to let myself think it is. Because in that very moment I felt like God swooped down to earth and craddled my heart in his hand. Telling me that he is working and that there is no need for me to worry over anything. God is more than I am worth.**&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God continues to change me everyday and he continues to both break and transform my heart. He truly is more than I am worth but yet he still is there for me despite my dirty broken life. As difficult as it is to be patient and allow God to work and move in my life and the lives of those around me (coughkevincough) I know that he is working and moving and I know that in the patience and struggle he is changing me. In His beauty time stands still.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blessings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s. I can't believe I almost forgot to write about this. I pretty much had a mini panic attack in the middle of the night. It was if I could feel Satan trying to attack me in my dream. I can't remember the whole dream now but I remember the basics. I really should have written in down but at the time I just kept replaying it in my head and trying to breath. I should say before I type what I do remember of the dream that I wasn't scared or worried about what happened in the dream that's not where the panic attack came from. I think the panic attack was because I know that the dream was a wrestle between light and dark. Ok so this is as much as I can remember Kevin and I were somewhere I think at the Black Sheep or something I'm not sure. Well anyways we were talking about something, I can't remember but all of the sudden Kevin says something, then I say something, then Kevin says something again and then all of the sudden he runs back to somewhere, a room or something. But it was like he was running because of whatever he said to me, like it was going to hurt me or like he didn't really want to say it or something I don't know. So I go back there to see what was wrong. (You can totally tell this is a dream) I'm like Kevin what is the deal what is going on why did you leave so fast or something like that. And he says a bunch of stuff and then says something about the girl from church Julie (really I'm sure that is a made up name but that's the name that was in my dream, if her name really is Julie then I will be freaked out beyond all things) I don't really remember what he was saying about her something about the girl he's been dating from church or something. That's pretty much all I really remember from the dream. Then I woke up with my heart racing and trying to catch m breath. Now that I've written all that I realize that the reason I was having the panic attack is because I really thought it was real. I didn't think it was a dream. I remember when I woke up thinking oh my gosh how do I handle things now that this has happened. It took me a few moments to realize it wasn't real that it was a dream. I mean it felt so real it was creepy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really just need to pray about it all. Cause the devil knows that I've given it all over to God and he doesn't like that so he's playing dirty trying to use anything and everything to break me down. But I have news for him, "AINT NOBODY GONNA BREAK ME DOWN, OH NO, I GOT TO KEEP ON MOVIN'"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.p.s. this blog has taken me like 4 hours to write&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Webdings;color:#0066cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Webdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6447848105105618193?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6447848105105618193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6447848105105618193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6447848105105618193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6447848105105618193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-time-stands-still.html' title='And time stands still'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/SM6mmxV46vI/AAAAAAAAABo/Vm56uZXsvYY/s72-c/HPIM3401.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8655522050429416114</id><published>2008-09-14T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:26:21.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to you</title><content type='html'>Today is my birthday. I am 23 years old! After church today as Ashley, Meghan and I were sitting at Panera Meghan asked if I wanted to get a tattoo. It was totally random but I was like actually I do. I didn't think I had enough money but it turns out that Meghan's friend works at New Age and it would only cost $50. So I got one on each forearm. My left forearm says "He must become greater" and my right forearm says "I must become less."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pauletta Douglas moved back into the mission today. She uses to liver here years ago. I always hope the second or third time around that people are at ICM, that that will be the time that somethint sticks. Let's hope this is the time that sticks with Pauletta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8655522050429416114?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8655522050429416114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8655522050429416114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8655522050429416114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8655522050429416114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-birthday-to-you.html' title='Happy Birthday to you'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-889943576302203219</id><published>2008-09-14T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:28:18.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Fight</title><content type='html'>Cake was made around snack time. Once the kids had gotten their cake Sherrie and Mike left their six kids unattended. The Griffith kids started thrown food. After that everyone started arguing. Kathy was upset she up had clean it up although Candance told her not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gary and Mike eneded up arguing later on in the night about the n&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-889943576302203219?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/889943576302203219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=889943576302203219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/889943576302203219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/889943576302203219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/food-fight.html' title='Food Fight'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8049333592485341346</id><published>2008-09-13T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:22:11.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow is my birthday!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ulanda asked Candace if she could go to church tomorrow. Candance told her no because she was on level 4 restriction. Ulanda then told Candace that her aunt was in the hospital with only a little while longer to live. Candance asked Ulanda why she didn't inform Becky or Scott about this. Ulanda decided to go instead of waiting to talk to Becky or Scott.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it that makes people continue going back to the poor choices they make?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8049333592485341346?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8049333592485341346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8049333592485341346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8049333592485341346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8049333592485341346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/birthday.html' title='Birthday'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4182137680990524774</id><published>2008-09-12T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T22:35:43.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed curse</title><content type='html'>I love kids. And I mean I guess I better considering I'm the children's coordinator at a homeless shelter. I mean kids kinda come with the job. But sometimes I just get up to my neck in kids and have no where to go. I think my problem is I spoil the kids with time too much. I know that sounds weird. But they know whenever I'm around or whenever I'm working the overnight we'll be doing something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example the past two overnights I'm done we've either colored, listened to music or read books in the shelter office. Now tonight was the same as any other overnight...except for this stupid rain which makes me just feel blah. The kids get home from school and those that have homework I have come into the office so we can get their homework finished before dinner.&lt;br /&gt;We have a group from Indiana coming tonight for the weekend so I know that if the kids don't get their homework finished tonight it will not get finished until late Sunday evening. Brittany, Emily, and Corrine were the only kids that had homework. Brittany and Emily were the only ones that did their homework and got it finished before dinner. Corrine didn't want to do hers. And her parents didn't make her.&lt;br /&gt;Overrall the night went well. I enforced my power as shelter supervisor and declared an 8pm bedtime for all kids. Not because they were doing anything wrong but because sanity was needed for all. I had kids in and out of the office all night. They all wanted to read a book or draw or watch a movie. I think Friday is one of the hardest shifts to work with the kids.