<?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-2606994664180790809</id><updated>2011-07-07T14:01:45.428-07:00</updated><category term='home'/><category term='rest'/><category term='Baltimore'/><category term='7 Faves'/><category term='New York'/><category term='pride'/><category term='Esther'/><category term='NYC'/><category term='random'/><category term='quote'/><category term='Love God'/><category term='wilderness'/><category term='music'/><category term='carnival blog'/><category term='winter'/><category term='fear'/><category term='snow'/><category term='book'/><category term='2K9 Maria'/><category term='australia'/><title type='text'>Rescue Me From Myself</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-347479718409755522</id><published>2010-09-10T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T18:40:50.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want to be Available</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Everyone has a plan till they get punched in the mouth."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~Mike Tyson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And isn't that exactly what Life does? Punch your plans right in the mouth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching Stand Up for Cancer tonight and the statistics are just insane. 1 in every 2 men and 1 in every 3 women will be diagnosed with Cancer. Every 60 seconds a person dies from Cancer. Every minute, 3 people are diagnosed with Cancer. I mean when you think about these numbers and the millions of other things plaguing our world, its hard not to become depressed, apathetic, scared, defeated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be easy to make no plans at all for fear that suffering or despair may interfere with your life. But it's what we do when we get punched in the mouth that defines us. Begins to shape our plans. To color our dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sat watching with tears streaming down my face, I saw hope and love. These people took the punch in the mouth and stood for change. Stood for a new plan. A new dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I think about what steps I need to take next in life. I know as well that something will probably stand in the way and change the plans and the dreams and the hopes (I mean it already has a number of times), but I hope that I'll be defined by the way I handle that punch in the mouth. I don't want to be defined by doing nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be available for that punch in the mouth because that means I got in the ring for the fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" &gt;"We can't plan life. All we can do is be available for it."&lt;br /&gt;~Lauryn Hill&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-347479718409755522?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/347479718409755522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-want-to-be-available.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/347479718409755522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/347479718409755522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-want-to-be-available.html' title='I Want to be Available'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2314686121969960809</id><published>2010-08-27T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T19:14:19.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Love or Be Loved?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;The other night a friend and I were discussing love and in the midst of this discussion he posed this question to me. He asked, "Of these two things which one best describes you, the person who always gives love or the one who always needs love in a relationship?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;It took me a whole total of two seconds to answer and I consider myself a person who always gives love. But as I drove home from bowling, I started to ponder this question more and more. It actually kind of started to haunt me. I asked a few other friends where they found themselves in the spectrum of this question. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;One guy said he was most definitely an always needs love and another friend said he thinks he’s both, depending on the type of relationship. My mother says she is also an always gives love kind of person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;So I wonder what the answer to this question says about us? Is one better than the other? Or should we be both? Do we even know how to give love, if we weren't loved in the first place? I must say this question is still haunting my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2314686121969960809?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2314686121969960809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/08/to-love-or-be-loved.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2314686121969960809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2314686121969960809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/08/to-love-or-be-loved.html' title='To Love or Be Loved?'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-3180551833533926634</id><published>2010-05-09T07:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T07:20:41.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm waiting...</title><content type='html'>If you would have asked me six months ago where I would be now, I would have told you Australia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I planned to go there for six months and help with a church plant. I still hope to do that one day soon, but it seems that isn't where I am supposed to be now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while, I was frustrated with God. Questioning leaving New York. Questioning every decision I'd made in the last year. Truthfully, there are still days when I question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a very good at waiting. At being still. I didn't know how to put any of these feelings into words. I just felt really alone. Kind of lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one day during my lunch break, I went to the bookstore and picked up Pete Wilson's &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X95ZsU0-sfE"&gt;Plan B&lt;/a&gt;. "What to do when God doesn't show up the way you thought he would?" Yeah, that sounds about right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've truly enjoyed reading this book. I've even bought it for a couple of friends who are in the same place I'm in. Last night as I was reading and baking a Hummingbird cake for the Mom's in my life. I read this passage that just made everything I felt make a little more sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"The question isn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can you trust God&lt;/span&gt;? Of course you can trust God. The question is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can you wait&lt;/span&gt;? Will you wait? Will you continue to hope in him even when his timing seems all off?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for now, I'm waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-3180551833533926634?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3180551833533926634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-waiting.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3180551833533926634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3180551833533926634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-waiting.html' title='I&apos;m waiting...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-6703979058198204727</id><published>2010-03-05T11:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T12:13:07.747-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Hip To Be Square</title><content type='html'>I was gchatting with a dear friend today about different things that have happened since I saw her last in November. About our jobs, and life, and how excited we are for different things. In our conversation I made this comment about how different my friends are in Tennessee to my friends in NYC...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"they are square in a way that doesn't make me not love them, but square in a way that makes me stand out"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her sweet response, "But that is what makes you special and you know that you need to be somewhere else"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I do need to be somewhere else. Maybe not location wise, but I need to be somewhere else in my life. Not conforming. Not lacking. Not hiding. Being me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are meant to be square, be square. If you are meant to be something else, be that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block; padding-left: 6em;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-6703979058198204727?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/6703979058198204727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-not-hip-to-be-square.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6703979058198204727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6703979058198204727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-not-hip-to-be-square.html' title='I&apos;m Not Hip To Be Square'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-6638628875361250825</id><published>2010-02-08T08:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T08:34:10.318-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wilderness'/><title type='text'>Hard Stuff</title><content type='html'>I talked with one of my co-workers about the teachers we knew from high school. Cause get this my boss is younger than me &amp;amp; was one of my high school classmates. Oh the joys of living in a small town. We talked about the teachers who were still there. The ones who were our favorites. The ones who made our lives miserable. And we came to the conclusion that actually the ones who made life so hard for us when we were teens are actually the ones we learned the most from. They didn't break us. They didn't ruin our lives. They made us better. Made us stronger. Made us wiser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've become an avid sports fan since moving home. Its quite ridiculous. I literally sat and watched seven hours of NFL games one Sunday. BY MYSELF. Cheering and yelling. Angry at every dropped ball and interception. Ecstatic at plays completed. And you can pretty much bet, I'm not missing a guys UT basketball game if its on. Even though, my mom has banned me and my dad from watching them during dinner cause she says my yelling isn't polite at the table. The things that make me the angriest when watching games...missed free throws and fumbles. They are the basics of these sports. Hold onto the ball and when you get a chance to make a shot with no one guarding you, MAKE IT!! Some of these guys are 40% for making their free throws. RIDICULOUS! Its a basic you should have learned and mastered. You are playing college basketball. You have a scholarship. Why don't these players have higher percentages? This is my opinion, they didn't want to take the time to practice their free throws. We talk about how great people are and even let them get by with things because they are great at...fill in the blank. I think the Minnesota Vikings would have been in the Super Bowl if running back Adrian Peterson would have held onto the ball. (and if a few other things would have happened...hello protect Vikings, why didn't you protect your QB?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at Peyton Manning. Yeah he didn't win the Super Bowl last night, but no one can deny the talent of the guy. Or the hard work he has put in to get where he is.  I read something that said he is always in work mode. He watches reels of his past games and of his opponents. He is always learning. Always working through the hard things. Even after the Colts won against the&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;New York Jets, he barely celebrated the win knowing the Super Bowl game was next and he couldn't lose focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this to say, we live in a world that skips the hard stuff. We are overweight because we eat fast food instead of taking the time to cook healthy meals and work-out. We recruit players for scholarships who look good on paper but have no character and end up with drug and gun possession charges. We change teachers if they make us work more than we want to. We say no to the wilderness because it may be hard. We might be asked to do something or give up something or someone that we love. But in the end, its always for our best. It's in the hard moments that your true potential is shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this to say. I'm in the wilderness. Some days I give up. Some days I hold on for all I got knowing God has His glory and my best interest in mind. So for those of you who are going through the wilderness or about to find yourself journeying into the wilderness, know you aren't alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This quote sums up really all my thoughts. Thanks &lt;a href="http://my-mind-online.posterous.com/where-have-all-the-good-men-gone"&gt;Sam&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;"In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful" - C. S. Lewis&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-6638628875361250825?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/6638628875361250825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/02/hard-stuff.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6638628875361250825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6638628875361250825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/02/hard-stuff.html' title='Hard Stuff'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-8856219696839723079</id><published>2010-01-10T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T09:02:56.039-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NYC'/><title type='text'>1 Train, please</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/S0oGMRdwa4I/AAAAAAAAAKo/x1RG0dVdaxU/s1600-h/subway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/S0oGMRdwa4I/AAAAAAAAAKo/x1RG0dVdaxU/s200/subway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425155509037591426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"New York is a city of conversations overheard, of people at the next restaurant table (micrometers away) checking your watch, of people reading the stories in your newspaper on the subway train."&lt;br /&gt;~William E. Guist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drove to church this morning in my dad's Hummer by myself. As &lt;a href="http://andrew-greer.com/"&gt;Andrew Greer&lt;/a&gt; and I sang duets, I wished there was someone to share that moment with me. I longed for the old company and familiar faces I would see every Sunday as we made our weekly commutes.&lt;br /&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/2606994664180790809-8856219696839723079?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/8856219696839723079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/1-train-please.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/8856219696839723079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/8856219696839723079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/1-train-please.html' title='1 Train, please'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/S0oGMRdwa4I/AAAAAAAAAKo/x1RG0dVdaxU/s72-c/subway.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-7752981539376886188</id><published>2010-01-09T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T14:09:15.