<?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-5007480593618286578</id><updated>2011-10-01T15:47:16.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHATEVER</title><subtitle type='html'>Random thoughts from a sinner saved by grace, a mom who needs a nap, a girl trying to do it right.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-5541693297875476144</id><published>2009-10-28T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T19:41:39.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a pictures worth a 1000 words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SukAX6izhQI/AAAAAAAAAj0/Rddq_pCX__I/s1600-h/PA254513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397846039232480514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SukAX6izhQI/AAAAAAAAAj0/Rddq_pCX__I/s400/PA254513.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_wBfwRTI/AAAAAAAAAjs/zx6EIXc2aqE/s1600-h/PA254575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397845353903965490" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_wBfwRTI/AAAAAAAAAjs/zx6EIXc2aqE/s400/PA254575.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_v4Iso_I/AAAAAAAAAjk/uG8HYh4DQXQ/s1600-h/PA254572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397845351391339506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_v4Iso_I/AAAAAAAAAjk/uG8HYh4DQXQ/s400/PA254572.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_vREvlxI/AAAAAAAAAjc/EVyKBdKVDJ4/s1600-h/PA254580.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397845340905772818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_vREvlxI/AAAAAAAAAjc/EVyKBdKVDJ4/s400/PA254580.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_vGPk3WI/AAAAAAAAAjU/BGxaSFb7hgw/s1600-h/PA254485.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397845337998417250" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_vGPk3WI/AAAAAAAAAjU/BGxaSFb7hgw/s400/PA254485.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_u0ZKweI/AAAAAAAAAjM/1D8gSZR7P9I/s1600-h/PA254369.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397845333206811106" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Suj_u0ZKweI/AAAAAAAAAjM/1D8gSZR7P9I/s400/PA254369.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-5541693297875476144?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/5541693297875476144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=5541693297875476144' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5541693297875476144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5541693297875476144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/10/pictures-worth-1000-words.html' title='a pictures worth a 1000 words'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SukAX6izhQI/AAAAAAAAAj0/Rddq_pCX__I/s72-c/PA254513.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3456329876969791263</id><published>2009-10-14T07:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T08:25:13.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am still here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXrKZt093I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ptjRgty-9mI/s1600-h/PA113947.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392474692780357490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXrKZt093I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ptjRgty-9mI/s400/PA113947.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXrJ7uCkTI/AAAAAAAAAhE/hv9jXqzAnao/s1600-h/PA113939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392474684728185138" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXrJ7uCkTI/AAAAAAAAAhE/hv9jXqzAnao/s400/PA113939.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXpvUia14I/AAAAAAAAAg8/yyrmFb5vcB4/s1600-h/PA113992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392473128022235010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXpvUia14I/AAAAAAAAAg8/yyrmFb5vcB4/s400/PA113992.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXpuibJOaI/AAAAAAAAAgs/niFUvRuAizM/s1600-h/PA113914.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392473114569947554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXpuibJOaI/AAAAAAAAAgs/niFUvRuAizM/s400/PA113914.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXnrStfKjI/AAAAAAAAAgU/A4D9lSU49rE/s1600-h/PA113983.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392470859789052466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXnrStfKjI/AAAAAAAAAgU/A4D9lSU49rE/s400/PA113983.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXnqfwszQI/AAAAAAAAAgE/D8yBDLU_Ia4/s1600-h/PA103800.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392470846112320770" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXnqfwszQI/AAAAAAAAAgE/D8yBDLU_Ia4/s400/PA103800.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well the semester is half way over. School is hard but good. Funniest thing is math is my best grade right now...I normally hate Math, but the teacher is so good at her job. Anatomy is kicking my gluteal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the home front ......Harry and I are finally there. After years of maybe's and never minds, we are both on the same page and we are looking for a place to live and he is looking for a job here, so we can be together. I am all "girl" about it and just totally smitten. It does make it hard to focus on school, so I think the quicker he can get here the better. It's funny how we have grown so much. I still have to work on the old communication skills and not let my mind make up the stories for me. But we are happy and I feel such peace in his arms, I feel like God is in control and he has gotten Harry and I to this place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway thats all for now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3456329876969791263?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3456329876969791263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3456329876969791263' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3456329876969791263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3456329876969791263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-am-still-here.html' title='I am still here'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/StXrKZt093I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ptjRgty-9mI/s72-c/PA113947.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3175801542275370337</id><published>2009-09-14T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T06:19:20.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a nice break</title><content type='html'>Just a few pictures from the weekend.  Ethan had his first soccer game of the season.  After the game we headed to Orlando.  Elissa and I went to MGM for night of Joy.  Flyleaf is her favorite band EVER.  The problem is they are a lot of people's favorite band.  So we got there early (2 hours early) and staked our our front row spot.  She did great, did not complain even once.  Flyleaf came out and I think she cried a little.  She knew every word to every song.  At one point the lead singer &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Lacey&lt;/span&gt; stood right in front of her and watched her sing.  It was really cool.  Sunday we woke up early and went swimming before checking out.  On the way home we &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; to go check out wonder works.  It was the coolest place for kids I have ever been to.  You can do everything there from feeling &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;hurricane&lt;/span&gt; winds, landing a space shuttle, building and riding your own &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;roller coaster&lt;/span&gt;, seeing how long you can keep you hands in water that was as cold as when the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Titanic&lt;/span&gt; sank.  You can lie on a bed of nails..and on and and on, three levels of crazy stuff. Anyway it was a great break from the stresses of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is Pat, most of my pictures of him look like this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he rarely stood still.  It was raining so I tried to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;get &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pictures&lt;/span&gt; and still keep my camera covered &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;impossible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_6F-eB7I/AAAAAAAAAfE/Fb5TeifNJB4/s1600-h/P9123115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381308872023476146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_6F-eB7I/AAAAAAAAAfE/Fb5TeifNJB4/s400/P9123115.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_5_bYVgI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Lk_M8KbDuhg/s1600-h/P9123144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381308870265689602" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_5_bYVgI/AAAAAAAAAe8/Lk_M8KbDuhg/s400/P9123144.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_Hq_zAsI/AAAAAAAAAe0/RBn_DXyrSwI/s1600-h/P9123132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381308005787828930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_Hq_zAsI/AAAAAAAAAe0/RBn_DXyrSwI/s400/P9123132.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_HHm3diI/AAAAAAAAAes/o82xFRNO-hI/s1600-h/P9123094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381307996288022050" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_HHm3diI/AAAAAAAAAes/o82xFRNO-hI/s400/P9123094.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_GwWdTGI/AAAAAAAAAek/wH51DOFYNZE/s1600-h/P9123048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381307990045183074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_GwWdTGI/AAAAAAAAAek/wH51DOFYNZE/s400/P9123048.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_GU4nbNI/AAAAAAAAAec/tXivYKBZ-L4/s1600-h/P9122956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381307982672260306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_GU4nbNI/AAAAAAAAAec/tXivYKBZ-L4/s400/P9122956.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_Fy3XRhI/AAAAAAAAAeU/co52TgnrdWc/s1600-h/P9122913.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381307973540202002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_Fy3XRhI/AAAAAAAAAeU/co52TgnrdWc/s400/P9122913.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3175801542275370337?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3175801542275370337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3175801542275370337' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3175801542275370337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3175801542275370337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/09/nice-break.html' title='a nice break'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sq4_6F-eB7I/AAAAAAAAAfE/Fb5TeifNJB4/s72-c/P9123115.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-526840504945692806</id><published>2009-09-03T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T21:13:51.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just keep swimming just keep swimming</title><content type='html'>Three weeks into school now.  And it is hard, really hard. &lt;br /&gt;Time with my kids is not near enough, money is not near enough.  But the classes are hard enough.  The driving is insane.  The homework is excessive.  And I feel more alive than ever.  I feel like I know the plan and I see the purpose and am excited to see it all unfolding each and everyday.  My kids have been great.  They miss me and it's hard for them but they understand and they encourage me to get my homework done.  Ethan likes that he is done with his and I am still having to do mine.  They really do understand that I am doing this for all of us.  Not sure how the money thing will work out.  I have had to give up shifts for classes, so I am pretty much flipping a coin to see which bill gets paid.  Even that spurs me on, that's why my butt is back in school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note! &lt;br /&gt;When Harry and I spilt up five years ago.  He walked down a path that he took on purpose to get away from God.  More than I wanted him to come back to me I wanted him to come back to God.  I knew nothing would be okay w/o him and God being okay.  Well that man now goes to church more than I do.  And last week he put out there that he has really been praying about what God would have him do.  