&lt;br /&gt;Because they know it's the weekend and they won't school tomorrow. So they are super ready for fun fun fun.&lt;br /&gt;The group ended up getting here at like 9 something. It's going to be a real blessing having them here this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to get my headlight fixed tomorrow. I'm also taking Christina to get her medicine. It's 12:30ish I'm off to bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessings&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4182137680990524774?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4182137680990524774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4182137680990524774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4182137680990524774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4182137680990524774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/blessed-curse.html' title='Blessed curse'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3087905423646077614</id><published>2008-09-11T23:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:18:41.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No show</title><content type='html'>A few days ago when Ulanda said she was in the hospital was a piece of malarkey. Ulanda was out with ther boyfriend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3087905423646077614?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3087905423646077614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3087905423646077614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3087905423646077614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3087905423646077614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/no-show.html' title='No show'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2027331881218740755</id><published>2008-09-11T19:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:58:58.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled pandemonium</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HksE-7aYmIw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HksE-7aYmIw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometimes I feel like the chicken in the video above. Running around all over with my head cut off. But even though my heads cut off I keep on going a mile a minute. Actually if you could just pretend for a moment that I was the chicken in this video that would be great. Because that's pretty much how I felt today. And really I'm not even sure why. When I found this video I thought "This is perfect" I mean really with the people laughing in the background and all. It fits perfectly. I guess I was ok for most of the day. I mean I really didn't do anything. I actually slept in for once. I woke up about 8 something and once I got ready I just sat around and did nothing. I haven't done that once since I've lived in Springfield. I ended up leaving around 4 to get my headlight fixed at Walmart. You will never believe how long I was going to have to wait to get it fixed. &lt;strong&gt;2 flippin' hours!!!&lt;/strong&gt; I really didn't have that kind of time since we had class tonight. So I'll have to get it fixed tomorrow morning before I have a work. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Class tonight went well. But for some reason I just felt out of it. I always feel unprepared no matter how prepared I am. It's just really ridiculous. But on a great note I had 11 volunteers tonight!!! That is a true blessing. Now we may actually be able to do something in classes. It's pretty much 10pm and I need to go to bed seriously. I'm going to try and get up a ride my bike in the morning and then get my headlight fixed before work. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Until tomorrow...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Blessings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2027331881218740755?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2027331881218740755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2027331881218740755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2027331881218740755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2027331881218740755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/untitled-pandemonium.html' title='Untitled pandemonium'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-193757968025327007</id><published>2008-09-11T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T11:55:51.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mystery's Life Blog</title><content type='html'>As I said in my last blog I have decided what I want to do upon graduation. I'm actually glad I didn't post this last night because I have been looking into all the different options and I'm not going to do what I originally thought I was. Thanks to Melissa Wheeler and her introduction of Teach For America to me I have now decided that I am going to apply for Teach For America. The first deadline for the fall 2009 school year is September 19th. I won't be able to make the deadline cause I haven't even begun working on my essays for the application. I mean obviously since I just decided it was what I am going to do. They have 4 differnt deadlines for the application process. I am shooting for the second deadline which is November 7th. So that will give me plenty of time to write the essays and talk with some people about references. I really feel good about this decision. I just have to put trust in God that I will get accepted. I think one reason I like Teach for America so much is because it's basically like the Peace Corps but only in the States and I'll be teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't lie I am a little nervous about the training process once you're accepted. It's pretty intense. But then again I mean it has to be. I decided that whenever I apply I'm not going to select a regional preference. I'm just going to let the good Lord take me wherever he wants. I need to set up a time with Rob and Mike to talk with them about this. I don't think I'm really going to tell anyone about this or talk about it that much until the deadlines get closer. I will outline the deadlines for you below&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*November 7th is the second deadline for the first part of the application&lt;br /&gt;*Novermber 13 we are to check online to see if we have been selected for a phone interview&lt;br /&gt;*Novermber 15-18 (if selected) participate in a 30 minute phone interview&lt;br /&gt;*Novermber 24 check online to see if selected for a final interview&lt;br /&gt;*December 5 submit regional subject/grade preferences, submit transcript information, last day for online recommendation forms to be sent in&lt;br /&gt;*December 9-11 attend a day long final interview&lt;br /&gt;*January 20 check online for acceptance status and region subject/grade placement&lt;br /&gt;*January 20-Feburary 2 learn about the assignment and make a decision&lt;br /&gt;*Feburary 2 accept or decline offer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was just going to go with sending the application in on the 4th deadline but after reading more I realize that sending it in as soon as possible will be more beneficial in the end. It will give me more time to prepare.&lt;br /&gt;So basically shortly after my internship if finished I will know whether or not I will be accepted into Teach for America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To go back to the subject of placement, the reason I have decided that I do not want to be selective in my placement is because the devil is using the issue of placement to scare the crap out of me. I think why I've been held back in a lot of things I want to do. I know it's one of the reason I was hesitant about the Peace Corps...which by the way I still want to do.&lt;br /&gt;I just keep thinking what if I'm in a realtionship right before the time I'm getting ready to leave. I mean I have no idea what will happen in the next 4 months. So then I start to think ok well maybe I should try to be place in like the St. Louis, Kansas City, Chicago region. Cause I mean that's faily close to the Springfieldish area. But you know what I'm not going to let that stop me. Because honestly if I let that determine my decision for things I will never do anything, I will never go anywhere. And I will never change anything or anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this has nothing to do with what I was writing above but it does have to do with something I wrote about yesterday. Just for the record I do not like Craig Aronld in any type of romantic way what so ever. There were some people who couldn't believe that I wrote that I had a "crush" on his in my blog. I don't really see what the big deal I mean it's not like tons of people read this blog anyways. (Shout ou to Jess, Megan, and Morgan, HOLLA!!!) And besides I wouldn't care if everyone from LCC read this. I have nothing to hide. I just thought it was funny when I told people about it. Like it was some huge secret that I had just revealed to the world via my online blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a band that I am friends with on myspace and every morning they post a new quote. Today's quotes says: "You call it madness, but I call it love"-Don Byas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is almost 2 and I haven't done really anything all day. We have class later on tonight so I will have to work then but as for right now I am resting. I need to go get my headlight fixed. I got pulled over last night because it was out. I had no idea...I mean how could I. I really couldn't cause I mean I'm in the car not outside. But I guess that's why we have cops. So I need to go to Walmart and see if they can change that cause I will need it fixed so I can drive in the night time. What else do I need to do..I need to go to the bank and deposit a check. I pretty much have no money. I'm not sure where all of it went. Well I guess I did have to pay rent and I tithed and I bought some stuff on itunes and I bought curriculum books...so I mean I guess that's where it all went.