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New York Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/S0j9qPCtWOI/AAAAAAAAAKg/XHCwnWQ_KM8/s1600-h/nyfam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/S0j9qPCtWOI/AAAAAAAAAKg/XHCwnWQ_KM8/s200/nyfam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424864653201987810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="sqq"&gt;"There are the families we are born into, and there are the families that we choose, our circle of friends. While their faces may change over the course of our lives, the joy they bring us remains constant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-7752981539376886188?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7752981539376886188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-york-family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7752981539376886188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7752981539376886188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-york-family.html' title='New York Family'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/S0j9qPCtWOI/AAAAAAAAAKg/XHCwnWQ_KM8/s72-c/nyfam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2978383191125003485</id><published>2010-01-08T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T14:34:35.194-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carnival blog'/><title type='text'>Break The Cycle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;His mercies never come to an end;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;they are new every morning;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;great is your faithfulness."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Lamentations 2:22-23&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I sat and listened to three very different stories, some involving people I knew and others involving people that I wish I knew. My heart ached for the characters, longed to make the situation better for them. Show them love. Heal their wounds. Feed their souls. Provide for their needs. Shine some light on their pain. Give them hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some times in life, the problem or circumstance seems so overwhelming that we just want to run away. We think no one can possibly understand. We hide behind our fear. Pray we don't end up like whoever came before us as our examples. Cry in our pillows at night. Argue with the ones we cherish and hold most dear to our hearts. Blame God. Fight against the truth. We long for a new start. Things to be new and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Fresh&lt;/span&gt;: novel; different; not spoiled; bright and clear; free from impurity; revived; new; excellent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this world, the newest thing is quickly replaced by the next better newest thing. And the cycle continues. We chase after this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt; idea of living and find ourselves in the same situation, we always find ourselves in. Wanting to run away. Thinking no one will understand. Hiding behind fear. Praying for a different outcome. Crying. Arguing. Blaming. Fighting. Saying to ourselves, if just I had a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt; start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've found the only way to not be overwhelmed by this way of living is to cling to the steadfast love of the Lord. The only one who can make all things new. He's the only one who really fits all those definitions of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt; anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've also come to realize that it's not just a one time thing. It's an every morning living in His mercies. Letting Him guide in all that I do, every aspect, including my relationships. So I may live in the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my prayer for you is that 2010 brings you closer to the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;fresh&lt;/span&gt; start that you've been hoping for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This post is part of Blog Carnival v2 hosted by my  friend Regina…for more posts on “Fresh,” &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://gearsturning.wordpress.com/2010/01/08/day-turns-to-night-night-turns-to-whatever-we-want/"&gt;head over to her blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2978383191125003485?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2978383191125003485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/break-cycle.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2978383191125003485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2978383191125003485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/break-cycle.html' title='Break The Cycle'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-7085026881914707975</id><published>2010-01-03T13:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T13:36:49.511-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire:  it is the time for home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Edith Sitwell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-7085026881914707975?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7085026881914707975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/winter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7085026881914707975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7085026881914707975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2010/01/winter.html' title='Winter'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2969535621430689839</id><published>2009-12-05T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T06:20:58.233-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>It's Snowing!</title><content type='html'>I woke up to a text this morning from my best friend Carrie, "Apparently, you brought the snow down with you"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is I had just looked outside and thought to myself, "Dang it! You brought the snow with you"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess we all have different opinions on snow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2969535621430689839?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2969535621430689839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-snowing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2969535621430689839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2969535621430689839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-snowing.html' title='It&apos;s Snowing!'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-159911619424559720</id><published>2009-12-04T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T14:43:05.262-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Haven't Met You Yet</title><content type='html'>I have all the time in the world right now, but yet I have the hardest time updating this blog. I'm really going to try and get better about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tennessee still feels like a vacation. I believe it has to do with the fact that I haven't gotten a job yet and the holidays. So most mornings, I wake up and my mom has breakfast and coffee waiting for me. I'm enjoying my coffee and Regis &amp;amp; Kelly each morning curled up on the couch next to my Mom with the dogs snoring in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day this week on Regis &amp;amp; Kelly, &lt;a href="http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid22949016001?bclid=51729771001&amp;amp;bctid=53676132001"&gt;Michael Buble&lt;/a&gt; filled in for Regis since he had hip surgery and won't be on the show for a while. I haven't always been a fan of MB. Liked a few of his songs, but when he broke up with Emily Blunt, I just decided I didn't like him. Well he has changed my mind. I don't think I have laughed that hard in a long time. I literally had tears streaming from my eyes from laughing so hard. He was so funny and so sweet. His love for life was just infectious. I decided right then and there that I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then later that night I was pleasantly surprised to see that he would be performing at the lighting of the Rockefeller Christmas Tree. So of course, I was not missing that. Christmas tradition and New York and Michael Buble...perfection. Then he sang my favorite Christmas song, "I'll Be Home For Christmas". This song has always held a special place in my heart. If you read my blog, you know I have a thing about Home and this song always makes me think of all my homes. This year it holds even more meaning to me since I may be home in Tennessee, but I'm longing to be home for Christmas in New York, "if only in my dreams". Michael Buble crooning away with New York lighting up the background and the videos of the military returning from Iraq and reuniting with their families...Geez, Louise...I couldn't control the tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this Christmas season I have found a new love in the humorous, very well dressed, crooner Michael Buble. And I know he's got a girlfriend, but &lt;a href="http://www.michaelbuble.com/media/videos/havent-met-you-yet-official-music-video"&gt;he just hasn't met me yet&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and just for your viewing pleasure, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfDpj39s5lA"&gt;David Letterman's Top Ten List&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-159911619424559720?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/159911619424559720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/12/havent-met-you-yet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/159911619424559720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/159911619424559720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/12/havent-met-you-yet.html' title='Haven&apos;t Met You Yet'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5315495305804995765</id><published>2009-11-13T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T08:19:13.034-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Video Killed The Radio Star</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning at 4 am and couldn't go back to sleep. It was rather annoying and my mom says it has something to do with the medicine I'm taking to clear up my sinuses. But that really has nothing to do with what I'm about to say, other than I was up at 4 am. The only thing on television at that time are infomercials and to my amazement, MUSIC VIDEOS!! Maybe that's another reason I couldn't sleep, I wanted to watch each video that came on. Here's who all made an appearance during my early hours...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alicia Keys - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hxvk3_I4zA4"&gt;Doesn't Mean Anything&lt;/a&gt;: It started with her looking out on Manhattan's skyline with her speaking these words "This beautiful city feels empty. All the people in the world and you can still feel lonely. What's the point of having it all without having the person you love? Sometimes you just need to start again in order to fly." I think she's speaking of a lost boyfriend or some kind of love like that, but for me, in this past year, I lost touch with the one who truly loves me in that beautiful city. But like she says, it doesn't mean anything since you're gone. So sometimes you have to start again. It's my start over. I want to fly again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owl City - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aI4JLa0hbUw"&gt;Fireflies&lt;/a&gt;: All the lights turning on in this video, it felt like the indoor version of lightning bugs taking over on a southern summer night. I was so intrigued. Oh! Plus, there is a Light Brite. I loved that toy as a kid!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyonce - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJVVHYsHSgg"&gt;Sweet Dreams&lt;/a&gt;: This song is catchy and scares me all at the same time. It seems like what fairy tales were really made of before Disney got a hold of them. Or maybe a mixture of the two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor Swift - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6rL7Iy-dKw"&gt;Fifteen&lt;/a&gt;: I love that she has Abigail in the video. The first time I heard this song, I couldn't help but be amazed at the honesty and vulnerability of the lyrics. The video is depicted the way I believe we see things at fifteen (and some times the way I see life even now). We dream in swirls, flowers, and butterflies only to be hit with the reality of everyday life. Have I mentioned, I love T-Swizzle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50 Cent featuring Ne-Yo - Baby By Me: Kelly Rowland is 50's love interest in this video. And I love Ne-Yo. But the thing that got me about this video was the opening lyrics "Have a baby by me, baby be a millionaire." Man, 50 Cent thinks very highly of himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is how I spent my early morning hours. At 6am, MTV quits playing music videos, but VH-1 kept me going till I finally got out of the bed at 7:30am. So when no one is awake that's when the music channels play music videos. I did watch CMA, as well, to get my Country fix, but I'll save that for another blog post one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just leave you with this. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqrogegV1lw"&gt;Billy Currington.&lt;/a&gt; Gotta love the South. And those eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5315495305804995765?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5315495305804995765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/11/video-killed-radio-star.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5315495305804995765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5315495305804995765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/11/video-killed-radio-star.html' title='Video Killed The Radio Star'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-8430475245023316092</id><published>2009-11-12T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T09:12:09.810-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Do You Know Me?</title><content type='html'>I've been at a loss for words lately. Think it had something to do with all the emotions I was feeling and am still trying to work through. So when you are at a loss for words, its hard to update a blog. But I want to try and change that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This won't be profound, just some thoughts I'm having right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why can't we be happy for other people's successes? Let's not all be Kanye's. Let's celebrate.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love John Mayer. I've been waiting for a new album for what feels like a century. But with lyrics like this &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"half of my heart is a shotgun wedding to a bride with a paper ring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and half of my heart is the part of a man who's never truly loved anything"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I love you more than songs can say, But I can't keep running after yesterday"&lt;/span&gt; I will gladly wait. Only thing that makes me sad is that I'm no longer in New York to run into him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pilates kills your abs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm looking forward to a Christmas present/mail from Australia.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being home in my parent's house makes me feel like a little girl. Ms. Independent, where has she gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-8430475245023316092?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/8430475245023316092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-you-know-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/8430475245023316092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/8430475245023316092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-you-know-me.html' title='Do You Know Me?'