I was done yall.  I was mad and hurt and just done.  But I still see him in songs and in day dreams.  I still see him in the role he was meant to stay in.  I was kind of mad because I wanted to be done and I just could not stop thinking about him, then he tells me he has been praying about our family.  So dang it!  God, I have prayed that for how many years!!!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I am not questioning it I am not analyzing it I am not even really talking about it.  I am going to be still and wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFwZ7Ekg080"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFwZ7Ekg080&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-526840504945692806?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/526840504945692806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=526840504945692806' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/526840504945692806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/526840504945692806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/09/just-keep-swimming-just-keep-swimming.html' title='just keep swimming just keep swimming'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7139590760742442446</id><published>2009-08-10T10:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T10:21:15.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and so it begins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368383397944704530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SoBUQeyZPhI/AAAAAAAAAeE/WaOnicQOSEc/s400/P8092894.JPG" /&gt; I am all signed up for 15 credit hours. Life has to change for the Behrs! My goal is a year of pre-requisites then next fall enter the physical therapy assistant program. I want to try and use this blog as a journal for the journey. I know it is going to be hard, but being a single mom is hard, going through divorce is hard, living on a servers income is hard. My support system is in place, and I know I will have the help I need to do this. Oh and Jennifer Light don't be surprised if I call you for some help in anatomy. So here we go!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On another note, my son can mow the grass now. He is growing up so fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368385961914526754" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SoBWluUb7CI/AAAAAAAAAeM/B6QGk8PuvIA/s400/P8092879.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7139590760742442446?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7139590760742442446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7139590760742442446' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7139590760742442446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7139590760742442446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/08/and-so-it-begins.html' title='and so it begins'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SoBUQeyZPhI/AAAAAAAAAeE/WaOnicQOSEc/s72-c/P8092894.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6712755380519202712</id><published>2009-07-10T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T14:47:47.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten reason why</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2C0dRWlI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ZK1GsdgmmY4/s1600-h/ethans+tenth+066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356950441337903698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2C0dRWlI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ZK1GsdgmmY4/s400/ethans+tenth+066.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2CTFm4mI/AAAAAAAAAd0/9AW4edRPaSU/s1600-h/ethans+tenth+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356950432380281442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2CTFm4mI/AAAAAAAAAd0/9AW4edRPaSU/s400/ethans+tenth+007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2B0VuIxI/AAAAAAAAAds/VWIIvE0Gayw/s1600-h/random+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356950424126366482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2B0VuIxI/AAAAAAAAAds/VWIIvE0Gayw/s400/random+004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Hard to believe my Boy is now 10. So to honor that here are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ten reasons why I love ETHAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;10. He would rather give than receive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;9. He is the best big brother. He makes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;sure Elissa wins as much as he does&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;8. He has a level of compassion that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;amazes me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;7. He respects his parents, even when&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;he disagrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;6. He plays with my hair, and likes to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;snuggle, as long as I don't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;call attention to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;5. He plays with others very well. He&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;will almost always give his friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;their way, without being a push over&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;4. He is willing to work hard, and try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;his very best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;3. He plays video games like a pro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;But even better he has learned to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;play madden so that I would play with him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;(madden is football)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;2. He loves everyone without regards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;of color or handicap, or any other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;thing others my look at as differences&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;1. Because ten years ago he woke my heart up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;He showed me a world that was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;closer to God than anything I had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;ever known. Ethan continues to be a constant &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;reminder of God's goodness.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-6712755380519202712?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6712755380519202712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6712755380519202712' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6712755380519202712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6712755380519202712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/07/ten-reason-why.html' title='Ten reason why'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sle2C0dRWlI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ZK1GsdgmmY4/s72-c/ethans+tenth+066.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3742289138045002827</id><published>2009-06-24T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T19:27:25.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's what i think</title><content type='html'>I think Florida is hotter than ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's odd that it cost 100$ for a doctor to tell you whats wrong and then 8$ to fix it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think if you think Jon and Kate should quit their show, then you should quit watching it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think if you emasculate (to deprive of strength) a man one day he will leave you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think people should not eat out if they can not afford to tip well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is sad  how many people want our President to fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think christian radio plays 8 songs over and over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Mary on So you think you can dance is too loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think if you have not walked in someones shoes your opinion of them should be seasoned with Grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the "fitting in" issue never goes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3742289138045002827?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3742289138045002827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3742289138045002827' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3742289138045002827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3742289138045002827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-what-i-think.html' title='It&apos;s what i think'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-5365734094114096240</id><published>2009-06-13T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T11:37:03.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>title?</title><content type='html'>Elissa and I went outside to put stuff in the shed and there is a stinkin black snake that lives in that area.  It always manages to scare the (word of choice) out of me.  This time the thing did not run away and Elissa was freaking out and so that forced me to be brave and stand my ground while she ran to the house.  So I shut the shed door and finished working.  I came out to make my run to the house, and there stood Ethan with his sword drawn.  "Where is it mom" He asked.  He seemed mad that the snake had scared his sister and he was ready to put an end the tyranny of our black snake.  My little man so brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346879212010946402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuUHjVP2I/AAAAAAAAAdk/m_tH802tixM/s400/random+033.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of these pictures are from an awesome place we found.  All the inflatables in a 10,000 square foot building.  Talk about a way to get your kids worn out.  I love summer time adventures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346879207336893906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuT2I83dI/AAAAAAAAAdc/-9LCXFPUpcA/s400/random+021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuToCzPsI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Iqeprrov3XE/s1600-h/random+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346879203553001154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuToCzPsI/AAAAAAAAAdU/Iqeprrov3XE/s400/random+023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuTBF3GPI/AAAAAAAAAdM/7PtCAt-CP0k/s1600-h/random+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346879193096853746" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuTBF3GPI/AAAAAAAAAdM/7PtCAt-CP0k/s400/random+015.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-5365734094114096240?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/5365734094114096240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=5365734094114096240' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5365734094114096240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5365734094114096240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/06/title.html' title='title?'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SjPuUHjVP2I/AAAAAAAAAdk/m_tH802tixM/s72-c/random+033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-5278015279985443643</id><published>2009-06-07T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T10:33:55.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>David</title><content type='html'>Today at church we talked about David. They had been studying David for a few weeks and today happened to be the part in the story where Bathsheba came into it. As we were reading about about the sin and and extreme ways David went to cover it up. It arises the question how can a man who slept with a married woman, got her pregnant and even had her husband killed to cover his own butt, how can he be the man after Gods own heart. I personally love that David is that man. He is no where close to perfect on an outward account, but he is a great reminder that it is our heart that gets judged. And David's heart was one that never stopped longing to be closer to God. He was a man "after" Gods own heart. He was after it, he was in pursuit of it. In the psalms even when David could not feel Gods presence, even when he felt God had forsaken him, he kept crying out, he kept seeking. He was after God.