&lt;br /&gt;I have to work the overnight tomorrow. We have a group coming tomorrow nigth I think to work this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;I kinda want to take a nap. even though I'm not really tired.&lt;br /&gt;I found out we aren't actually having class until 7:30 so my volunteers will be here in plenty of time for class. Well I mean that's not why we aren't having class until then. Some of the parents have an open house for their kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what I am going to take a nap. Well actually I'm going to watch something on my ipod and possibly fall asleep, then get my headlight fixed, then go to the bank, then get ready for class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days are good but God is better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessings&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-193757968025327007?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/193757968025327007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=193757968025327007' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/193757968025327007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/193757968025327007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/mysterys-life-blog.html' title='Mystery&apos;s Life Blog'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-584544029630645835</id><published>2008-09-10T06:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T06:49:06.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What happened to Tuesday?</title><content type='html'>Monday night was our first night of classes at the mission.&lt;br /&gt;I had five volunteers which was really nice considering last semester I didn't really have any.&lt;br /&gt;We had all the kids except for Matthew (because he went to the hospital) and Emily (because she fell asleep in her room). We watched the veggie tales movie Jonah. Some of the kids had seen it but most of them hadn't. I wasn't really able to watch the movie cause I was running back and forth making popcorn and putting kids in timeout. I think we had five different kids in timeout. Not at one time but collectively throughout the night. The night went really well and I was thankful for the volunteers!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the class was over and the volunteers had left Corinne, Emily, and Ian had to finish (**cough start) their homework. Emily didn't have much homework. She only had math which she was pretty much finished with. She just needed to finish a couple problems. I checked her work when she was done and had her fix the few mistakes that were made. Ian cracks me up. He just started kindergarten this year and I don't ever remember getting homework when I was in kindergarten. But this kid brings home homework almost everyday. I found out tonight from his sister that it's not really homework. His teacher says that he can do this extra stuff if he wants. And believe me he wants to!!! Tonight he had to cut out some squares (I'm not sure why, because we just threw them in the trash) and color a worksheet he had gotten back. Corinne on the other hand had homework. And when I say homework I mean she had reading, math , and social studies. We started with her reading. She had to read one of her books three times out loud. After she was finished with that we moved on the math. At this point it was already after the kids bedtime so I'm trying to push Corinne along but it is difficult because she has a hard time focusing especially that late at night. We got about half way through her math and she just wasn't focused anymore so we took a break from that and moved on to her social studies. Social studies was a nightmare, let me tell you. She just couldn't stay focused for anything. We ended up going in the office because everything else was becoming a distraction. Once we got in the office she started pulling out more reading sheets saying that we had to finish them too. We ended up getting her math finished and all but three of her social studies. At around 10:15 she just couldn't focus anymore and was TIRED so I told her parents what she would need to finish in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up driving to Bloomington after so I wouldn't have to wake up super early since I had a dentist appointment on Tuesday. Tuesday was a pretty uneventful day. I had a dentist appointment in the morning and then I went out to eat with my parents for my birthday since I won't be home on Sunday. I got a video ipod from my parents. I was really excited because it's something I really wanted. After dinner I drove back to Springfield and went to The Black Sheep for the Inhale Exhale show. There were a good amount of kids there for a Tuesday night. After the show I stayed to clean up, like I always do, it really is funny, my life.&lt;br /&gt;I wish my life was a hidden reality show because then I think people would understand the hilarity.&lt;br /&gt;I will try and describe what happened next although majority of you won't find it very funny.&lt;br /&gt;It is Jeff, Earl, Kevin and I sitting at the Black Sheep. I can't really remember all of what we were talking about...all I know is Jeff all the sudden asks Kevin how his date went. I wish you could have seen my face, I wish you could see my face now it's the same face I made last night. It's the smug little smirk saying, "you've got to be kidding me." I couldn't help but laugh on the inside because I thought..."man the devil really is playing dirty but little does he know, I can play dirty too." You see I had already given this whole situation over to God. After the Starbucks incident and reading about worrying and letting it all go...I have let it all go. Now that's not to say that when Jeff asked Kevin that my heart didn't cringe. Because to say that would be a lie. I texted Ben and told him, that was my "freaking out" moment and then I was over because all I could do after that was secretly laugh to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize as I was driving to Bloomington Monday night that I serve a God who raises people from the dead, heals people of cancer, walks on water, etc...I mean raises people from the flipping dead. Like OMG they are dead oh but not really cause they're about to be raised on up. And I'm sitting here, or should I say was sitting here, freaking out because someone went on one stinking date. I felt foolish about the whole situation after that. Cause I mean it was like I was saying to God, "you're not powerful enough to work in my situation. I mean you are Lord of Lords and King of Kings but you're just not strong enough, but really what I'm saying is I just don't think you can do it" Psh this dude &lt;strong&gt;WALKED ON FREAKING WATER&lt;/strong&gt; but he can't work in my life. I AM CRAZY!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-584544029630645835?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/584544029630645835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=584544029630645835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/584544029630645835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/584544029630645835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-happened-to-tuesday.html' title='What happened to Tuesday?'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2428105679838370260</id><published>2008-09-08T22:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:39:09.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Execution Date</title><content type='html'>Veronica is truly blessed. She was given her execution date. She was give a 2nd chance. She is able to stay at the mission. She will need to pick up htsile&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2428105679838370260?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2428105679838370260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2428105679838370260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2428105679838370260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2428105679838370260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/12/execution-date.html' title='Execution Date'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2241234583638441110</id><published>2008-09-08T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:56:36.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Distraction</title><content type='html'>I've decided to delete my facebook and myspace.&lt;br /&gt;I know it's a huge step but I need it.&lt;br /&gt;I also need to journal everyday. I'm not sure why it is so difficult for me to do so. It's not like I don't have stuff to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many things to do that I'm not even sure where to begin.&lt;br /&gt;We have classes starting tonight.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how many volunteers I will have.&lt;br /&gt;I know that God will provide, I'm not even worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get my life together...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2241234583638441110?