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2042943326014982208</id><published>2009-11-09T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T14:53:51.614-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Come Home</title><content type='html'>A year ago if you asked me where I was going to live for the rest of my life, I would have confidently said New York. This is my home. This is my city. God had other plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, I packed four and a half years worth of stuff into my uncle's diesel truck with my family and drove back to my home in Tennessee. As we drove away from the city with the skyline peering out at me as if beckoning me not to go, I couldn't help but cry. Not because I would never see New York again, but because I was leaving part of my home in New York.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the months leading up to my departure from New York, there were so many things that I wanted to do, but more importantly so many people that I wanted to see. So many people I wanted to spend one more hour drinking coffee with, one more chance to hug them or hold their hand, one more chance to hopefully show them the love they had shown me. See for me at the core, home is Jesus and since we are created in His image, I can't help but find home in His greatest creation, each and every one of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home has always been something I have been drawn to, something I have tried to figure out. What about home makes us click. So when I was asked to take part in this Blog Carnival post, I was excited and concerned. I love to write about home, but I also knew that it would come on the end of me leaving a place that I thought would become my permanent home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I decided to step down from being on staff at The Gallery Church and pursue my adventures in Australia. I had my plans. The way I wanted things to go. I'm pretty specific when it comes to the details. So when it came time for me to make the decision to go back home to Tennessee, I fought it tooth and nail. It's not that I didn't want to go to TN and be with my family, but that it wasn't the way I had planned it at all. I wasn't ready to leave New York. I definitely wasn't ready to leave my best friend or my roommates or my church family or my Jersey family or my Birds or my neighbors  or my hometown friend or the people I hadn't even met yet. I wasn't ready. I thought God was asking me to leave my home. Leave my people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for a month now I have been controlling my emotions acting like everything was okay. Not crying in front of people, not letting people see how much I was hurting. See how much my heart was breaking. Then something happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an email from a very dear father figure in my life talking about his struggles and some of his running thoughts. These were his words,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;As is my morning norm, I spend time in a ShopRite parking lot crying (sometimes literally) out to God, reading His Word, thinking – and even sometimes I think dozing!&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My recent days have been laden with spiritual battles – some I’ve ignored and lost, some I’ve fought on my own and lost and others I’ve let Him do my fighting while I’ve taken refuge under His wings—and He has won. This morning, while praying, out of ‘nowhere’ but from a gracefully kind Father I began to get this ‘vision’ of The Prodigal Son – Dad and them running towards one another….I felt the Lord encourage me to ‘come home’, ‘come on son, come home. Home is where all is well’.&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was surprised…Had I left home without realizing it? Well, it seems that I may have been persuaded to stray a bit and found myself&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;still ‘ in the neighborhood’&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;but duped and distracted into the mud of worries, anxieties and despair when I could be resting comfortably at home with Dad.&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve usually thought of&lt;span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;the Prodigal son as one who was blind, lost, dead (unsaved). I now see that I can, w/o wanting to, get kidnapped away from home by some real ‘cares of this world’ and I need to return home".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;As I read this email, I knew in my heart I was the same as the Prodigal Son. And it was time for me to Come Home. Because as much as I love New York and I love Tennessee and I love all of you, you are my temporary homes showing me glimpses of Jesus who one day I will be able to sit in His presence and be fully at Home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;*This is part of a blog carnival discussing HOME. See &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://thewordsthatcarrythehope.com/"&gt;thewordsthatcarrythehope.com&lt;/a&gt; for additional participants. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2042943326014982208?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2042943326014982208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/11/come-home.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2042943326014982208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2042943326014982208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/11/come-home.html' title='Come Home'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5191670761513615930</id><published>2009-10-20T15:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T15:41:20.048-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NYC'/><title type='text'>New York, I love you...</title><content type='html'>Coffee is so much better from my one-eyed green monster mug. Its cracked and missing pieces, but it reminds me of the old Gallery office and FAT G's and presents from Starbucks for every holiday. I like this mug's story. It takes me to Boston and surrounds me with loving arms of days I'll never forget. Stories I'll one day hopefully tell my grandchildren of F-U-N, seeing my kindergarten boyfriend, singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat for GMA, cereal in Philly, packed brunches in my tiny apt, SNL lines, the day New York became my home and the day I knew it was time to say goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New York is my love. my home. my family. my friends. my heart. my desire. my dreams. my growth. my weaknesses. my fears. my hopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New York, I love you. You will always be Mine. And I will always be Yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5191670761513615930?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5191670761513615930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york-i-love-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5191670761513615930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5191670761513615930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york-i-love-you.html' title='New York, I love you...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-460447682934134633</id><published>2009-10-11T04:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T04:19:20.379-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NYC'/><title type='text'>New York</title><content type='html'>Manhattan crowds, with their turbulent musical chorus!  Manhattan faces and eyes forever for me. &lt;br /&gt;- Walt Whitman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-460447682934134633?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/460447682934134633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york_11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/460447682934134633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/460447682934134633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york_11.html' title='New York'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-7431926119827627727</id><published>2009-10-04T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T20:53:17.638-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New York'/><title type='text'>New York</title><content type='html'>I wanted to retweet this but it had too many characters for me to do so and give it proper credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you &lt;a href="http://www.lulledbythetrain.com/"&gt;Jamie&lt;/a&gt; for rolling it all into one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="lock-icon" title="Jamie martin’s tweets are protected."&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;"New York. You are like the boy that I loved wholeheartedly but had to end things with. Excitement, heartache...roller coasters of emotions."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-7431926119827627727?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7431926119827627727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7431926119827627727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7431926119827627727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/10/new-york.html' title='New York'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-4714962586859229438</id><published>2009-09-25T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T16:03:24.572-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pride'/><title type='text'>My Stupid Mouth</title><content type='html'>"My stupid mouth has got me in trouble,&lt;br /&gt;I said too much again"&lt;br /&gt;~John Mayer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate seeing people in pain. It consumes me.&lt;br /&gt;I've learned lately that I would be one of those parents who probably never lets their children do anything fun or adventurous, for fear that in the process they may get hurt. Or the mom who tries to fight all her kids battles and anyone else's that will let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to be in control. I like to think that I know what is best. Therefore in my pride, I believe that I can do it better than God. But I tell myself, I just don't want them to hurt. I mean isn't that why I keep my nose in people's business? Why I speak up when I shouldn't? Why I worry about the outcome of things? Why I make plans and more plans in my waiting time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In high school, my brother found himself up against one of the biggest bullies in our town. Everyone was whispering about it. "Did you hear Maria's brother is about to get in a fight?" I remember standing in the hallway as his best friend came screaming for me. In no time at all, I had made it down to the gym entrance where everyone was huddled, pushing and shoving my way through until I broke through the circle and saw him standing up against Goliath. And in that moment, I stepped in. Took control. Became someone who looked like me, but was a whole other person. It became my fight. After a few minutes of me yelling and screaming, the bully finally walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made so many things about me by not letting people fight their own battles. In my attempt to keep people from hurting, I have ultimately hurt them with my words and actions and hindered them from learning some of life's greatest lessons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-4714962586859229438?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/4714962586859229438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-stupid-mouth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4714962586859229438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4714962586859229438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-stupid-mouth.html' title='My Stupid Mouth'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-4978440043955847601</id><published>2009-09-10T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T12:55:03.514-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rest'/><title type='text'>My Prayer</title><content type='html'>"Lord of the Starfields, Ancient of Days&lt;br /&gt;Universe Maker, Here's a Song in Your Praise&lt;br /&gt;Voice of the Nova, Smile of the Dew&lt;br /&gt;All of our yearning only comes home to You!&lt;br /&gt;Oh Love that fires the sun, keep me burning."&lt;br /&gt;~Bruce Cockburn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-4978440043955847601?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/4978440043955847601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-prayer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4978440043955847601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4978440043955847601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-prayer.html' title='My Prayer'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5168008406768681752</id><published>2009-09-08T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T20:34:31.462-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rest'/><title type='text'>Rest...</title><content type='html'>"The best of all medicines is resting and fasting."&lt;br /&gt;Benjamin Franklin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a hard time with resting. With being still. With waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5168008406768681752?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5168008406768681752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/rest.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5168008406768681752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5168008406768681752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/rest.html' title='Rest...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5945775241102646602</id><published>2009-09-05T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T20:37:17.981-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quote'/><title type='text'>The Jersey Shore</title><content type='html'>“The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.”&lt;br /&gt;Isak Dinesen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5945775241102646602?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5945775241102646602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/jersey-shore.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5945775241102646602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5945775241102646602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/jersey-shore.html' title='The Jersey Shore'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-7221252047711131585</id><published>2009-09-01T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T18:34:31.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Help From Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"I believe God is managing affairs and that he doesn’t need any help from me. With God in charge, I believe everything will work out for the best in the end.&lt;br /&gt;So what is there to worry about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Henry Ford&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-7221252047711131585?