&lt;br /&gt;We all have that David moment....When the enemy has us on the rooftops and he shows us our own emptiness. Even in a full and blessed life the enemy shows us that we just need that one thing. For David it was a woman, for me or you it's a different thing, but it's the same story. What is your rooftop temptation. Jesus himself stood on the roof with the enemy, he tried to give a king his own kingdom, so that's a good indication that he'll never back off of tempting us. Let's all be after Gods heart, lets all seek him, even when we don't feel him lets pursue him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-5278015279985443643?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/5278015279985443643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=5278015279985443643' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5278015279985443643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5278015279985443643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/06/david.html' title='David'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7223025395887762748</id><published>2009-05-16T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T06:33:19.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hand up or hand out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sg96w8GMQhI/AAAAAAAAAdE/xFkJFEPquc8/s1600-h/homl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336619064641733138" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sg96w8GMQhI/AAAAAAAAAdE/xFkJFEPquc8/s400/homl.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Recently I was in a group discussion about giving money (or not giving money) to beggars. At the time for what ever reason I sat silent without the need to express my opinion. But I sat and was amazed at the negativity that has infested us as a whole. One opinion was if a man has a sign saying he's a vet and asking for help, she'll not help because he could get government help. Another said they did not want to give a guy a hand out, due to fear of it all being a scam. At first I sat there mad at the thought of not giving money when we can, and how a pastor told me once that give your money to them and do it unto God, then let it go, if you got scammed so what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I began to think about the large group of beggars I pass by every Tuesday. Sometimes I give them money sometimes I do all I can to avoid eye contact. Frankly when I do give them money I don't care what they do with it, if they eat they eat if they use it to get high so be it. Handing then a five dollar bill does not mean I care. I have no desire to go hang with them, no desire to hear their stories or to help them get off the streets. I mean I wish they could get off the streets but I am not going to do anything to make that happen. Time and lots of effort would be what would make a difference in their life, and I just think if we are not going to give them that, we should at least give what we can without our judgement or OUR expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time you refuse to give that guy a hand out, ask your self if you are then in fact willing to give him a hand up. Are you ready to get involved and help him make better choices, are you willing to be his support system, are you going to help him get to an AA meeting and help him commit to change. If you are not quite ready for that then at least give the man a five.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7223025395887762748?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7223025395887762748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7223025395887762748' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7223025395887762748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7223025395887762748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/05/recently-i-was-in-group-discussion.html' title='hand up or hand out'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sg96w8GMQhI/AAAAAAAAAdE/xFkJFEPquc8/s72-c/homl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7966750191487848272</id><published>2009-05-10T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T17:35:43.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Muddy Buddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdyG6NEk8I/AAAAAAAAAc4/Ni8srBoOK8s/s1600-h/muddy+buddy+09+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334357746672505794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdyG6NEk8I/AAAAAAAAAc4/Ni8srBoOK8s/s400/muddy+buddy+09+041.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend myself and three friends ran the muddy buddy race at the sports complex at Disney. The race consisted of you a partner a bike and a huge mud pit. It's seven miles long and at each obstacle you switch from running to biking, while your partner does the opposite. The thick sand and the Florida heat made things a little rough, but it was so much fun. After the race we all spent the entire day at the magic kingdom.....fun fun but I am ready to sleep for a week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh a funny thing.... I was running one trail in the woods and my Friend Shelby was catching up to me and so she shouted out RUN BEHR (bear) so all the runners around her like freaked out, and she was like no that's her name... It was too funny&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334308111473447266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdE9wrcEWI/AAAAAAAAAcA/V0_zStm_4Cw/s400/muddy+buddy+09+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334308119383618146" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdE-OJXsmI/AAAAAAAAAcI/jGWe3P3Cul4/s400/muddy+buddy+09+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334308127901603938" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdE-t4N2GI/AAAAAAAAAcY/IZcIVKeVTu8/s400/muddy+buddy+09+026.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334308119986910866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdE-QZNNpI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/xehgCOEeKXo/s400/muddy+buddy+09+019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334308136526722210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdE_OAmtKI/AAAAAAAAAcg/dDsW67QA9Us/s400/muddy+buddy+09+124.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These last two are of the hotel we stayed at.  It was the Disney all sports resort.  It was very nice and only 70 bucks a night.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334357742721779378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdyGrfJRrI/AAAAAAAAAcw/QJscieT3ELw/s400/muddy+buddy+09+142.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334357735968600306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdyGSVD8PI/AAAAAAAAAco/6V1FFPij7b0/s400/muddy+buddy+09+139.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7966750191487848272?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7966750191487848272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7966750191487848272' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7966750191487848272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7966750191487848272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/05/muddy-buddy.html' title='Muddy Buddy'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SgdyG6NEk8I/AAAAAAAAAc4/Ni8srBoOK8s/s72-c/muddy+buddy+09+041.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3229906602662452856</id><published>2009-04-28T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T06:01:21.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>moving on</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfg-Mza0YzI/AAAAAAAAAac/ahMRT3jYt04/s1600-h/P3271382.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I really have nothing to say, but I don't want the last post to linger. So I thought I would just post some reasons to be thankful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My kids who are truly the best &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;thing about me. They are so good to me. And I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;am honored to be their mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329947459759915554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SffG-bJ8QiI/AAAAAAAAAaU/h-h8QkihbF4/s400/cruise+018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jenny Cannon who has been so important to Ethan's education. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And who I am So happy to call my friend. Her heart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;reminds me to keep on moving forward.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329931767164257794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfe4s_rlRgI/AAAAAAAAAZE/8laU8pz4ARY/s400/seaworld+4-2-08+045.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New friends who quickly became forever friends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329945755275961442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SffFbNdTJGI/AAAAAAAAAaE/OpGyb27rJO4/s400/_DSC5922.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;For getting to be a part of the most amazing story, and a part of these lives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329946601511923634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SffGMd7rL7I/AAAAAAAAAaM/jrABJkeC8dE/s400/random+026.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Blog friends who became real friends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329923115906527186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfew1bPAb9I/AAAAAAAAAY0/DuQ74h1VdGI/s400/IMG_2766.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329923113623251890" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfew1Suoa7I/AAAAAAAAAYs/j0Kf2DmDLP0/s400/320.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 113px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329933168667268482" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfe5-kr8FYI/AAAAAAAAAZc/rkX8b4NC8XU/s400/1410868128_m%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;some  serious long term friendships, that have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;gotten me through life's hard times. And who are in almost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;all of my stories. From Deborah teaching me to squeal a tire,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;to rollerblading with Ashley at 2am. Teninis With Jeanne,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;and sirlynn (I think that was his name) Denise getting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;me in trouble for eating chips on the school bus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Six flag trips, sanibel retreats&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329934879660305762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfe7iKod7WI/AAAAAAAAAZk/_5HLUGwGc9k/s400/denise%27s+house+247.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329923116139971058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfew1cGqgfI/AAAAAAAAAYk/0VOTdpBEhU4/s400/denise%27s+house+187.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329935502256913090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfe8GZ_EOsI/AAAAAAAAAZs/PvWwPjdzwLg/s400/_DSC6146.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The fact that my kids get to grow up with other kids we love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329941192262851954" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SffBRm6MnXI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/XE3n_-DLd4c/s400/IMG_0145.JPG" /&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329918971663511890" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SfetEMuecVI/AAAAAAAAAYE/k9fdfxIBSoU/s400/IMG_0174_2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329919900583624834" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sfet6ROSgII/AAAAAAAAAYM/xTttoj0x8Kw/s400/universaljjee+083.jpg" /&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;And while everyone in my life plays a signaficat role, right now I have to say I am so very thankful for Jeanne. Everyone needs someone or something to remind them to hold on to God. When the world wants you to give up and just quit trying, we need someone to remind us that God still believes in us. And we need to feel like we can show the worst side and still be loved, without judgement. We need a safe place.....Someone who makes us want to be closer to God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330096337256095634" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SfhOYPDCn5I/AAAAAAAAAas/nAwR2cA_vCQ/s400/elissa%27s+b+day+at+jeannes+058.