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2241234583638441110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2241234583638441110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2241234583638441110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2241234583638441110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/distraction.html' title='Distraction'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6519853994651843774</id><published>2008-09-04T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T23:01:40.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Face</title><content type='html'>We filled room #2 with woman names Ulonda Gladney. &lt;br /&gt;Christian is actually on level 3 not level 4.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6519853994651843774?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6519853994651843774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6519853994651843774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6519853994651843774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6519853994651843774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-face.html' title='New Face'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5938328410990233722</id><published>2008-09-03T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:58:21.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1, 2, 3 listen to me</title><content type='html'>Corrine has been acting up again. I feel like we take three steps forward and two steps back, always. When Corrine gets angry or full of emotion she just act out of control. Plain and simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But part of me can understand where she is coming from. Because there are times when I feel like I am taking more steps back than I am forward. That is why I don't allow myself to get too torn up about the kids and where they are at.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5938328410990233722?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5938328410990233722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5938328410990233722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5938328410990233722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5938328410990233722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/1-2-3-listen-to-me.html' title='1, 2, 3 listen to me'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8881067568259067888</id><published>2008-09-02T22:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:49:28.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Restriction</title><content type='html'>Christian is on level 4 restriction. She doesn't get any passes after 5pm. She will be on restricton for 12 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does restriction do anything for some people?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8881067568259067888?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8881067568259067888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8881067568259067888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8881067568259067888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8881067568259067888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/09/restriction.html' title='Restriction'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3274289127438984761</id><published>2008-08-28T22:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:36:21.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One of the ladies that works with Dawnn called this morning and said that there was a little bit of a problem when Dawnn came to get her stuff earlier. Dawnn's case worker is going to come by sometime tomorrow. Her stuff will need to be picke dup by 8pm Firday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3274289127438984761?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3274289127438984761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3274289127438984761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3274289127438984761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3274289127438984761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-of-ladies-that-works-with-dawnn.html' title=''/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3390531172458103782</id><published>2008-08-26T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:30:03.982-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Veronica has called to let us know she was in the hopital. I guess she hasn't been taking her diabetes medicine. Her blood sugar was way below where it should be. That helps explain why she has been so sick lately.  Hopefully she will be able to get some medication.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3390531172458103782?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3390531172458103782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3390531172458103782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3390531172458103782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3390531172458103782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/veronica-has-called-to-let-us-know-she.html' title=''/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5945177975812673187</id><published>2008-08-25T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:23:26.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving onto-pro</title><content type='html'>Dawnn has until Friday at noon to have her stuff and&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5945177975812673187?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5945177975812673187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5945177975812673187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5945177975812673187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5945177975812673187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/leaving-onto-pro.html' title='Leaving onto-pro'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3423406223471715255</id><published>2008-08-24T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:21:23.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pick up a sack of lies at the hospital</title><content type='html'>Dawnn went to the hospital tongiht. I guess she was gone most of the day. I'm not sure if she got a pass to go to the emergency rom but if it looks okie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I for one am finished carrying this sack of lies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3423406223471715255?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3423406223471715255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3423406223471715255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3423406223471715255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3423406223471715255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/pick-up-sack-of-lies-at-hospital.html' title='Pick up a sack of lies at the hospital'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4633459430895860543</id><published>2008-08-23T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:16:42.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Come on back</title><content type='html'>Tim is able to move back in to the mission.&lt;br /&gt;There is drama that is going on with dawnn, her boyfriends, and Scott.&lt;br /&gt;Dawnn was out with her huband and her boyfriend John called the mission. Candance told John that Dawnn wasn't here that she was with her husband. I guess John didn't take that very wel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Dawnn got back she wanted to get a pass so she could go out wth john.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4633459430895860543?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4633459430895860543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4633459430895860543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4633459430895860543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4633459430895860543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/come-on-back.html' title='Come on back'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5045000043396042323</id><published>2008-08-22T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T13:33:53.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Open my eyes</title><content type='html'>God has been breaking my heart in a new way each and everyday for the past two months. More so than I could ever even begin to explain or describe. I feel as though I am in need of more. I am missing something. The chorus to "Give Me Your Eyes" by Brandon Heath have been on my heart.&lt;br /&gt;"Give me your eyes for just one secondGive me your eyes so I can see Everything that I keep missing Give me your love for humanityGive me your arms for the broken hearted Wasnt it far beyond my reach? Give me your heart for the once forgotten Give me your eyes so I can see again"&lt;br /&gt;I want to see what God sees.&lt;br /&gt;Hear what he hears.&lt;br /&gt;Feel what he feels.&lt;br /&gt;Live like he lived.&lt;br /&gt;How many of us are really seeing what it is God has out there for us.Not me.My heart aches for Springfield and Bloomington and Illinois and the U.S. and Israel and Uganda and the world. I don't just want to want to change the world.I will change the world.I will help others see the outragerous amount of injustice that goes on in the worldGod had placed a huge desire on my heart to take a roadtrip to Kansas City to go to the International House of Prayer (IHOP). I'm not sure as of when I will be going but I know that it will be for an extended weekend. I will let everyone know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5045000043396042323?