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7221252047711131585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-help-from-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7221252047711131585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7221252047711131585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-help-from-me.html' title='No Help From Me'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-6748512755481709286</id><published>2009-08-29T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T21:43:57.427-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Esther'/><title type='text'>Can't Sleep</title><content type='html'>For some reason, I can't sleep. I should be sleeping as I have to get up in only a few hours, but I can't. I've been laying here tossing and turning for hours. It's like my body knows I need the sleep, but isn't going to allow what I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or God wants me up. Yeah that is what I said. I believe everything happens for a reason and after doing Beth Moore's Esther study this summer, I am even more certain of this truth. Xerxes couldn't sleep so he had someone read to him from a book of history. (This is my version of the story by the way.) It just so happened this is one of the most pivotal parts of the story of Esther. Haman planned to have Mordecai killed the next day, but during this story time for Xerxes, he realized that Mordecai had never been rewarded for his honesty and loyalty to the king. A reversal of destinies...If you haven't read through the book of Esther, I highly recommend it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow/Today is my last Sunday on staff at The Gallery Church. Maybe this is why I can't sleep...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-6748512755481709286?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/6748512755481709286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/cant-sleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6748512755481709286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6748512755481709286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t Sleep'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5802984559156187122</id><published>2009-08-29T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T13:37:10.915-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 Faves'/><title type='text'>7 Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>July version...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.engagecitychurch.com/"&gt;Engage City Church&lt;/a&gt; - I actually heard about this church plant in Brisbane, Australia in June, but it wasn't until July that God truly began to burden my heart for &lt;a href="http://williamhenderson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Will Henderson&lt;/a&gt; and his family. I'm excited to see how God uses His Church to bring glory to His name in Brisbane. I hope one day soon to see it with my own eyes and not just through updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.cityuprising.com/"&gt;City Uprising&lt;/a&gt; - This movement was born out of the Gallery Church to propel the local church and prosper the city. Through an intensive four-day worship and service experience, City Uprising hopes to inspire resolute commitment to the local church, raise awareness of the need to reach the world's major cities with the love and compassion of Jesus Christ through new churches, and build a bridge into the heart of the city through love and service. I have been very privileged to get to be a part of such an amazing and unique conference for the last two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.housingworks.org/"&gt;Housing Works&lt;/a&gt; - During City Uprising this year, I lead a team of volunteers and one of our community outreach projects was with this organization. Most of our group spent our morning in their basement surrounded by books that had all been donated to the cause of this organization. We helped pack books for mail-outs and do inventory of their entire bookstore. It was one of those moments that reminded me why I love New York so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.taylorswift.com/"&gt;Taylor Swift&lt;/a&gt; - I don't know how I haven't mentioned before that she is one of my all-time favorites!! If I listed all her credits we would be here for a while. I mean, seriously, what hasn't this girl done! And she is only 19!!!! I love her music and I love her &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/taylorswift"&gt;video blogs&lt;/a&gt;! She is a darling! And she should have been on my favorite list months back. Sorry &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wyEAHqkXGQ"&gt;T-Swizzle&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; - For those of you who aren't familiar with Twitter, it's a social networking and microblogging service utilising instant messaging, SMS or a  web interface. My definition of Twitter...fun way to see what your friends (actual and those I have never met before...&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/TaylorSwift13"&gt;Taylor Swift&lt;/a&gt;) are up to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="https://martha.zt01.net/EF/1/ef_google/landing/ef_google.php?gclid=CMfj57TayZwCFRBM5Qod0SovLg"&gt;Everyday Food&lt;/a&gt; - A monthly publication put out by the one and only &lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/"&gt;Martha Stewart&lt;/a&gt;.  This itty bitty magazine is filled with all kinds of recipes. I've enjoyed making the &lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/lemony-smashed-potatoes?autonomy_kw=lemony%20smashed%20potatoes"&gt;lemony smashed potatoes&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/glazed-lemon-cookies?autonomy_kw=glazed%20lemon%20cookies"&gt;glazed lemon cookies&lt;/a&gt; for my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://wearehunted.com/"&gt;We Are Hunted&lt;/a&gt; - This website keeps you in the know on the most popular emerging songs in the world. I don't always like the songs I listen to on this site, but I enjoy checking out the new music. Thanks &lt;a href="http://www.justintimberlake.com/"&gt;JT&lt;/a&gt; for sharing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5802984559156187122?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5802984559156187122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/7-favorite-things_29.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5802984559156187122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5802984559156187122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/7-favorite-things_29.html' title='7 Favorite Things'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-6055658943067283469</id><published>2009-08-24T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T10:11:06.337-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><title type='text'>You Will Always Be</title><content type='html'>I am &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;really bad to purchase albums for one reason or another and give them a listen to and then forget about them. It's until days like today when I let my music play on shuffle that I hear something that makes me stop and wonder who is this and why have I never listened to it before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall&lt;br /&gt; But You go on and on&lt;br /&gt; Hard times come but You remain&lt;br /&gt; The fortress through the storm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; You will always be&lt;br /&gt; Never failing King&lt;br /&gt; Just and faithful, always able&lt;br /&gt; You will always be &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Years will come and days will go&lt;br /&gt; But You will never fade&lt;br /&gt; Things on earth will let me down&lt;br /&gt; But You will never fail  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My eyes may look away from You&lt;br /&gt; But You will never leave&lt;br /&gt; Times I've turned and run from You&lt;br /&gt; Your love has stayed by me"&lt;br /&gt;Kristian Stanfill&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things in my life that are changing right now. Today marks the beginning of the last week of my time on staff at The Gallery Church. The Ramey family announced yesterday that they will be leaving New York to head back Northwest for the health of their family. I'm looking to find a job in the city. My first time really writing a resume and interviewing in the corporate world. Changes everywhere that I turn. But one thing remains the same, my God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a relief! I have been trying my best to cling to my sweet Jesus, as I affectionately like to call Him, with all of me. There is too much going on right now for me to do anything but cling to Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat here in the office starting to feel my shoulders touch my ears as I worried about not finding a job and having to leave New York before it was time to. And what if I wear the wrong thing to the interview that I am never going to get. And how will I say goodbye to all the people that I love and this city that has become my home. All my worries were and are pridefully wrapped up in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful for the reminder that "You will always be". I will not let fear and worry win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-6055658943067283469?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/6055658943067283469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-will-always-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6055658943067283469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/6055658943067283469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-will-always-be.html' title='You Will Always Be'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-4038349331589553837</id><published>2009-08-19T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T17:45:57.355-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 Faves'/><title type='text'>7 Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>Man, I let the ball drop on my Favorite Things post. So I'm gonna have to make up for June and July in this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June&lt;br /&gt;1. Summer Interns - Each Summer at The Gallery has brought new people to our midst and this Summer was no different. Over the years, we have had 32 interns collectively from Mississippi, Texas, Tennessee, South Carolina, Alabama,Georgia, Illinois, Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky, and New York. We had doctors &amp;amp; hospital visits, long days &amp;amp; nights, tears &amp;amp; laughter, rough moments. Having large numbers of people who aren't normally in the office can always be a challenge and will definitely make the volume go up a notch or two, but I wouldn't change a moment of having these people share their summers and their lives with me. My life will forever be changed by each of these special people who have walked in and out of my life over the past four years. I'm excited to see where the journeys lead them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Yoga - I have been trying to make yoga a part of my weekly schedule. It is one of the most invigorating things I have ever done. I always leave feeling like I have worked every muscle in my body and energized to take on whatever is next. I need to be better about making it a priority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.matkearney.com/"&gt;Mat Kearney&lt;/a&gt; - I've been a fan of him for a while, but his new album City of Black came out in June and I fell in love! &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0CzCQFKORM"&gt;Closer to Love&lt;/a&gt; is my favorite song on the album. For days in the office, I just kept playing his stuff on repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://advance09.com/"&gt;Advance09&lt;/a&gt; - This conference that took place in Raleigh/Durham, NC played a pivotal role in where my life is heading now. So many good speakers...&lt;a href="http://www.marshillchurch.org/"&gt;Mark Driscoll&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;a href="http://www.thevillagechurch.net/"&gt; Matt Chandler&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://blogs.lifeway.com/blog/edstetzer/"&gt;Ed Stetzer&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://apps.sebts.edu/president/"&gt;Danny Akin&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://jdgreear.typepad.com/"&gt;JD Greear&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/"&gt;John Piper&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/ConferenceMessages/ByConference/45/3968_Ministry_Idolatry/"&gt;Idols&lt;/a&gt; - No they aren't my favorite thing, but the message Mark Driscoll gave on idols at Advance ranks in my favorite things. "Idols are GOOD things turned into GOD things making them BAD things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Tattoos - I myself have four tattoos, but I am always dreaming up new ones. I think at the moment I have four more tattoos tucked away in my head that I would like to get permanently inked on my body. My brother is going through the process of becoming a certified tattoo artist. He actually did the one on my wrist. Looking forward to the day when I don't actually have to pay for them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Rain - It's not exactly fun when you have to walk through it in New York, but it kept the temperatures at bay this Summer. It also brought some beautiful colors to our city. I think too many times, we get agitated with the rain and forget all the glorious things it does for us. I love the rain!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-4038349331589553837?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/4038349331589553837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/7-favorite-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4038349331589553837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4038349331589553837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/7-favorite-things.html' title='7 Favorite Things'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-7428632926319314320</id><published>2009-08-19T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T05:30:34.777-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='australia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Esther'/><title type='text'>You Hold My Lot</title><content type='html'>"The Lord is the portion of my inheritance and my cup;&lt;br /&gt;You support my lot.&lt;br /&gt;The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me."&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 16:5-6 NASB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lord, in all the chaos and crisis, all the threat and doubt, You caused my life  to work out. Instead of me falling apart, the lines of my life have fallen together. Truly, I can say that You have given me a delightful inheritance."&lt;a href="http://www.lproof.org/"&gt; Beth Moore&lt;/a&gt; version&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer, I had the privilege of going through Beth Moore's &lt;a href="http://www.vimeo.com/1551900?pg=embed&amp;amp;sec=1551900"&gt;Esther&lt;/a&gt; study with some amazing gals. We all go to different churches in the city, but we all came together with a bond to know Christ more. I can't help but be amazed at how God works out things in our lives. These ladies shared in my decisions to step down from staff and to move on to the next adventure in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G'Day Australia!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-7428632926319314320?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7428632926319314320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-hold-my-lot.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7428632926319314320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7428632926319314320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-hold-my-lot.html' title='You Hold My Lot'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-8829499941693612743</id><published>2009-08-18T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T20:08:11.310-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><title type='text'>Letting Go...Life is Waiting</title><content type='html'>"I've been holding on so tight&lt;br /&gt;Look at these knuckles&lt;br /&gt;They've gone white&lt;br /&gt;I'm fighting for who I wanna be&lt;br /&gt;I'm just trying to find security&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But You say let it go, You say let it go&lt;br /&gt;You say life is waiting for the one's who lose control&lt;br /&gt;You say you will be, everything I need&lt;br /&gt;You said if I lose my life it's then I'll find my soul&lt;br /&gt;You say let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it's hard enough to hear&lt;br /&gt;Harder still, to move beyond this fear&lt;br /&gt;We know there's nothing I can bring,&lt;br /&gt;So tell me what do you want from me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But You say let it go, You say let it go&lt;br /&gt;You say life is waiting for the one's who lose control&lt;br /&gt;You say You will be, everything I need&lt;br /&gt;You said if I lose my life it's then I'll find my soul&lt;br /&gt;You say let it go, You say let it go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I love?