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So see it's all good!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3229906602662452856?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3229906602662452856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3229906602662452856' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3229906602662452856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3229906602662452856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/04/moving-on.html' title='moving on'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SffG-bJ8QiI/AAAAAAAAAaU/h-h8QkihbF4/s72-c/cruise+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7660378455057682954</id><published>2009-04-26T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T20:27:27.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Friends</title><content type='html'>So way back when, I posted about possibilities and second chances.  &lt;a href="http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/11/second-chance.html"&gt;http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/11/second-chance.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been asked for an update on that post several times.  I have wanted to post something on it for a while, but I just never knew what to say.  At the start of things all my updates would have sounded like a little girl with a crush.   Then as time passed it would have sounded more like a mom who was just too busy to date.   Then some confusion and some soul searching.  Then maybe a girl who just wants to be pursued, a girl who needs to feel loved.  Then they would have started sounding like a girl who knew it was over but could not bring herself to say it.  So finally today I can give an update..  It may not be the best day to let emotions get blogged...today I found out I have a side of me that gets hurts and then turns me into a bitter baby mama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I am not going to pour it all out in blog land.  But I will say round two came back to deceit and hurt.  So I am moving on and putting the idea of me and Harry out of the rim of possibilities.  The kids never knew we were dating or whatever you call it, so thank God they do not have to deal with any crushed hopes.&lt;br /&gt; I have changed so much since we were married but the part of me that has remained the same is that I love God and I trust him fully.  Today I am sad of course and today I am fighting that side that wants to cuss him out...........BUT it's all good..  I am fine with moving on.  I told God through all of this that I wanted him (God) over anything else, and I wanted any deceit or fakeness or whatever to be made known.  And God saw to it that his girl was in the know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there is the update.. If you feel like saying a prayer could you just ask that I would win the fight against anger and that Harry.................Well just ask God to .......................Hmmmm Not sure  what to say there. &lt;br /&gt;Don't feel like you have to leave a comment on this post I know it's hard to know what to say, and really I am fine and I am trusting God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7660378455057682954?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7660378455057682954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7660378455057682954' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7660378455057682954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7660378455057682954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/04/just-friends.html' title='Just Friends'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3858759460863830625</id><published>2009-04-20T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T19:34:17.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sail away</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey5fqm7TcI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/OtMF9eTFK-k/s1600-h/cruise+248.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey5fWagShI/AAAAAAAAAWI/MzrR2Y6nD50/s1600-h/cruise+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey5fPEn0GI/AAAAAAAAAWA/zQsi4iHWJ8Y/s1600-h/cruise+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey5ewjEcrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/SOsyJ0fX3bo/s1600-h/cruise+236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326836397351662258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey5ewjEcrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/SOsyJ0fX3bo/s400/cruise+236.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The cruise was amazing, the kids had so much fun. Ethan seemed to be known by everyone, we'd be walking around and you'd hear "hey Ethan". He did a lot of stuff with the kids camp on board, even had a late night party for 10pm until 3am. Elissa stayed with me most of the time, she just wanted to be in the pool or eating ice cream, oh and the endless supply of apples was a hit with her. Forget about food variety, my kids stuck with pizza, EVERYDAY!!! Mexico was amazing.... Driving the dune buggy was quite an adventure. I do believe we'll be crusing again next year!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey1iNWNx4I/AAAAAAAAAVg/HROOubihSQw/s1600-h/P4161655.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey1h0266gI/AAAAAAAAAVY/wJQOs9mchlo/s1600-h/P4161742.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey1hu0gHFI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/0ADO30hLBj0/s1600-h/P4161747.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey1hVIrJqI/AAAAAAAAAVI/dddM34DJnas/s1600-h/P4171803.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Seyzy1L5wwI/AAAAAAAAAVA/eDhtVst4zC4/s1600-h/cruise+338.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326830145124287234" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Seyzy1L5wwI/AAAAAAAAAVA/eDhtVst4zC4/s400/cruise+338.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SeyzyrbTRsI/AAAAAAAAAU4/0IV-i1nSu6Q/s1600-h/cruise+257.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326830142504519362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SeyzyrbTRsI/AAAAAAAAAU4/0IV-i1nSu6Q/s400/cruise+257.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Seyzye_IBEI/AAAAAAAAAUw/CGRt7PL2U_0/s1600-h/cruise+240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326830139165115458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Seyzye_IBEI/AAAAAAAAAUw/CGRt7PL2U_0/s400/cruise+240.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SeyzyNoeF4I/AAAAAAAAAUo/7hzvdC5_f20/s1600-h/cruise+233.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Seyzx3xbkSI/AAAAAAAAAUg/4yjZjfB6g7U/s1600-h/cruise+126.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326828279122333154" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SeyyGNyXjeI/AAAAAAAAAUA/OJNE0I0laXQ/s400/cruise+038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326828281283902674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SeyyGV1ufNI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/vmWrbplQ5Tg/s400/cruise+105.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3858759460863830625?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3858759460863830625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3858759460863830625' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3858759460863830625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3858759460863830625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/04/sail-away.html' title='Sail away'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Sey5ewjEcrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/SOsyJ0fX3bo/s72-c/cruise+236.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6938260085189113540</id><published>2009-04-02T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T15:20:57.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That kind of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;I was watching home videos of my kids, and my heart began to ache for those moments of holding little babies.  It's funny looking at them now, I don't love them any less but I love them so differently.  What if our love for our kids never changed?  We would never let them out of our sight, if we had that infant kind of love.  It does change, because we are getting ready to let them go, let them grow up and go off to college, to go and start their own families.  Letting them leave home.  But I think God loves &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;us&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; with that infant type of love always, because he is preparing us to come home.  I like to think of God never letting me out of his sight, I like to think of him knowing when the time is right for me to be in his arms.  I like to think no matter how grown up on earth I have to be I am still his little girl.  &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/5007480593618286578-6938260085189113540?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6938260085189113540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6938260085189113540' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6938260085189113540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6938260085189113540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/04/that-kind-of-love.html' title='That kind of Love'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7721662209394348756</id><published>2009-03-29T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T06:34:03.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Such a good weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday we had Elissa's party at the fun spot in Orlando!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAbEEy06_I/AAAAAAAAARE/0eC-z5Z18_I/s1600-h/P3271388.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318780916744907762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAbEEy06_I/AAAAAAAAARE/0eC-z5Z18_I/s400/P3271388.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Jake loved the cake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZObIGyrI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/viFWHfdbd9M/s1600-h/P3271461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318778895515175602" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZObIGyrI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/viFWHfdbd9M/s400/P3271461.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; Bumper cars was the biggest hit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZN6j_NvI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/SQzemlgi0kY/s1600-h/P3271363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318778886773749490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZN6j_NvI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/SQzemlgi0kY/s400/P3271363.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never seen a little boy so happy to be somewhere&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZNgjbLjI/AAAAAAAAAQs/6c0Z_kW2qUE/s1600-h/P3271380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318778879792066098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZNgjbLjI/AAAAAAAAAQs/6c0Z_kW2qUE/s400/P3271380.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Birthday girls party was perfect&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZNbUfWlI/AAAAAAAAAQk/6qk5iLJcGjA/s1600-h/P3271445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318778878387247698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZNbUfWlI/AAAAAAAAAQk/6qk5iLJcGjA/s400/P3271445.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Mr. Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZNDb-VbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/0QNBFZ0Vu34/s1600-h/P3271355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318778871976187314" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAZNDb-VbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/0QNBFZ0Vu34/s400/P3271355.