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5045000043396042323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5045000043396042323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5045000043396042323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5045000043396042323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/open-my-eyes.html' title='Open my eyes'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-224801535082797918</id><published>2008-08-21T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:11:41.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>I need to make sure the kids write thank you cards to all the people who donated school supplies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reading a book, &lt;u&gt;Living Justice: Revolutionary Compassion in a Broken World&lt;/u&gt; by James Gates and Jon Middendorf. I'm not sure what prompted me to purchase this book is the fist place. I'm sure that the purchase of this book had to do with it's contents being about poverty and compassion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the type of reader who has to have a pen or some type of writing instrument in hand while reading. I am an underliner, a highlighter, a note taker, a question asker, and a margin writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within the first some pages the question is asked, "Are you American who happens to be a Christian, or are you a Christian who happens to be an American?...What ar eyou at the deepest level?...to which ar eyou most loyal, the nation or the way of Christ (pg. 29)?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just think that is some good stuff. I mean I never thought about that.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a Christian who just happens to be American&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-224801535082797918?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/224801535082797918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=224801535082797918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/224801535082797918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/224801535082797918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7926148735766901614</id><published>2008-08-20T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:58:56.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Pasie</title><content type='html'>So here's the deal Veronica has been slacking on her chores. She doesn't give a crap about them. That is evident in the job she does. Many times she will make excuses as to why she cannot complete her chore. She hasn't been down for Mandatory for a while. Her excuse is that she overslept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott met with her and told her she needed to get her act together so we'll see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7926148735766901614?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7926148735766901614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7926148735766901614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7926148735766901614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7926148735766901614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/lazy-pasie.html' title='Lazy Pasie'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-4460206389689808262</id><published>2008-08-19T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:54:37.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another one bites the dust</title><content type='html'>Scott gave Tim until noon today to pack his stuff and move.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-4460206389689808262?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4460206389689808262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=4460206389689808262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4460206389689808262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/4460206389689808262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/another-one-bites-dust_19.html' title='Another one bites the dust'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7797308262501425057</id><published>2008-08-17T21:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:52:56.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Say What?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>The Riverton group came and brought dinner for the residents tonight. It is always really great when we have groups come. Even if it is just for an evening to cook dinner. I just enjoy being able to see other people serve. I feel like they get it, ya know, like they get what Jesus was all about...serving others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the group was here Tim snapped on Candance. Like when I say snapped I mean like SNAPPED!! I guess it was dinner time and he was on the phone with someone and Candance asked him to get off cause it was time to read for dinner and pray. Well he just didn't like that Candance asked him to get off the phone. So he started raising his voice and talking to the person on the other line saying that he can't even make phone calls here and that we call ourselves a Christian facility but we don't have good Christians working here, meaning Candance. He said something about how Candance shouldn't be able to call herself a Christian. It was just really ridiculous. Eventually he must have gotten off the phone or somehow the issue was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candace was able to talk with some of the group members afterwards. I really do enjoy times like this when we have groups here because then that allows them an opportunity to see what it is like living in a shelter. It isn't always lollypops and gum drops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7797308262501425057?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7797308262501425057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7797308262501425057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7797308262501425057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7797308262501425057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/say-what.html' title='Say What?!?!?!'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6770287508153004235</id><published>2008-08-16T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:47:04.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>State Fair</title><content type='html'>Today I Mindy came up from Lincoln to stay the night. We ended up going and meeting Jason and Seth at the State Fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Mindy and I were leaving we saw Gary getting arrested. Thank goodness none of the kids were around to see. Emily and Corrine had gone to run some errands with Cyndie Mae and Ian was off playing somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess some of Gary's tools were stolen earlier and Candance told him he should file a police report. Well the police report brought Gary's name in the system and he is overdue on his child support. Overdue by $3,000 which is what his bail is set at.&lt;br /&gt;Kathy isn't doing very well, which I can understand. Hopefully he won't have to stay in there for too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;State Fair&lt;br /&gt;I have never been to the State Fair. It was pretty big, but for some reason I imagined it to be more spectacular. It wasn't. I mean don't get me wrong I had a great time. &lt;br /&gt;Actually funny funny story, You will never guess who we saw in the cultural foods area...&lt;br /&gt;I mean really who do you think we would see? Who else but Kevin. I couldn't even believe it. I thought you've got to be kidding me. We talked for a few minutes and then I semi-freaked out cause I didn't want him to think I was dating Jason since I was there with him. It was really silly.&lt;br /&gt;God is funny and I know he must have been laughing at me tonight. We ended up seeing Kevin a few other times throughout the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time we were waiting for ice cream and I was dancing around to the music and either Jason or Mindy said, you know Kevin is behind you. And of course I didn't believe them, I mena that's like the typical line you say when you're friend is making a fool out of themselves. You tell them the guy they like is behind them, but really he isn't. Oh, but really Kevin was...it was ridiculously funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LCC will be starting soon. I am going to miss being on campus. But I'm sure I'll get over it real fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6770287508153004235?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6770287508153004235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6770287508153004235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6770287508153004235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6770287508153004235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/state-fair.html' title='State Fair'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3541578450807236240</id><published>2008-08-15T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:37:19.128-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Attitude</title><content type='html'>Brittney has been developing a huge attitude. For some reason she thinks that because she is 11 that means she can do and act however she wants. She is so rude to her mom and I'm just not going to have that. So I told her if she wants to continue to act like a baby then she will get treated like a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her if she continues to disobey and that if she continues to have an attitude that she will have to stand in the corner. She didn't like that idea very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently something happened with Veronica today. She got upset with someone because she thought they took her straw. She was very angry and said "Who took my effing straw!!!" Now that she has been here a little while she is letting her true colors show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3541578450807236240?