&lt;br /&gt;What do I hate?&lt;br /&gt;What will I lose?&lt;br /&gt;What will I gain?&lt;br /&gt;How do I save my soul?&lt;br /&gt;What if I bend?&lt;br /&gt;What if I break?&lt;br /&gt;What will it cost?&lt;br /&gt;What will it take?&lt;br /&gt;For you to save my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say let it go, You say let it go&lt;br /&gt;You say life is waiting for the one's who lose control&lt;br /&gt;You say You will be, everything I need&lt;br /&gt;You said if I lose my life it's then I'll find my soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say let it go, You say let it go&lt;br /&gt;You say life is waiting for the one's who lose control&lt;br /&gt;You say you will be, everything I need&lt;br /&gt;You said if I lose my life it's then I'll find my soul&lt;br /&gt;You say let it go, You say let it go"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let It Go, &lt;a href="http://www.tenthavenuenorth.com/"&gt;Tenth Avenue North&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-8829499941693612743?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/8829499941693612743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/letting-golife-is-waiting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/8829499941693612743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/8829499941693612743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/letting-golife-is-waiting.html' title='Letting Go...Life is Waiting'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-1027545787247722866</id><published>2009-08-14T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T09:02:35.744-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='australia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><title type='text'>I'm Hatching Out of My Shell</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The hens they all cackle, the roosters all beg, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But I will not hatch, I will not hatch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; For I hear all the talk of pollution and war &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; As the people all shout and the airplane roar, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; So I'm staying in here where it's safe and it's warm, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And I WILL NOT HATCH!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;~Shel Silverstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's been a while since I have written anything. My life has drastically changed since the beginning of July. I am beginning an adventure that I always feared. I was so afraid of the unknown. So afraid to hatch. But I am choosing not to live in fear anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In two weeks, my time on staff at The Gallery Church will be coming to an end. The emotions I have felt and will probably continue to feel are so overwhelming some days, I just want to stay in bed, "where it's safe and it's warm". That's not Gods plan for me, that's fear running my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm staying in the city for some months. My plan is to get a corporate job and stay here until I can make my way to Australia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no way of finishing this post. No thoughts. I just want to live the adventure of each day. I'm living for this moment. I'm hatching out of my shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-1027545787247722866?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/1027545787247722866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-hatching-out-of-my-shell.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1027545787247722866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1027545787247722866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-hatching-out-of-my-shell.html' title='I&apos;m Hatching Out of My Shell'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2633834539547523313</id><published>2009-06-20T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T10:40:39.612-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 Faves'/><title type='text'>7 Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>May (in June)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sweet Potato Fries - As a child, you couldn't get me to touch a sweet potato. One time, my uncle gave me a carrot stick. I walked around my grandmother's house nibbling on it. I broke down in tears. The carrot looked old and it tasted horrible. My uncle had given me a sweet potato. That memory has kept me from eating sweet potatoes over the years. Then I discovered them in the fry version and I fell in love. My favorite places to get them in New York are &lt;a href="http://www.menupages.com/restaurants/schnippers-quality-kitchen/"&gt;Schnippers Quality Kitchen&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://trailerparklounge.com/"&gt;Trailer Park Lounge&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Utopia - It's a Greek diner on Amsterdam between 72nd and 73rd. It's one of the few places, I will go and eat by myself. One of the waiters knows me and he always asks how my mom is doing in TN. And he knows to bring me coffee as soon as I sit down. Got to love that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Moms - My own is first and foremost, of course, my favorite! Moms who get you because they are in the same boat just a different ocean. Jersey moms who make you feel like you are at home even though home is in TN. New moms who are learning and on their way to being the Best Mom. Moms who are following after God's heart even if the cost is more than they can stand most days. And the hope of one day being a mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/paperroute"&gt;Paper Route&lt;/a&gt; - I'm obsessed with this band from Nashville. Excited to go see them play in July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.kelseyfoster.net/"&gt;Kelsey Foster Photography&lt;/a&gt; - I am so thankful to have the pleasure of knowing this talented young lady. And so honored to call her my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/SummerConcert/"&gt;Free Concerts in Central Park&lt;/a&gt; - Thank you Good Morning America!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://www.australia.com/index.aspx"&gt;Australia&lt;/a&gt; - Growing up, my parents always talked about how they would love to travel down under. But it wasn't until I met some friends traveling through that made me want so desperately to know more about Australia and all its beauties! Can't wait till I make my way there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2633834539547523313?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2633834539547523313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/7-favorite-things.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2633834539547523313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2633834539547523313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/7-favorite-things.html' title='7 Favorite Things'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-1383160318310866623</id><published>2009-06-12T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T09:43:15.238-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>In The Silence Call Me Home</title><content type='html'>Last week, I attended &lt;a href="http://www.advance09.com/"&gt;Advance&lt;/a&gt;, a conference about the power of God's gift to His people - The Church. There were so many wonderful speakers and so much to take in and even more to digest at the end. I am still working through things I heard and the message God has been speaking to my heart for some time now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home has been and is so many things to me. Clinton. New York. Quins. Jersey. MTSU. Gallery Church. Rex, Teena, and Nick. And all of these things are good things. But when we take Good things and make them God things then they become Bad things. They become IDOLS. (Thank you &lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/ConferenceMessages/ByDate/2009/3968_Ministry_Idolatry/"&gt;Mark Driscoll&lt;/a&gt; for speaking God's Truth and for taking us all to the woodshed.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole conference kept pointing back to Jesus. Everything has been pointing me back to Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night as I was riding the bus to Jersey to see my lovely Garvin family and I was listening to the Once soundtrack. These lyrics echoed through my trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the silence call me home" - Jesus, You are my home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-1383160318310866623?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/1383160318310866623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-silence-call-me-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1383160318310866623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1383160318310866623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-silence-call-me-home.html' title='In The Silence Call Me Home'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-9001322307478802763</id><published>2009-05-20T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T13:53:49.152-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love God'/><title type='text'>Romans 12</title><content type='html'>If you know me, you know I hate silence. I can't get still. The quiet and splendor of being still before God is something I struggle with quite often. My mind is always racing. Always dreaming. Not always here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I sat with dear friends, who graciously let me invade their small group for the evening. My main reason for joining them was so I could take part in the LOST season finale festivities. So when it was suggested that we pray for a time, I won't lie, I was anxious to get to the real reason I came. I mean, come on, it was going to be three hours long and after that we had to see who got voted off of American Idol and I was out in Jersey and I had to work the next day. (I know how shallow that makes me look and I take any of the criticism you wish to throw at me. I'm just being really honest.) So as prayer requests were made and not made, Romans 12:12 was stated. The group was memorizing this scripture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rejoicing in hope, persevering in tribulations, devoted to prayer&lt;/span&gt;" Romans 12:12 NASB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B quoted it this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Be joyful in hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Patient in affliction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Faithful in prayer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginny Owens' was played in the background as a time of reflection before we prayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The pathway is broken &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And The signs are unclear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And I don't know the reason why You brought me here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But just because You love me the way that You do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I'm gonna walk through the valley &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; If You want me to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Cause I'm not who I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; When I took my first step &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; so if all of these trials bring me closer to you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Then I will walk through the fire &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; If You want me to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; It may not be the way I would have chosen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; When you lead me through a world that's not my home &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; But You never said it would be easy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You only said I'd never go alone"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God spoke to me in that moment. The prayer time was spent lifting up each of the requests as I kept mine close to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, I met with Freddy for a meeting about growth communities that quickly turned in to one of many I am sure counseling meetings about my own heart and thoughts. He told me to look at Romans 12. I literally about fell out of my seat. He read the beginning verses to me, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect."&lt;/span&gt; Romans 12:1-2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let my thoughts run away with me. I listen when I should be telling myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be joyful in hope.&lt;br /&gt;Patient in affliction.&lt;br /&gt;Faithful in prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to memorize Romans 12 so I am no longer a prisoner to my own thoughts but being renewed in mind so that I may prove what the the will of God is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-9001322307478802763?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/9001322307478802763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/romans-12.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/9001322307478802763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/9001322307478802763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/romans-12.html' title='Romans 12'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-3333616601213417970</id><published>2009-05-16T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T12:30:12.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Let You Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I've spent all this time&lt;br /&gt;working so hard&lt;br /&gt;trying to make ends meet.&lt;br /&gt;what was it for?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know who I am anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a part of me&lt;br /&gt;always wishing for something&lt;br /&gt;that I can't have,&lt;br /&gt;is that the point?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I want anymore&lt;br /&gt;I don't know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you down&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you down&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you down&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you down...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Paper Route&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-3333616601213417970?