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then on saturday was the Kelly Clarkson concert&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;***update***Kids did not go with me (but I am still so cool)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;It turned out to be a good thing they did not go, over 30000&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;people, on a first come basis.  We stood for three hours before the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#ffffff;"&gt;concert to get the spot we had.*****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Elissa and I are going to see flyleaf in september&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAX2a5Kd3I/AAAAAAAAAQE/Lrh0tYNr5-w/s1600-h/kelly+clarkson+062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318777383624013682" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAX2a5Kd3I/AAAAAAAAAQE/Lrh0tYNr5-w/s400/kelly+clarkson+062.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She put on one of the best shows I have ever seen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAX10bN5UI/AAAAAAAAAP0/C6VjSn8mmkU/s1600-h/kelly+clarkson+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318777373297861954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAX10bN5UI/AAAAAAAAAP0/C6VjSn8mmkU/s400/kelly+clarkson+029.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the end!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7721662209394348756?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7721662209394348756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7721662209394348756' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7721662209394348756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7721662209394348756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/03/such-good-weekend.html' title='Such a good weekend'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SdAbEEy06_I/AAAAAAAAARE/0eC-z5Z18_I/s72-c/P3271388.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2329699708060210575</id><published>2009-03-19T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T19:37:48.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God just Knew</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Scb1772B1iI/AAAAAAAAAPs/cJGve8QlA7Y/s1600-h/P3221064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316206820182840866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Scb1772B1iI/AAAAAAAAAPs/cJGve8QlA7Y/s400/P3221064.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is my sweet little girls 8th birthday. She is my constant reminder that God always knows whats best. I thank him for giving her to me and trusting me with her. She makes me smile even when I try to be serious. Her laughter can fill a room and echo in your memories. She is the best daughter a mom could ask for. She hugs more than anyone I have ever met. She loves God and the good guys. She's a rocker and a secret girly girl. She's my Elissa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314993332119604402" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/ScKmRoiPDLI/AAAAAAAAAO0/HHlOVEIJKhM/s400/P2160200.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314993324594912354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/ScKmRMgNXGI/AAAAAAAAAOs/XsfOswGyRts/s400/P2210468.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/ScKmQpsPNTI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ZrVF35x9_Rk/s1600-h/kids+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2329699708060210575?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2329699708060210575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2329699708060210575' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2329699708060210575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2329699708060210575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-just-knew.html' title='God just Knew'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/Scb1772B1iI/AAAAAAAAAPs/cJGve8QlA7Y/s72-c/P3221064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6066271767670747429</id><published>2009-02-26T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T19:45:17.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>free to be blessed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was reading one of my favorite Blogs (Bring the rain) And while reading the comments I kept seeing some very negative comments from a reader who expressed a lot of anger at what appeared to her as financial Blessings that Angie has received. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That very issue has been on my mind a lot. I have heard countless times of others saying they are jealous over what this one has or that one has. Jealous over their house, or their car, or their vacation or his job. So what are we really saying in allowing that jealousy to fester. We would never come out and say "I wish God would not bless you" BUT that is exactly what jealousy says. We are such a "what about me people" that we have allowed satan to captivate us by what others have and we allow him to make us feel less than because they got it, not us. Often the ones who are conventing the blessings of others are blind to their own blessings. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With the economy in the position it is in, there is a real battle for us not to turn inwards, not to feel sorry for ourselves, not to forget to bless others. And the battle we dont often see is the battle to let others be free to be blessed. To be happy for his promotion, even when your job sucks. To be happy for her wedding even when your marriage is falling apart. To rejoice that they are having a baby even when you have tried so long to be a mom. To be excited for her trip even when can never get away. To be happy they are debt free even when you are drowing. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The worst people to be around are the ones who try to make you feel guilty for the good things God has given you.&lt;/strong&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/5007480593618286578-6066271767670747429?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6066271767670747429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6066271767670747429' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6066271767670747429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6066271767670747429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/02/free-to-be-blessed.html' title='free to be blessed'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2149758229733914219</id><published>2009-02-20T04:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T05:02:28.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He's there</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SZ6pn89lsnI/AAAAAAAAAOY/HIo4S4ECb24/s1600-h/kids+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304863914933465714" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SZ6pn89lsnI/AAAAAAAAAOY/HIo4S4ECb24/s400/kids+014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SZ6oeyqM9iI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/HAclkGXq1wc/s1600-h/kids+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;When you feel the world pushing you down, everything tells you to quit. Look up, he's there. You have the creator of the universe cheering you on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2149758229733914219?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2149758229733914219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2149758229733914219' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2149758229733914219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2149758229733914219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/02/hes-there.html' title='He&apos;s there'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SZ6pn89lsnI/AAAAAAAAAOY/HIo4S4ECb24/s72-c/kids+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7877503160687452586</id><published>2009-01-27T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T11:15:53.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>just thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Sometimes I feel like I really live two different lives. I have my christian friends and my non christian friends.(and of course there are those friends who are just my peeps who cross the lines of any lables, the ones who make it easy  YOU know who you are) My non christian friends know I believe in God and they all know they can talk to me about anything anytime. And they are very very aware of how imperfect I am, and that is fine by them. I think I may be myself more around them, I never feel judged by them nor do I feel like I judge them. Sometimes in the christian circles I find myself feeling judged or not good enough. I feel like there are facades we all must wear in that circle. Logically as Christians we should be easy to be friends with and logically we should be the most "real" of all the people, and the last the very very last to judge anyone. If we are a christian then at some point we admitted we are a sinner and we need Jesus to forgive us many many times a day. If we believe in Jesus we believe in his way and his way was love. I just wonder if I, who knows who i am in God, feels like I don't belong within christian circles how much worse is it for someone who does not Know. I just wish we could see how we make others feel. Most of us deep down do know, because we talk about the ones out of our circle within our circle. There is a story told about gossip in the movie &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;doubt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; that was perfect to my point. The short of it was a woman spoke falsely against someone and went to the priest to repent, he told her she was forgiven but to go to roof and cut open a pillow and tell him what happens, she came back to the priest after cutting the pillow and said there was feathers, feathers everywhere, he told her to then go find every feather, she said she could not because the wind carried them and &lt;strong&gt;she did not know where they traveled, the priest said and that is&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;gossip.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;My inperfections are many, and I am going to be real about them, and if this circle or that circle judge me for it then so be it. We will never get to a point of being able to truly help each other, if we can not get real with each other. How many plans of the enemy would fail if we had the freedom to be honest, if we had a Jesus kind of love to carry us through. How many pits could we avoid if we could just say "I'm jumping in help me"&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/5007480593618286578-7877503160687452586?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7877503160687452586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7877503160687452586' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7877503160687452586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7877503160687452586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-thinking.html' title='just thinking'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-5732009986575428703</id><published>2009-01-23T05:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T06:05:18.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A dream realized</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Along with most of the country I watch ed as the 44th president was sworn in. I don't think I have ever been so proud to be an American. The part(well one of) that had me in awe was the benediction given by Rev. Joseph E. Lowery. This man who along side Martin Luther King had once marched the streets of Washington, asking his country for equal rights. This man who could not eat in a restaurant, ride a bus in the front, could not vote, could not see a movie or wash his clothes at certain laundry mats. A man who faced police lines with eyes of hatred looking back at him. He saw the dream and he believed we could get there, without violence, without hate, he believed good would win and Justice would one day be for all. We did it! No matter your political opinion, no matter who you voted for. Our country hit a huge turning point.