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3541578450807236240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3541578450807236240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3541578450807236240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3541578450807236240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/attitude.html' title='Attitude'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3509520263396660253</id><published>2008-08-13T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:22:44.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>words of few</title><content type='html'>Dawnn wants her husband to move in. Right now we don't have any basement rooms available. So that isn't evena possibility. I guess it could always become a possibility if things work out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3509520263396660253?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3509520263396660253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3509520263396660253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3509520263396660253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3509520263396660253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/words-of-few.html' title='words of few'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7510968945051246247</id><published>2008-08-12T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T13:35:26.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I am dirty&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am broken&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I fall everyday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But no matter what...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;His love never fails.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7510968945051246247?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7510968945051246247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7510968945051246247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7510968945051246247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7510968945051246247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/god.html' title='God'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7071564746720839257</id><published>2008-08-11T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T13:39:02.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here and Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I need to share with you a section from one of the many books I am reading.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Two: Without "Outhgts" and "Ifs"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is hard to live in the present. The past and the future keep harassing us. The past with guilt, the future with worries. So many things have happened in our lives about which we feel uneasy, regretful, angry, confused, or, at least, ambivalent. And all these feelings are often colored by guilt. Guilt that says: "You ought to have done something other than what you did; you ought to have said something other than what you said." These "oughts" keep us feeling guilty about the past and prevent us from being fully present to the moment.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Worse, however, than our guilt are our worries. Our worries fill our lives with "What ifs"; "What if I lost my job, what if my father dies, what if there is not enough money, what if the economy goes down, what if a war breaks out?" These many "ifs" can so fill our mind that we become blind to the flowers in the garden and the smiling children on the streets, or deaf to the grateful voice of a friend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The real enemies of our life are the "oughts" and the "ifs." They pull us backward into the unalterable past and forward into the unpredictable future. But real like takes place in the here and the now. God is a God of the present. God is always in the moment, be that moment hard or easy, joyful or painful. When Jesus spoke about God, he always spoke about God as being where and when we are. "When you see me, you see God. When you hear me you hear God." God is not someone who was or will be, but the One who is and, who is for me in the present moment. That's why Jesus came to wipe away the burden of the past and worries for the future. He want us to discover God right where we are, here and now (&lt;u&gt;Here and Now&lt;/u&gt;:Henri Nouwen pgs. 18-19)."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;After reading that I felt a sense of peace come over me. Now does that mean that I will not worry about the past or worry about the future. No, what it means for me is that I now feel God closer to me than ever. I know that he has taken away the guilt and pain from my past and has set the path for my future. I do not want to be blind to the beauty that is everyday. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;These are some photos I took while I was in Africa. Everytime I look at them I can see God, feel God, hear God. He is the beauty of everyday and the beauty of everyday is him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1hZnJpY2E3LmpwZw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/africa7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1hZnJpY2E0LmpwZw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/africa4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1IUElNMjY1NC5qcGc" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/HPIM2654.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1BZnJpY2EwNDAuanBn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/Africa040.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1hZnJjYTMtMS0xLmpwZw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/afrca3-1-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1hZnJpY2ExLTEuanBn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/africa1-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIucGhvdG9idWNrZXQuY29tL2FsYnVtcy95MzUvbXlzc3lsYWxhLz9hY3Rpb249dmlld8KkdD1hZnJpY2E5LmpwZw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y35/myssylala/africa9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to miss a second of the beauty that fills this world&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7071564746720839257?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7071564746720839257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7071564746720839257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7071564746720839257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7071564746720839257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/here-and-now.html' title='Here and Now'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3826568877886744931</id><published>2008-08-11T00:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:57:18.847-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late night conversations</title><content type='html'>Last night after the drunken escapade I had a talk with Dawnn about some things that are bothering her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I am her casemanager I try and make myself available to talk when she needs it. She told me she doesn't feel like some people like her. She doesn't like some of the staff or rather she feels like some of the staff has a problem with her. She also is beginning to feel the pressures of living at the mission with 30 other people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Background info** When new residents come to the mission the current residents initate a sort of hassing if you feel to the newbies. They test them in any way they can. They try and push the newbies buttons to see how far they can get. Really I think they just want to act like they are boss/have senority since they have been here longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really it's not a contest. No one really cares how long you have been here. At least I don't. I don't care if you've been her 10 years or 10 days. I care about the progress you are making in your life. &lt;br /&gt;If you've been here 10 years and you aren't making any progress you don't have any fruit for your labor...I'd say it's time to bounce.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3826568877886744931?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3826568877886744931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3826568877886744931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3826568877886744931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3826568877886744931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/late-night-conversations.html' title='Late night conversations'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3469544617634627717</id><published>2008-08-10T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:52:20.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bike Ride</title><content type='html'>Sarah and I went on one of our first roommate outtings today. &lt;br /&gt;It's funny that we are just now getting use to each other and becoming good friends and she's getting ready to go back to Greenville soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we went for a bike ride to family video.