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3333616601213417970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/ill-let-you-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3333616601213417970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3333616601213417970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/ill-let-you-down.html' title='I&apos;ll Let You Down'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2977452236817588674</id><published>2009-05-09T11:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T12:40:35.039-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='book'/><title type='text'>Same Kind of Different As Me</title><content type='html'>"I'm just messin with you. Even though I'm almost seventy years old, I got a lot to learn, too. I used to spend a lotta time worryin that I was different from other people, even from other homeless folks. Then, after I met Miss Debbie and Mr. Ron, I worried that I was so different from them that we wadn't ever gon' have no kind a' future. But I found out everybody's different - the same kind of different as me. We're all just regular folks walkin down the road God done set in front of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth about it is, whether we is rich or poor or somethin in between, this earth ain't no final restin place. So in a way, we is all homeless - just workin our way toward home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Denver Moore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2977452236817588674?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2977452236817588674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/same-kind-of-different-as-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2977452236817588674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2977452236817588674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/same-kind-of-different-as-me.html' title='Same Kind of Different As Me'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-606080758142233933</id><published>2009-05-08T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T13:21:00.405-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 Faves'/><title type='text'>7 Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>APRIL (in May)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.vitalicious.com/"&gt;VitaMuffin&lt;/a&gt; - One point!! For all your other &lt;a href="http://www.weightwatchers.com/"&gt;WW&lt;/a&gt; minded folks, you know a snack that is filling and only worth one point is hard to come by. They even have brownies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Spring - "It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade." ~Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring has finally arrived. I'm also in my life journey in a spring season. When lived in the light, I am having summer days filled with joy and contentment, but when I hide in the shade of my sin, I find it cold and bitter like winter. But what is that saying, "April showers bring May flowers". I take it all in as a part of the process of blooming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.writingclasses.com/"&gt;Gotham FREE Writer's Workshop&lt;/a&gt; - I'm in search of an outlet. I attended a free Children's Lit and Non-fiction writing workshop hosted by Gotham. The classes were filled with characters and not-so-great listeners. Stories of heartbreak and cancerous journeys to new dreams. I left the classes with two pieces of important knowledge. READ AND WRITE. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Home - I went home for a week to see my Mammaw Davis (great grandmother) while she was in the hospital before she passed away. God has been so gracious to me this year in bringing me home to remind me of who I am in Him and refreshing me with sweet memories of where I come from. From eastern KY to eastern TN, thank you for being &lt;a href="http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/six-word-storythank-you-john-mayer.html"&gt;"home isn't home without you there"&lt;/a&gt;. I wouldn't be me without each of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Quins - These are my girls. My sisters. My best friends. My shared tears, laughters, and fears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://www.alicesteacup.com/"&gt;Alice's Tea Cup&lt;/a&gt; - A pot of Phoenix Rooibos tea with pumpkin and ham &amp;amp; cheese scones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://www.katieherzig.com/"&gt;Katie Herzig&lt;/a&gt; - Singer/Songwriter from Nashville, TN who won me over from the first listen of her album. Then I saw her in Brooklyn at &lt;a href="http://www.thebellhouseny.com/home.php"&gt;The Bell House&lt;/a&gt; and her live performance sealed the deal making her in my top five of female artists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The sun left me so quickly, I am stuck under the moon, I want to belong to you. I pray no one finds you. I'll stay right where I am 'til you come back. Don't let me lose you before there's a chance to begin. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5gOZTHaZDw"&gt;I want to belong to you.&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-606080758142233933?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/606080758142233933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/7-favorite-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/606080758142233933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/606080758142233933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/05/7-favorite-things.html' title='7 Favorite Things'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-7307551987361932134</id><published>2009-04-16T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T20:32:44.141-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Wish That I Was On Ol' Rocky Top...</title><content type='html'>"For time is the longest distance between two places."&lt;br /&gt;Tennessee Williams&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-7307551987361932134?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/7307551987361932134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/04/wish-that-i-was-on-ol-rocky-top.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7307551987361932134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/7307551987361932134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/04/wish-that-i-was-on-ol-rocky-top.html' title='Wish That I Was On Ol&apos; Rocky Top...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-3786592338215102660</id><published>2009-03-29T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T20:05:44.416-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love God'/><title type='text'>Giving Up The Known For The Unknown</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Known: recognized, familiar, or within the scope of knowledge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unknown: not familiar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Who in their right mind gives up that which is familiar (known) for the unknown? But I believe that is exactly what God has been asking of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our staff meeting this past Tuesday, my Boss did a leadership lesson with us. There were math problems involved which freaked me out a little. Okay, actually a lot. I'm not the best at math. It takes me a while to do the problems. There were two exercises: one with addition and one with multiplication. Addition could be thought of as tasks and the multiplication could be thought of as people. It was a great lesson on leadership. But at the end of it, there was only one thing that stood out to me. These two words...KNOWN and UNKNOWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These two words were haunting my thoughts all week. I talked to my mom and told her about the leadership lesson. My only real thought to say was that I cling to the known. I like to know what is going on. I hate change. I like to control things. I like for things to stay the same. I'm a sucker for stability and consistency. Not that either of those two things are bad, but they are definitely safe. I don't like adventure, unless I can control it. I just want enough for the thrill and then I usually stop or go back to my old plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unknown is scary. I can't control it. I have no idea what will come next. It's not stable. Or consistent. It's a movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I cling to the known, I am shorting God what He rightly deserves. Today's message was about Loving God: Our Quest for Lasting Satisfaction. Jeff Getz asked us two questions during the Next Steps. I was halfway listening while I was working on something out in the lobby. Then as he began the second question, he told a story about this guy and girl who worked for the same company. She was a great employee. She was very responsible, always on time, never forgets anything. Jeff said, "You know, she's like Maria." Well, hello! My ears perked up and I stopped what I was doing cause any time someone says your name from the stage you take notice. So the story proceeds like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She noticed this guy at work who had been there as long as she had, but he never got promoted. He moved around within the company. Always having new jobs. He arrived late and would leave early. She thought he wasn't responsible. He didn't have his act together. But he was cute. Over time, they met and fell in love. After a while, he asked her to marry him. A few days before their wedding, she pulled him aside to confess something. She had been saving up money, $12,000 to be exact, and she never told him. She was afraid he wouldn't be responsible with the money. She was holding on to what she thought she knew. He proceeded to tell her that he too was holding something back from her. He blindfolded her and drove her around the neighborhood so she wouldn't know where they were going. When he pulled off the blindfold, they sat in front of the building where they worked. He hadn't been honest with her. He proceeded to tell her that he owned the multi-million dollar company that they worked for. He decided that no one would tell him what was really going on if he was the president. So he chose to work in the different departments so he could see for himself who were the leaders and figure out what was best for the company. Of course, he got to work late and left early. He owned the company, no one would fire him. He told her this was all hers as well. Now the $12,000 she had been holding onto looked silly. She was clinging to the known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat in the lobby of our UWS Gathering fighting back tears. God didn't just use Jeff to tell His story. He reached out and called my name. "Maria, you are this girl. This is your story. Don't you want what's best for you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to say that right there on the spot, I said "Yes, no more known for me!" I didn't, but I have begun to fight this battle. One day at a time of giving up the KNOWN for the UNKNOWN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-3786592338215102660?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3786592338215102660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/giving-up-known-for-unknown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3786592338215102660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3786592338215102660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/giving-up-known-for-unknown.html' title='Giving Up The Known For The Unknown'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-3617932640674226237</id><published>2009-03-21T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T18:20:40.159-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Six Word Story...Thank You John Mayer</title><content type='html'>"Home isn't home without you there."&lt;br /&gt;Les Johnson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This heart didn't come with instructions."&lt;br /&gt;John Mayer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-3617932640674226237?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3617932640674226237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/six-word-storythank-you-john-mayer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3617932640674226237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3617932640674226237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/six-word-storythank-you-john-mayer.html' title='Six Word Story...Thank You John Mayer'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-1754996163351780495</id><published>2009-03-21T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T19:34:53.167-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 Faves'/><title type='text'>7 Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;MARCH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Birthdays - Well my birthday is &lt;a href="http://www.brainyhistory.com/daysbirth/birth_march_6.html"&gt;March 6 &lt;/a&gt;so of course it would be one of my favorites. But not only is my birthday in March, but a bunch of my friends celebrate March birthdays or late February birthdays that are celebrated in March.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Moms Come to Visit - I finally got the honor of meeting my roommate Jenny's mom. It also helps to understand your friends when you meet their parents. It's cute how we are the images of our parents. My mom came to visit too! I had seen her in January, but I couldn't explain the excitement I felt the days building up to her arrival. And I can't even begin to explain the sadness I felt when i put her in the cab to go to the airport. Here's a rundown of all that happened while my mom was here...Mother/Daughter brunch at &lt;a href="http://alicesteacup.com/"&gt;Alice's Tea Cup&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.33variations.com/?gclid=CJrop6qetZkCFQu-GgodUz6y7w"&gt;33 Variations&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.theaterforthenewcity.net/twocents.htm"&gt;Two Cents Opera&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.latenightwithjimmyfallon.com/"&gt;Jimmy Fallon Show&lt;/a&gt;, Take Your Mom to Work Day, dinner with friends, brunch at &lt;a href="http://www.kitchenetterestaurant.com/"&gt;Kitchenette&lt;/a&gt;, early bird movies, and tons more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sudden Outbursts of Singing - Almost everyone in New York has an iPod and sometimes they just can't contain the musical goodness going on in their ears. And when that happens, we all get to enjoy a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004988/"&gt;Colin Hanks&lt;/a&gt; - Son of Tom Hanks. Now performing in 33 Variations with Jane Fonda. Age 31. Absolutely adorable!! Oh and when I gave my donation to Broadway Cares, he was the one taking the donation. So our hands met. What a magical moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/The_Biggest_Loser/"&gt;The Biggest Loser&lt;/a&gt; - The show is so inspiring! This season's contestants have also restored my hope in people. Yes, it's a game, but most of these people have honestly been more concerned with the main goal of the show...losing the weight even if it means giving up their awards. My favorite contestant is also the youngest contestant, &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/The_Biggest_Loser/contestants/current_cast/mike/"&gt;Mike&lt;/a&gt;. I'm also doing Jillian Michaels Thirty Day Shred. Bob Greene, one of the trainers, is from Tennessee. Wha-what!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Baltimore - It's my sanctuary. I love Baltimore! Great food (Pumpkin Cheesecake French Toast at &lt;a href="http://www.missshirleys.com/"&gt;Miss Shirley's&lt;/a&gt;). Great friends. The best cup of coffee. &lt;a href="http://www.fellspoint.us/"&gt;Fell's Point&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://www.gallerychurchbaltimore.com/"&gt;The Gallery Church Baltimore&lt;/a&gt;. The Tattoo Museum. After two trips there, I know my way around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Kelly Clarkson - &lt;a href="http://www.kellyclarkson.com/"&gt;All I Ever Wanted&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Tell me with so many out there why I always turn to you, Your goodbyes tear me down every time, And it's so easy to see the blame is on me"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-1754996163351780495?