&lt;br /&gt;I love history, I love reading about the civil rights movement, and I could not help but smile as I watched history in the making on January 20th 2009.&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/5007480593618286578-5732009986575428703?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/5732009986575428703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=5732009986575428703' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5732009986575428703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5732009986575428703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/01/dream-realized.html' title='A dream realized'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2742158989637150100</id><published>2009-01-14T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T06:51:39.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well Friday my grandmother passed away.  It was sad for Ethan and Elissa, they lost their granddad on their dads side last year, so they have asked a lot about death and heaven.  I was torn on taking them to the funeral, but they both wanted to go so we did.  It started out like most do, they played some sad southern music and one of her daughters said a little something then her grandson my cousin got up to preach or something like it.  OH MY GOODNESS I did not know people like him were real.  First let me tell you their is a huge rift in our family and the ones who cause the problems are the "Religious" ones.  They are religious and racist, with I say is an oxymoron.  Any way Daryl began his rant with "Now I have to say first I love you all and I am not here to be ugly but what I say may step on some of your toes"  Okay my advice to anyone bringing a word, if you have to apologize for it, don't bring it.  When did Jesus need to apologize.  Any way he went on to tell everyone everything from being the devil's children to the sin of shacking up, even calling out homosexuality, said something stupid about if God has not whooped you then you aint no child of God, you belong to the devil.  Oh yeah and you can only read the king James bible (Oh the blog I could do on that issue).  So finally I had enough, and got the kids and walked out.  I had a flash back to a church I grew up in and if you tried to leave the pastor would call you out, I wished he would have done that, because I would have had a lot to say.  I kept looking at some of the faces in that room, one of which was a cousin with his pregnant girlfriend, and the thing is i know the pain he has had in his life and this "pastor" telling him he is the devil child, what good does that do him.  Nothing in that word had an ounce of love in it.  It was a choose God or Hell, where is the choice in that.  Jesus is more than your get out of hell free card.  He is the lover of your soul, he is the one who never leaves you, who never runs out of love for you, the one who believes in a thousand second chances, the one who you do not disappoint, the one who believes in you and Cherish's you, knows every thought in your heart and loves you still.  Anyway on our way out I say the pregnant girlfriend, and she asked if I had had enough too.  I told her yes and that I hope she does not think Christians really act like that.  I got the kids in the car and I was worried about what all they took in.  I told them that what that man said was not how God wants us to talk to to people and then I asked them if you want people the know God what do you do,  They both answered "YOU LOVE THEM"  If kids can get it so can the rest of us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2742158989637150100?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2742158989637150100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2742158989637150100' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2742158989637150100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2742158989637150100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2009/01/enough.html' title='enough'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7336524034554887841</id><published>2008-12-31T22:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T22:18:13.797-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a new day</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Happy new year my peeps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I love how with a change in the year brings in such a new hope.  We all get to the end and think awe, it's a new year I can start over, I can do better, I can be better.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;But you know whats great with God every moment is a new moment.  When you need to do better, or start over do it moment by moment.  His mercies are new every morning.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;With 2009 I hope each day I get out of the bed with a sense of new with god.  Nothing will take me from his love, from his grip.  I have however let many things take me from his peace.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I want to know him more tody, tomorrow and all year long.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7336524034554887841?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7336524034554887841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7336524034554887841' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7336524034554887841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7336524034554887841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-new-day.html' title='It&apos;s a new day'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1035110241995261709</id><published>2008-12-25T17:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T17:30:25.498-08:00</updated><title type='text'>christmas fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The Barbie house was a huge success. it was a pain to build though, after getting it together then realizing the reason it was not working was because the middle section was upside down. So after building it twice, I can no longer feel my thumbs. Of course the flipping little elves get all the credit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQu7a2q4GI/AAAAAAAAAMw/59Wfy9BR3i8/s1600-h/xmas082+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283899861168218210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQu7a2q4GI/AAAAAAAAAMw/59Wfy9BR3i8/s400/xmas082+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuWfN9RkI/AAAAAAAAAMo/VSeHikrQatI/s1600-h/xmas08+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Ethan's room quickly became a wrestling world! That little wresting ring has made video games a thing of the past (for now). Santa delivered to Ethan a Lego castle, and I am sure that darn Santa had no idea&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283902867961575202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQxqcCEdyI/AAAAAAAAAM4/Y9dtLiHZLOU/s400/xmas082+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt; there was 1000 pieces to that thing. But since I had to wait for the feeling to return to my thumbs I got the credit for that one, (take that elves)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuWHod_7I/AAAAAAAAAMg/hO3Chs6KucI/s1600-h/xmas08+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283899220353220530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuWHod_7I/AAAAAAAAAMg/hO3Chs6KucI/s400/xmas08+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Oh and that's Hannah Montana dating Shane from camp rock and Taylor swift dating a very pretty Ken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuV0vdFgI/AAAAAAAAAMY/_TT75z0j0Qw/s1600-h/xmas082+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283899215282247170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuV0vdFgI/AAAAAAAAAMY/_TT75z0j0Qw/s400/xmas082+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The world of pretend is alive this Christmas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuVQukazI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/plFsuMb8pUs/s1600-h/xmas082+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283904045901094898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQyvAMvH_I/AAAAAAAAANA/OG278XOd8P0/s400/xmas082+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQuUwDWSHI/AAAAAAAAAMI/z0gM13KT-iI/s1600-h/xmas082+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;(A fight just broke out, and it seems Hannah Montanna has pushed Taylor Swift down the stairs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-1035110241995261709?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1035110241995261709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1035110241995261709' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1035110241995261709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1035110241995261709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-fun.html' title='christmas fun'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SVQu7a2q4GI/AAAAAAAAAMw/59Wfy9BR3i8/s72-c/xmas082+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-677194637715526816</id><published>2008-12-16T14:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T14:43:12.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i forgot</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I have been working overtime to make the holiday money. Stressing right along with everyone else over how I am going to buy my kids a good christmas. Actully I have dreaded the season a little. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Until today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;See I forgot &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot that some are not worried about presents under the tree, but rather worried about food on the table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot that seventeen families in my area are on a homeless shelter waiting list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot how many of our senior citizens will be in nursing homes with no visitors on christmas day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot about the hospital full of patients too sick to be home for christmas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot about the ones who just watched their homes get taken by the bank&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot about the mom whose baby went to be with the Lord this year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot about the husband whose spending his first christmas without his bride in over fifty years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I forgot that God had a different idea of christams all along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He never intended his Boys birthday to stress us out. He never intended for us to build a debt to add to our material collection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;He never intended us to look more forward to what we can get black friday, then the gift he gave us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So slow down, and do what you can and let go when you can do no more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Find the spirit of Christmas and pass it along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;M&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;R&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;Y &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;C&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;R&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;S&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;A&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-677194637715526816?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/677194637715526816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=677194637715526816' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/677194637715526816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/677194637715526816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-forgot.html' title='i forgot'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-8968924875044234600</id><published>2008-12-02T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T10:28:59.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>judge this</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I think I am a person who is as far from perfect as you can get, without being a criminal.   