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not exactly sure how far it is from the mission. Probably ten or eleven blocks. I could be totally off on that but I think it's pretty close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess while we were gone or right around the time we came back there was a drunk man on property harrassing some of the residents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The residents of course instead of going inside the house decided to take measures into their own hands.&lt;br /&gt;They decided to call the police, not without doing a little harrassing of their own to the drunken man I'm sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3469544617634627717?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3469544617634627717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3469544617634627717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3469544617634627717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3469544617634627717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/bike-ride.html' title='Bike Ride'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2508647063360831215</id><published>2008-08-09T00:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:48:27.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>School is around the corner</title><content type='html'>School is approaching us fast. &lt;br /&gt;We have a group of people that are making up bookbags for the kids with all their school supplies. &lt;br /&gt;I am excited for the kids to get their bookbags. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always loved school supply shopping day.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why. I just loved being able to get all the things on my list and organize them in my backpack and then when I would get to school I would orgaize it all in my desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the simple joys of being a nerdy child.&lt;br /&gt;I miss those days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2508647063360831215?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2508647063360831215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2508647063360831215' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2508647063360831215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2508647063360831215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/10/school-is-around-corner.html' title='School is around the corner'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6659453442175891553</id><published>2008-08-07T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:19:32.472-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Devotion</title><content type='html'>"I think sometimes I use the written word as a kind of shield, as if the letters on the page could somehow protect me from haivng to deal with people-- or ever God--directly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I confess when I've felt your love for me I've pushed it away, focused on the negatives, let my cynical self drag me into despair of ever finding joy-- when all along it's right beofore my face. Hlep me to resign myself gladly to whatever steps you have for me. Stengthen me by your Spirit to enter the dance with joy. Thank you that when I want to challenge you lead and keep you at arm's lenght."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to much exciting going on at the mission.&lt;br /&gt;I decided to post a passage from my devotion from today.&lt;br /&gt;God is good!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6659453442175891553?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6659453442175891553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6659453442175891553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6659453442175891553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6659453442175891553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/devotion.html' title='Devotion'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5307030786912489855</id><published>2008-08-06T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:25:53.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessings</title><content type='html'>We are so blessed!! We have so many people donating school supplies for the kids. We actually have one group who are providing backpacks and supplies for the kids. It is so exciting, at least for me. School supply shopping was always my favorite time of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donna doesn't want to get any phone calls from the man she has been talking to. Praise God!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5307030786912489855?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5307030786912489855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5307030786912489855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5307030786912489855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5307030786912489855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/blessings.html' title='Blessings'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-5683673859294122537</id><published>2008-08-05T00:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:45:41.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Bursts</title><content type='html'>Corrine has been having many tantrums lately. I'm not sure why. She just can't seem to control her emotions or her temper. I understand that it is difficult living at the mission with several other families. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't understand is how some of these kids seem to think they are perfect and never do anything wrong. Or that the other kids always get away with things. Part of the time I want to say, "Are you kidding me???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess because they are young they see the world a completely different way.&lt;br /&gt;I need to adjust my worldview lens to see what they are seeing so I can better relate to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-5683673859294122537?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5683673859294122537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=5683673859294122537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5683673859294122537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/5683673859294122537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/out-bursts.html' title='Out Bursts'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-7900668857815646772</id><published>2008-08-04T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:21:53.334-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Progress in motion</title><content type='html'>Today Corrine came in and told Jerry that Anthony hit her. She was told to inform a staff member of the problem rather than taking the problem in her own hands and hitting the kid back.I am hoping this is a step in the right direction for her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-7900668857815646772?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7900668857815646772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=7900668857815646772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7900668857815646772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/7900668857815646772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/progress-in-motion.html' title='Progress in motion'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-1950503228979562607</id><published>2008-08-03T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T02:19:31.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Untold Stories</title><content type='html'>I found out a little bit more about Dawnn's childhood. Her dad was an alcoholic and left the family very early on in Dawnn's life. Dawnn's mom ended up getting remarried because she wanted someone there for her and to take care of the kids. Her mom ended up dying and so they were left with the step-father. When Dawnn was twelve her step-father began beating and molesting her. Her step-father was also an alcoholic just like Dawnn's biological father. Dawnn's step-father was not the only one molesting her, she was molested by her three brother too. She finally ended up in foster care for a little while before going to live with one of her sisters. Living with her sister didn't work out that well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just breaks my heart to hear stories like that and around here there are a lot of them. It really does help solidify the work that I am doing her and the passion for people God has placed on my heart. He's got BIG things planned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-1950503228979562607?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1950503228979562607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=1950503228979562607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1950503228979562607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/1950503228979562607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/untold-stories.html' title='Untold Stories'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2359787476793724708</id><published>2008-08-02T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:42:37.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Two</title><content type='html'>Dawnn seems to be doing much better this morning. I'm sure a good nights rest helped her clear some thoughts up. I don't doubt that her crying last night helped as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it's really weird. This summer has been crazy. We have had a huge turn over in the house. More so than I've ever seen. We are beginning to get pretty steady again.All the rooms are full of course, they always are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2359787476793724708?