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/1754996163351780495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/7-favorite-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1754996163351780495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1754996163351780495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/7-favorite-things.html' title='7 Favorite Things'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-4548455047113270403</id><published>2009-03-14T18:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T18:27:06.924-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Who Says You Can't Go Home...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other.  It is the place of confidence.  It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts.  It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;~Frederick W. Robertson &lt;!-- end body text format, banner ad bottom of page, page information title and format --&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-4548455047113270403?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/4548455047113270403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-says-you-cant-go-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4548455047113270403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4548455047113270403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-says-you-cant-go-home.html' title='Who Says You Can&apos;t Go Home...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-3852993222146815348</id><published>2009-03-11T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T13:05:16.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"A Day Without Sunshine Is Like, You Know, Night."</title><content type='html'>Wednesdays has become one of my favorite days. Why you ask? Well, that is a good question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;My &lt;a href="http://www.gallerychurch.com/growth1.php"&gt;Growth Community&lt;/a&gt; that I co-lead meets on Wednesdays in &lt;a href="http://www.chelseamarket.com/"&gt;Chelsea Market&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love Chelsea Market!! It has quickly become one of my favorite places in the city. There isn't much to do there other than spend money and eat. Oh! And people watch! It is such a sweet spot in the city. Oh! And &lt;a href="http://www.charitywater.org/"&gt;Charity: Water&lt;/a&gt; has an exhibition up there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://stumptowncoffee.com/"&gt;Stumptown coffee&lt;/a&gt; that is so strong it makes my hands shake and makes SallyAnn act silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Because my Growth Community meets at Chelsea Market, I am out and about in the city more. And because I am out walking more, I see more people. Like today, I saw &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1230414/"&gt;Steve Martin&lt;/a&gt;! This was actually inside Chelsea Market, but you get the point.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wednesday, for me, is like most people's Thursday. So Wednesday means one more day till my Friday (Thursday).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-3852993222146815348?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3852993222146815348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/day-without-sunshine-is-like-you-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3852993222146815348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3852993222146815348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/day-without-sunshine-is-like-you-know.html' title='&quot;A Day Without Sunshine Is Like, You Know, Night.&quot;'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-1387971551241164920</id><published>2009-03-06T07:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T07:15:12.172-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baltimore'/><title type='text'>Don't Make Me Wait For My Life To Start...</title><content type='html'>"Good Morning Baltimore" that is what Emily and I will be singing tomorrow morning!!!&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating my 29th birthday in Baltimore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More stories to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-1387971551241164920?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/1387971551241164920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/dont-make-me-wait-for-my-life-to-start.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1387971551241164920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1387971551241164920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/03/dont-make-me-wait-for-my-life-to-start.html' title='Don&apos;t Make Me Wait For My Life To Start...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-726690791315946210</id><published>2009-02-26T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T21:09:32.064-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love God'/><title type='text'>Love God. Love Others.</title><content type='html'>There are times in life when you just don't get it. When the signs are all pointing in the same direction and you keep going in the opposite. That has been my life since September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;It started in early September with &lt;a href="http://www.gallerychurchbaltimore.com"&gt;What If: We Decided Everyone Matters&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rick Warren sharing his vision for the 40 Days of Love campaign in Brooklyn. The notes page was titled "It's All About Love" and the scripture reference Mark 12:30-31 made me laugh at only hearing a message on it a few weeks prior in Baltimore. Then Rick walked out on stage and to my astonishment said, "We need to Love God and Love Others!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For days, I would tell people the longer version of the two bullet points before combined and story after story came back to how their pastor had just shared with them the same verses about Loving God and Loving Others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;There are tons of other times that the idea of Loving God and Loving Others has popped into the most random conversations or showed up in the most random places. &lt;a href="http://www.gallerychurch.com/"&gt;The Gallery Church's&lt;/a&gt; sermon series right now &lt;a href="http://loveandbeloved.com/"&gt;Love and Be Loved&lt;/a&gt; is all about this idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading a &lt;a href="http://madchurchdisease.com/"&gt;book&lt;/a&gt; recently and the &lt;a href="http://www.flowerdust.net/"&gt;author&lt;/a&gt; began to talk about our purpose in life. I was all ears. I wanted so badly to know what my purpose was. I couldn't wait to get to the next page and read what she had decided our purpose in life was. And this is when I walked straight into the direction sign!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What does the Bible say about our purpose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gospel writer Mark records for us God's greatest command:&lt;br /&gt;"The most important (commandment), " answered Jesus, " is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with your heart and with all your soul and with your mind and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself." There is no commandment greater than these."            ~Mark 12:29-31&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELLO!  I nearly fell off of my couch when I read that. I expected her to tell me that my purpose was to, I don't know exactly what I thought she was going to tell me&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; but I know for a fact, I didn't expect to hear Love God and Love Others!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you do when God speaks to you? Cause clearly, He has been trying to speak to me for quite some time now. Do you listen? Do you act on what He has said? Or do you just push it aside and think that was some good stuff God told me and never think on it again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be the listener who acts on what God has so graciously shared with her. That's my prayer...that I would love God, first and foremost above all things, with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind, and with all my strength. So I can then in turn Love my neighbors as myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                                                     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-726690791315946210?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/726690791315946210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-god-love-others.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/726690791315946210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/726690791315946210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/love-god-love-others.html' title='Love God. Love Others.'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2900685623769511251</id><published>2009-02-26T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T07:22:42.849-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A very sweet and dear friend told me the other day that I shouldn't be paralyzed by fears of writing the most profound things on my blog, but just to write a little something everyday. Even if all I write is a quote from someone else. So because of her encouragement, I have decided to do just that. And since Home and the desire to get a new tattoo is constantly in my thoughts right now. Another quote for your reading pleasure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't wanna be adored&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't wanna be first in line&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Or make myself heard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd like to bring a little light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To shine a light on your life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To make you feel loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No, don't wanna be the only one you know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanna be the place you call home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I lay myself down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;To make it so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamburg Song, Keane&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2900685623769511251?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2900685623769511251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/very-sweet-and-dear-friend-told-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2900685623769511251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2900685623769511251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/very-sweet-and-dear-friend-told-me.html' title=''/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-3497260885865297249</id><published>2009-02-25T11:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T11:55:28.599-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>More on Home...</title><content type='html'>Home seems to be the one thing that comes up in my life all the time. Yes, of course, the familiar thing of dating and the lack thereof is always a constant too, but this is the one that sends my emotions in a whirlwind every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home is the one place that I always long for. I live in New York. My family lives in Tennessee. There are days and moments when I long to be with the people who know me the best. In the familiar surroundings of neighbors who wave when you walk by or tell your dad if they saw you speeding on your way to work that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Home is also New York. My apartment on the upper, upper, upper west side, as I like to call it. When a day at work is long and drawn out and all I can think about is my hot pink pajama pants and being curled up on the couch in front of the TV watching some reality show. (It's a guilty pleasure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if Home is the place I long for the most, then I am longing for my Heavenly home. The place where I truly long to be. Safe from pain and harm, there in the open arms of the one who has always pursued me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something I have been thinking about a lot. As I was riding the subway to work the other morning, drinking my coffee and reading my book, I came along this and it only made Home more desirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"And as McCall put it, " I turned to God, thinking he was a fool for wanting me." Which, of course, is the nature of love, isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's a wonderful thing when your heart guides you to the very One you need the most. The strange thing about God is that the One we deserve the least is the One we need the most and the One who desires us the most (so much for abandonment issues). At the core of her story, McCall tapped into something that drives us all, although most of us don't want to admit it. There was some meaning behind her madness, going from a Klan rally to a Black Panthers meeting to a gathering at a church in a nightclub.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As she put it, "I was always seeking a place that felt like home. I wanted to feel like I fit in, and I was desperate for it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am convinced that all of us are searching for a place called home, a place where we can close our eyes and sleep, a place where there is warmth and we are somehow unafraid, a place where we gather around the fire and the room is filled with laughter and love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My wife, Kim, has fallen in love with the story of The Notebook. Without giving away the plot, there's one line near the end that captured my attention. When James Garner's character was asked to leave the retirement community where his wife was required to live due to her alzheimer's and go home with his grandchildren, his answer was "Allie is my home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Later during one of my travels, I had the chance to watch John LeCarre's The Constant Gardener and to my surprise, the entire film culminated with the same theme. This time it was Ralph Fiennes referring to Rachel Weisz, who played his wife. When he lost her, he lost his home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many of you have been my home and never even realized it. For that safe place, for that belonging, for that love...I will forever be grateful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-3497260885865297249?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/3497260885865297249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-on-home.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3497260885865297249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/3497260885865297249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-on-home.html' title='More on Home...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2584088232240360732</id><published>2009-02-24T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:22:58.358-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>There's No Place Like Home.</title><content type='html'>"Home is ultimately not about a place to live but about the people with whom you are most fully alive. Home is about love, relationship, community and belonging, and we are all searching for HOME."&lt;br /&gt;~Erwin McManus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;my next tattoo will be "home" somewhere on my right arm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2584088232240360732?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2584088232240360732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/theres-no-place-like-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2584088232240360732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2584088232240360732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/theres-no-place-like-home.html' title='There&apos;s No Place Like Home.'