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2359787476793724708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2359787476793724708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2359787476793724708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2359787476793724708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-two.html' title='Day Two'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-6887065124897300736</id><published>2008-08-01T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T00:40:43.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One</title><content type='html'>Today was the first offical day of my internship at the mission and actually I didn't have to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back to the mission today night I stopped by the shelter office to talk to Sarah and she was in the office with Dawnn. Dawnn just found out her "husband" has been cheating on her and that he has found out he has AIDS.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you're wondering why I placed the word husband in quotes.&lt;br /&gt;It's a complicated matter. Dawnn was married to this guy but then got a divorce and married another guy. Well we are just now finding out that she may not be divorced from her first husband. He said that he never turned in the papers.&lt;br /&gt;It's messy messy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways I stayed there with Sarah talking to Dawnn. I could tell Sarah was not sure what she should say or do. I'm sure it helped just having another person there. We talked with her for a bit. Prayed with her. Then sent her off to bed to get some rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-6887065124897300736?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6887065124897300736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=6887065124897300736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6887065124897300736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/6887065124897300736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-one.html' title='Day One'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2454042950617500790</id><published>2008-06-11T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T20:29:27.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Office saved my life</title><content type='html'>So I have been in Springfield for a little bit now and it is not what I bargined for.&lt;br /&gt;It I love everything that I am doing and everyone that I work with but...&lt;br /&gt;I have no friends in Springfield.&lt;br /&gt;I have no heart.&lt;br /&gt;I want so badly to know what I should do once I am finished here.&lt;br /&gt;Am I supposed to stay.&lt;br /&gt;Am I supposed to move on.&lt;br /&gt;God, please guide me through this before I break.&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm getting so close to breaking.&lt;br /&gt;Please open the door to friends that I can talk to.&lt;br /&gt;Open the door to places I can run to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has to be one of the reasons people get burnt out.&lt;br /&gt;They get trapped.&lt;br /&gt;I have to find a place to escape.&lt;br /&gt;It may sound horrible to you now but in the end it will save your life.&lt;br /&gt;I can't find the words to describe nor do I have the energy to search right now.&lt;br /&gt;Lord give me strength. Help me to search within myself. Help me to branch out of myself.&lt;br /&gt;Help me to be myself.&lt;br /&gt;Help me.&lt;br /&gt;Lead me.&lt;br /&gt;Guide me.&lt;br /&gt;Love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been watching episodes of the office online the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;I don't watch t.v. so I don't get to watch the show really.&lt;br /&gt;Watching the show has been a saving grace for me.&lt;br /&gt;The humor and the friendship is something that I need to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Lincoln.&lt;br /&gt;I miss my friends.&lt;br /&gt;I miss myself, whoever that is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2454042950617500790?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2454042950617500790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2454042950617500790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2454042950617500790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2454042950617500790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/06/office-saved-my-life.html' title='The Office saved my life'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-8034558806988418165</id><published>2008-06-01T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T18:19:20.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Springfield pt. 3</title><content type='html'>It will be hard for me not to cry while typing this blog. My eyes have already begun to swell with tears just thinking. I have to get friends in Springfield.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-8034558806988418165?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8034558806988418165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=8034558806988418165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8034558806988418165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/8034558806988418165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/06/springfield-pt-3.html' title='Springfield pt. 3'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-2539335993884803514</id><published>2008-05-30T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T21:56:46.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Springfield pt. 2</title><content type='html'>Today has been one of the most event-filled eventless days.&lt;br /&gt;Today I packed up the last of my things and headed to Springfield to begin my internship working full-time at Inner City Mission. Every day that I spend there I know that I'm that much closer to where God wants me to be doing what He wants me to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I have realized in the past few weeks is that I have a million things I want to do with my life. I have a million things I'm passionate about. A million hobbies. A million things I would like to change. A million lives I would like to help. A million dreams to discover.(Now of course when I say a million I am clearly exaggerating)&lt;br /&gt;On any given day there are a million things I would like to do but for some reason I find myself doing little or nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-2539335993884803514?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2539335993884803514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=2539335993884803514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2539335993884803514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/2539335993884803514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/05/springfield-pt-2.html' title='Springfield pt. 2'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949245375320261895.post-3126908600725473728</id><published>2008-05-29T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T22:42:29.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Springfield</title><content type='html'>In less than eight hours I will be on my way to Springfield where I will live for the next 6 months. It is difficult leaving my family and my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I transfered to LCC two years ago I had to leave my family and friends. But I made new family and new friends at LCC. Maintaining solid relationships with my family and friends in Bloomington became much harder than I had imagined. Everyone and everything was differnet when I came back to Bloomington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was not going to be the end of the world because I had made new friends at LCC. But when I returned from Africa and got ready to start second semester this year I could tell that things had changed. I could tell that we all had changed. Or maybe it was just me. (Sometimes I have a difficult time telling if I am the one who has changed or if it is those around me who have changed, does it make a difference?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am moving to Springfield I fear that the little I have left at LCC will all change. And although I am preparing myself for change that does not mean that the preparation is any easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change is something I have not fully been able to grasp yet. I have accepted the fact that change must happen. I have accepted the fact that through change we are able to grow. I have even accepted the fact that people change. What I have not been able to accept or fully understand is the actual acceptance of change itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I know change must happen, that people change and that through change we are able to grow that alone does not prepare me for the day and time when the change begins to evolve or actually occurs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7949245375320261895-3126908600725473728?l=mysterysalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3126908600725473728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7949245375320261895&amp;postID=3126908600725473728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3126908600725473728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7949245375320261895/posts/default/3126908600725473728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysterysalad.blogspot.com/2008/05/springfield.html' title='Springfield'/><author><name>Mystery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10035392858430811631</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0RDoZS2mqHY/S4QqqTRwuzI/AAAAAAAAAGI/D5BQOqOEhbQ/S220/HPIM4339.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