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-4480887568741025418</id><published>2009-02-14T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T14:27:34.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;FEBRUARY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;PINK AND RED PARTY - Always thrown in February. Girls only. We exchange gifts that are red and pink. Yummy foods. Get to know you games. Fun way to celebrate Valentine's with the friends you love.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;RETURN OF AMERICAN IDOL - The awful auditions. The drama and tension of Hollywood week. The witty banter between Ryan Seacrest and Simon Cowell. The welcome of contestants by Randy Jackson "What's up dog?" and the is she or isn't she drunk Paula Abdul. And now the newest addition to the party, Kara DioGuardi. Let Season 8 begin!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;TAYLOR SWIFT - At 14, she became a songwriter in Nashville, TN. Impressive. I can't say I followed her through her first album, but when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fearless &lt;/span&gt;came out. One listen and I was sold. You can't help but love this 19 year old. Especially after her very candid moment with &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cNCyzhwhqI&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;Ellen Degeneres&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;WEIGHT WATCHERS - Since I claimed that 2009 was The Year of Maria, getting healthier was one of the ways to make sure I stick with that statement. WW has been great! Been doing the diet for a little over a month and have lost 10 lbs!!! Thank you Weight Watchers!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;THE ELLEN DEGENERES SHOW - I dvr this show and watch it when I get home from work. It is an instant pick me up from a long day. There's great music to dance to, fun games (&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aS9W26bSRw4"&gt;Blindfolded Musical Chairs&lt;/a&gt;), great guests, and lots and lots of laughter!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;THE GRAMMY'S - I live for this every year and have since I was a little girl. Going to the Grammy's is on my top five things to do in life. I don't want to go as a seat-filler. I want to go because I am winning an award, or going with someone else who is up for an award. You can check out my &lt;a href="http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-ten-favorite-moments-of-51st-grammy.html"&gt;favorite&lt;/a&gt; moments from this year. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;IMPROV - I love to laugh! I have friends who are in improv. You never know what is going to happen when you go to a show. The power in the place can go out, your friends can be encouraged to take part in the show, and you can find yourself being the butt of the jokes. That's Sereta with a T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-4480887568741025418?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/4480887568741025418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/7-favorite-things.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4480887568741025418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/4480887568741025418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/7-favorite-things.html' title='7 Favorite Things'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-2065198174916853323</id><published>2009-02-11T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T17:01:02.160-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 Faves'/><title type='text'>My 7 Favorite Things...More To Come</title><content type='html'>So I was checking different people's blogs and twitter accounts. One would lead to one place and then the next would lead to another place. And so on and so on. When I came across this &lt;a href="http://www.erichutchinson.com/eric-favorite-things"&gt;idea of listing your 7 favorite things for the month&lt;/a&gt;. It inspired me to do the same. So in the next few days, I'll give my 7 favorite things of February. Until then, sing this diddy to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, Brown paper packages tied up with strings, These are a few of my favorite things."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-2065198174916853323?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/2065198174916853323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-7-favorite-thingsmore-to-come.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2065198174916853323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/2065198174916853323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-7-favorite-thingsmore-to-come.html' title='My 7 Favorite Things...More To Come'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5699359308483441261</id><published>2009-02-09T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T18:47:25.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Ten Favorite Moments of the 51st Grammy Awards</title><content type='html'>10. Jennifer Hudson winning Best R&amp;amp;B Album. A Grammy and an Oscar. I think American Idol was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;9.  Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus duet of "Fifteen". Taylor's guitar was beautiful. I just love her! And Miley can sometimes annoy me, but I have to remind myself she's only 16.&lt;br /&gt;8. Sir Paul McCartney and Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters performing "I Saw Her Standing There.&lt;br /&gt;7. Jennifer Nettles of Sugarland's winning speech for Best Group or Duo. "So I told myself I was going to be cool because Paul McCartney and Coldplay are here. But I am not cool! Freak out!"&lt;br /&gt;6. "Stay" by Sugarland and "Chasing Pavement" by Adele...two songs being played over and over on my iPod. Adele singing in her stockings cause her shoes were hurting her feet was too cute!&lt;br /&gt;5. "Reach Out For Me" Tribute to The Four Tops with Jamie Foxx and Ne-Yo. Check out "Miss Independent" by Ne-Yo featuring Jamie Foxx.&lt;br /&gt;4. Radiohead and USC Trojan Marching Band performing "15 Steps". Thom Yorke’s sweet dance moves made me want to get up and join him. Radiohead has been receiving Grammy nods since 1998, but this was the first time they agreed to appear on the Grammy’s.&lt;br /&gt;3. Waking up not knowing your last name. Carrie Underwood put’s all other American Idol winners to shame.&lt;br /&gt;2. Slipping into the lava. Jonas Brothers and Stevie Wonder's collaboration on "Burnin’ Up" and "Superstition". Those Jonas Brothers are turning into very attractive men. I always love how they are dressed so I really enjoyed the rocker look they were pulling off. V-necks, skinny jeans, vests, scarves. I approve.&lt;br /&gt;1. JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE - First, it was him singing with Al Green and Keith Urban on "Let's Stay Together". I was pleased to have him explain his Memphis General Store (bait, tackle, burgers) and his soulful rendition of the song. BUT then, he came back out to play piano and give vocals for T.I.'s "Dead and Gone". Best performance of the night, in my opinion. I had to go and download the song as soon as I heard it. "Character will take you places, money can't"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Honorable Mentions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;John Mayer, B.B. King, and Keith Urban doing a tribute to Bo Diddley.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lil’ Wayne and Robin Thicke with their New Orleans tribute.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lil’ Wayne’s win for Best Rap Album. His daughters looked so proud!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stay Forever Young Pepsi commercial&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5699359308483441261?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5699359308483441261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-ten-favorite-moments-of-51st-grammy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5699359308483441261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5699359308483441261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-ten-favorite-moments-of-51st-grammy.html' title='To Ten Favorite Moments of the 51st Grammy Awards'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-5985872386569235661</id><published>2009-02-03T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T07:49:25.806-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New York'/><title type='text'>Top Ten Things to Do on the Subway</title><content type='html'>1. Save on a gym membership...arm press your briefcase to work out your biceps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Take a nap...just make sure you wake up in time for your stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Catch up on your reading. I am reading two books right now. &lt;a href="http://www.madchurchdisease.com/"&gt;Mad Church Disease&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Get-Life-All-About-You/dp/0805442995"&gt;Get A Life!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Catch up on current events. Yesterday's headline..."Is Michael Phelps Swimming Or Sinking?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Catch up with a friend. If you are so lucky to live off the same subway line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Check out the newest album you have downloaded from iTunes. My most recent purchase is &lt;a href="http://www.kweller.net/"&gt;Ben Kweller's Changing Horses&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. People watch. All observations of the different people who live and visit NYC can be highly entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. You will be shocked and amazed at the vocabulary of the children. I didn't even know some of these curse words existed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Practice your dance moves, future Rock band poses, and public speaking in front of an audience who has no where to go till the next stop so won't get up and leave in the middle of your performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Work on a blog post so when people see your blog they don't think you only write once a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few of the many things that you can see or do on the subway commute. And trust me, they are limited. The subway holds endless possibilities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-5985872386569235661?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/5985872386569235661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/top-ten-things-to-do-on-subway.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5985872386569235661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/5985872386569235661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/02/top-ten-things-to-do-on-subway.html' title='Top Ten Things to Do on the Subway'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-1869749780248030894</id><published>2009-01-23T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T14:47:45.524-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2K9 Maria'/><title type='text'>To the Hip Hop Hibby to the Hip Hip Hop and You Don't Stop...</title><content type='html'>In 2008, my boss asked us to create some personal goals. They could be anything. Work related. Life related. Anything. And one of my goals for 2008 was to improve my hip-hop dance skills. For those of you who don't know me very well, this may come as a surprise, but deep down I'm a wannabe Hip Hopper. I love rap, hip-hop, soul, and r&amp;amp;b. You can find me most times jamming out to Ne-Yo or Usher or Chris Brown. Mariah. Rihanna. So last year for my 28th birthday, my quins bought me gift certificates to a dance studio so I could take some classes. I finally after almost a year and before they expired went to a Beginners Hip Hop class at STEPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that a dance class would begin with an intense abs workout? And push-ups? And running? And lots of bad jokes. The instructor kept calling me Ms. Energy. Don't know that I really was energetic, but I couldn't quit laughing at myself and how terrible I was at mastering the moves. It seems Laughter can definitely be mistaken as Energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 8 count routine was to the song "Nasty Boys" by Notorious B.I.G. In honor of the release of Notorious: The Movie. I was thrilled cause one of the lines of the song was "I remember we went to Tennessee". Every time it would play, I would look at my friend with excitement cause it was like a shout-out to my roots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the class on Monday evening and as of today, my abs are still screaming at me. Hopefully next Monday won't be as rough on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll record myself doing the routine and put it on here for everyone to see. And then I could add YouTube Hip Hop Sensation to the list of qualities for 2K9 Maria.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-1869749780248030894?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/1869749780248030894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/01/to-hip-hop-hibby-to-hip-hip-hop-and-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1869749780248030894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/1869749780248030894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/01/to-hip-hop-hibby-to-hip-hip-hop-and-you.html' title='To the Hip Hop Hibby to the Hip Hip Hop and You Don&apos;t Stop...'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2606994664180790809.post-655110470755042753</id><published>2009-01-16T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T19:33:16.900-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2K9 Maria'/><title type='text'>New Year, New Maria</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Its the start of a new year. I know, we are already 16 days into the new year, but it took me a few days to figure out how to work a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 2009 is the self-proclaimed Year of Maria. It's the year I get a life. I realized recently I really don't have one. And it kind of makes me think of Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada or it could be because I am watching it right now. And I just sympathize with her character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyways. Its the year I get back in touch with the people that mean the most to me in my life. And the year, I say NO. Is that hard to believe? Well, I haven't fully learned this one yet. But it is going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 is the year of being healthier...emotionally, physically, and spiritually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say goodbye to 2008 Maria and hello to 2K9 Maria. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The picture on my site was taken by my friend Mike Brannin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2606994664180790809-655110470755042753?l=rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/feeds/655110470755042753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-new-maria.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/655110470755042753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2606994664180790809/posts/default/655110470755042753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rescuemefrommyself.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-new-maria.html' title='New Year, New Maria'/><author><name>rescue me from myself</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16807281599648596149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bWxp3a1_VL0/Sg8VsINXWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/CpiubNgbiP4/S220/3056_654545438657_12612494_40362585_4984679_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