But for whatever reason people still see me as a "good girl" .  I know Gods grace is bigger than I can wrap my mind around, his grace not only covers the stuff between he and I, but also the stuff between me and my peeps.  I never try to come off as better than anyone, i really do try to just be real.  Lately something has been driving me crazy.  Every time at my work, that someone cusses in front of my they apologize.  It does not bother me that they cuss or that they apologize, but it bothers me that they feel the need to apologize TO ME.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;I tend to think that they do it because they feel judged.  Unfortunately the church has done a good job at making others feel that way. Portraying Christians as the world Judges. Whats the point of being there for someone if they do not feel like they can come to us as they are.  I even heard one girl say when I clean up I may go to church with you.  First of all I do not invite anyone to church, I think if that is going to be something they need in their life that door will open for them. (in fact I only go to church once in a while)  I would rather hang out with them or help them with something they need.  I wish we could start the image of Christianity over......You dont go to the hospital when you are well, or out to eat when you are full and you should not go to church only when your "cleaned up"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Jesus was a man who got out and got dirty and found the ones that everyone else cast aside.  He loved and his only agenda was for them to be loved.  For the lost to find hope, for the sick to be healed, for the broken hearted to find peace.  He did not say clean up then come to me, or quit your cussing then come to me, he just said come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.  I hope when we are praying for our lost loved ones and friends we will just pray that they let themselves, as messed up as they may be, they'll just be loved.  You don't have to fit into anyones idea of what a christian should be.  Being in church three times a week does not make you better than the man who has not been to a church in thirty years.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ffffff;"&gt;And just so you know I am not anti church but I am anti-four walls defining Christianity.  The lost do not need another building and another doctrine, or another board of deacons, the lost need to know that they are loved, that they are wanted.  That Jesus does not want a better you, he just wants you.  Anywhoo....that's whats on my mind today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-8968924875044234600?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/8968924875044234600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=8968924875044234600' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8968924875044234600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8968924875044234600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/12/judge-this.html' title='judge this'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-384018209615543957</id><published>2008-11-23T09:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T09:48:28.378-08:00</updated><title type='text'>good times good times</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUkPnm6I/AAAAAAAAAMA/TJofi0Gf7S4/s1600-h/ry%253D400%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271911218396240802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUkPnm6I/AAAAAAAAAMA/TJofi0Gf7S4/s400/ry%253D400%5B4%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUgEUxEI/AAAAAAAAAL4/pZoQ0Ww9vZU/s1600-h/ry%253D400%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271911217275126850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUgEUxEI/AAAAAAAAAL4/pZoQ0Ww9vZU/s400/ry%253D400%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUBCVNMI/AAAAAAAAALw/O92MnZiPYh0/s1600-h/ry%253D400%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271911208945267906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUBCVNMI/AAAAAAAAALw/O92MnZiPYh0/s400/ry%253D400%5B5%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUPv0zcI/AAAAAAAAALo/W0DENbxkJZg/s1600-h/ry%253D400%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271911212894178754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUPv0zcI/AAAAAAAAALo/W0DENbxkJZg/s400/ry%253D400%5B3%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXT-Efz_I/AAAAAAAAALg/FwEJrS4KQGE/s1600-h/ry%253D400%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271911208149045234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXT-Efz_I/AAAAAAAAALg/FwEJrS4KQGE/s400/ry%253D400%5B2%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-384018209615543957?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/384018209615543957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=384018209615543957' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/384018209615543957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/384018209615543957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/11/good-times-good-times.html' title='good times good times'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SSmXUkPnm6I/AAAAAAAAAMA/TJofi0Gf7S4/s72-c/ry%253D400%5B4%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7898756462680475916</id><published>2008-11-01T22:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T06:33:21.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>second chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I posted months and months ago about what lesson we can learn from wanting a second chance. What things I would do differently in my relationship with Harry if hindsight had helped out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Well, he and I are working on that second chance. God is amazing in his ability to make all things new. Because even though I was married to this man for seven years every time he calls me baby it feels like those first giddy days of a new romance. And every bit of bitterness I thought I would have, is not there at all. I look at him and reflect on choices I wish I would have made, and thankful for choices I now get to make. Nothing is taken for granted and a huge amount of gratitude and respect goes into this second chance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;We are taking everything really slow and keeping the kids in the dark for now. I know life does not grant you many do overs, so I am so invested in really living up to the responsibility that God is trusting me with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The 20 year old that fell for Harry and this 31 year old who is falling again are such different people. She had no idea how her choice of words could cause such discord. She had no idea that &lt;strong&gt;the only way to silence insecurities is to speak them out loud&lt;/strong&gt;. She had no idea how freeing it is to need someone. Or how whole she could feel in his arms. She was obsessed with control and with changing him to be what she thought he should be. She cared too much what everyone else thought they should be. She was jealous of him. She never shut up long enough to hear him, and she always had to be right. She made his dreams small and eventually silent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I want to build him up, I want his dreams to run wild in our conversations. I want to say what I feel and &lt;strong&gt;trust him with those feelings&lt;/strong&gt;. I want him to be who he is all the time, we might not agree but we'll both have that security of knowing we can be ourselves. And I want his arms to hold me as often as they can. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here is the whole story if u dont know it&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/forever-came.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/forever-came.html&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;anyway&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&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/5007480593618286578-7898756462680475916?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7898756462680475916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7898756462680475916' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7898756462680475916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7898756462680475916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/11/second-chance.html' title='second chance'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3429454796055673214</id><published>2008-10-26T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T17:46:11.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>weekend fun</title><content type='html'>Since I seem to be unable to write lately, here was my great weekend. The first picture is at a corn maze that took about 2 hours to find our way out of. It was a really fun weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOfTD9z-I/AAAAAAAAALI/Ame1Gu_bzWM/s1600-h/corn+maze+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261627670507933666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOfTD9z-I/AAAAAAAAALI/Ame1Gu_bzWM/s400/corn+maze+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOe19Q5GI/AAAAAAAAALA/d5Aae3ed0Hc/s1600-h/corn+maze+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261627662695195746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOe19Q5GI/AAAAAAAAALA/d5Aae3ed0Hc/s400/corn+maze+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOc_wc50I/AAAAAAAAAK4/ft3NhSq9OWE/s1600-h/corn+maze+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261627630966073154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOc_wc50I/AAAAAAAAAK4/ft3NhSq9OWE/s400/corn+maze+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOctlem6I/AAAAAAAAAKw/Vwb-ZECz96M/s1600-h/park+141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261627626088209314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOctlem6I/AAAAAAAAAKw/Vwb-ZECz96M/s400/park+141.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUObtOP2MI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SO0OP426iOA/s1600-h/park+093.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261627608810903746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUObtOP2MI/AAAAAAAAAKo/SO0OP426iOA/s400/park+093.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3429454796055673214?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3429454796055673214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3429454796055673214' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3429454796055673214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3429454796055673214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/10/weekend-fun.html' title='weekend fun'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SQUOfTD9z-I/AAAAAAAAALI/Ame1Gu_bzWM/s72-c/corn+maze+014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-711646858235426663</id><published>2008-10-15T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T09:49:32.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>good enough re posted just because</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wonder at what point we go from confidence to insecurity, or from grace to guilt. What comes into our lives and teaches us that we are not good enough, or that we do not measure up. What tricks us into not believing Gods grace is sufficient. I can trace mine back to events that turned the playing field away from God. I think is is important to look back and identify what caused you to break, and then even more important to take those moments back. You can not undo what happened just as you can not prevent what else may happen, but you can take back what was stolen form you. Our confidence is in Christ, we are good enough, because we are his, we measure up because he created the "we" that we are. And his grace is sufficient. I have heard some talk about walking in guilt because grace seems to easy. Well for us it is supposed to be easy. It is a contrast to the effort of the cross. What Jesus did for us was harder than anything we can fathom. And in his extreme comes our freedom. Accepting his grace is part of recognizing his sacrifice. And grace is not permission to sin, it is knowledge that our sin is forgiven. God knows where we fall short and only in his power will we find strength to change, so it only makes sense to be wrapped in his grace. But we also have to get to a place where we are not wanting more for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;image&lt;/span&gt; others will have of us. Our desire has to be more for God. It's like going to church, if your thought is "well if I don't go what will They think of me" Or "I go to church so i know they think I am good" Man If either of those cross your mind just stay home. I walked in guilt for a long time and what kept me there was worrying about what this one or that one thought of me. Never looking at what God may think of me. If we compare ourselves and our walk with another then we are not walking in Gods shadow, we're walking in theirs. And the thing about walking in mans shadow, it's small and will keep you looking down, keeps you locked it guilt focused on making the "right" move. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What do you think walking in Gods shadow feels like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-711646858235426663?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/711646858235426663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=711646858235426663' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/711646858235426663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/711646858235426663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/10/good-enough.html' title='good enough re posted just because'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6172720759506494786</id><published>2008-10-03T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T08:21:53.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What if</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is a great movie called the count of Monte cristo, and at one point after the man had been in prison for many years, he is talking with the priest and the priest says something about God. The count says he does not believe in God and the priest says back "it does not matter, God still believes in you".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;What if &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; was our attitude towards the world, towards the non believer. Too often Christians find themselves in a world of judgement, a right that God never handed down to us. He alone holds that right. Jesus set things up fairly easy for us, He did the work, and the holy spirit continues that work, our job is really to love and to have compassion. To always remember every unbeliever, every hurting person, every lost soul is a son or daughter that God still believes in. Each and everyone of them is a soul that God himself created and loves, and that he is so very fond of, just as he is of you. I spent a lot of years at a church where the sinner was not loved, in fact over and over they were removed from the church. When did it become okay to replace love with judgement? Who of us can see into the heart of another. Who of us can see what plan God has for the very man you cast a side. Who knew Paul would teach Christians after killing so many. Who knew David would be the man after Gods own heart, after the sin he got caught up in. And who of us has "arrived" enough to even consider judging another? How many men and woman have walked out of prison, or away from addiction, or out of a gang, or ran from abuse, to turn out to be a pathway to God for countless others, because God will not stop believing in them. And we love the happy ending, but what has our part been throughout the story. I want my write up to be that I did my best to show compassion and that they felt love for their soul, not love of the sin, but love for the sinner. That they knew I was someone they could go to for help and for love. I want to be the same in the beginning of the story as I am in the ending. Christians are going to have to work really hard to gain back a reputation of trust and compassion. Our doors have been closed to the world, we have cast judgement and deemed people unworthy. We have taken a power away from God by not believing in the least of these. It is time to give God his place back, it is time to let God love his children and if he will, love them with our arms. So while your neighbor, co-worker, friend, child, spouse may say they do not believe in God, remember God still believes in them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-6172720759506494786?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6172720759506494786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6172720759506494786' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6172720759506494786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6172720759506494786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-if.html' title='What if'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-8417229817962234947</id><published>2008-09-18T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T08:36:48.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>suffering</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Suffering.... Thats the word on my mind today.&lt;br /&gt;So much is going on right now, and so many people are hurting and just waiting for help. I think many times in suffering all you can do is wait, wait for help. Those folks who lost everything to a storm, they are waiting for help. Hati, all those suffering there are waiting for help. On the grand scale it is overwhelming, the pain that is apperant in just one thiry minute segemant of the news. Then we localize it, and our friend whose husband left her, or the freinds who are having a hard time paying the bills. Theirs a friend whose mom has cancer, someones child is sick, someone lost a job, someone is just depressed......suffering.......waiting.........&lt;br /&gt;I think the most effective tactic satan has is turn our eyes to ourselves, and not look past our own issues to help others. This past week or so I have been so guilty of that. With gas prices going up and me having to work less hours, due to the kids needs, and this and that....I have just allowed my self to get in a box and just worry about me and just feel sorry for me. I tell you, watching a documenrty on poverity (real Poverity) broke that box into a million pieces. I was sitting there with my bottled water, watching the information on what clean drinking water would do for this villiage.&lt;br /&gt;It still does not make times any less hard, there are still bills to be paid, but prospcetive it so gives. All of our problems are real for us, we just have to be careful not to allow our hardtimes to close our eyes to the hard times of others.&lt;br /&gt;I really want to do all I can to be their for others. Sometimes all we can do is pray for them (which is huge) but sometimes we can meet the need, sometimes we are what they have been praying for. There is a lot of pain, and the work that can be done in their lives if we will just love them without an agenda, love them the way Jesus teaches us to love. It's not about how many pews we can fill in church, becuse the church can be at over capicity and no one feel loved. I think sometimes our goal in wittenising to to get them church... Let your life and your love get them to Jesus, he can do the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing on my mind, since I have not blogged in a while I might as well get it all out. Someone was having a heated political discussion. And yall I am so into this election for many reason. But they said something that really got me thinking about our belief in Gods power. They are die hard Republicans, the real deal here and their argument was why would anyone vote for someone who may turn out to be a Muslim (don't even go there). So while I am not saying who I will vote for I would ask them why not. If America elects an atheist, what does that mean.. Well do we want an atheist in charge, I would tell them if an atheist is president &lt;em&gt;God is still in charge&lt;/em&gt;. Now believe me I understand the "value vote" and I want so many things to be different is our great country, my only point is God loves Obama and McCain the same, And he'll be the same God no matter who wins...And oh what a powerful God he is. The commander in chief has nothing on the creator of heaven and earth. And for some Christians taking the approaches they are taking is just hurting our reputation. If our only way to prove our point is to tare someone down then&lt;em&gt; we&lt;/em&gt; missed the point entirely&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/5007480593618286578-8417229817962234947?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/8417229817962234947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=8417229817962234947' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8417229817962234947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8417229817962234947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/09/suffering.html' title='suffering'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1898221238072757857</id><published>2008-08-30T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T08:37:07.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i need a......</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;(Grab a snack it’s a long one)&lt;br /&gt;How many times do we as women get jealous over other people’s relationships. Everyone knows that one person that everyone seems to be drawn to, the girl everyone wants to be friends with. It’s funny that in our pursuit to be that girls friend, we pass up a lot of girls that are wanting to be our friend.&lt;br /&gt;We have got to get out of the popularity and clique mentality. I would like my prayers to be, let me be a friend to someone, let me be someone somebody needs. Often we see who we want to see and seek what we want to seek, our motives are not always bad, but not always right either.&lt;br /&gt;In the movie “hope Floats” Sandra Bullock’s character was talking about how she knew she losing her husband, how at his functions she never fit in, how the women there were always surveying the room looking for someone better to talk to. Man, I have felt that so many times in my life, I still have times of great insecurity where I just know I do not fit in, the difference for me is I have come to a place of getting my security form God not from man. But I also get to use those feeling to make sure I do not survey the room for someone better to talk to. That is an ugly side to us that needs to be worked out. We are jealous that we are not part of certain circles, but how many are we rejecting out of ours. We are mad, so in so did not invite us to whatever, but who did we invite or who did we leave out. What about the ones you exclude, when you are thinking about how hurt your feelings are over not being included, are you thinking of anyone else who feels that way, maybe even who you have made feel that way. Sometimes the way God fixes our hurts is to point out what we can change in us. Especially in the area of friendship, I just can not image a good fix to that hurt being you getting “the one” to be all about you. It would make more sense for God to use that to help you and sister “really forgotten” to meet and be to each other what you both seek, a friend. But she is not what you are seeking, she may not be someone you think is not dare I say good enough. Granted we would never say that, but we feel it in that hidden place. So we have to get our idea of good enough aligned with Gods idea, and we have to take our focus off ourselves and on to him. We have to leave the pity party and rise to a new challenge. Someone is hurting worse than you and they would relish in the fact that you include them and care about them.&lt;br /&gt;I really think it all comes from insecurity and jealousy, which are both real damage makers in girl world.&lt;br /&gt;I posted a while back on wanting to be someone else or have what someone else has. Again I just want to say if we want to be them we are asking for all their, hard times, sad times, times of conviction, times of depression, times of sin, times of repentance, all the times that got them whatever blessing you are wanting to steal. And I bet it is hard to be on the receiving side of jealousy, I think if you are a person who has to hear how great it is to be you, I think it begins to rob you of the freedom to walk in Gods blessing. No one should be made to feel bad for what God has done for them. A pastor I heard once spoke about that, how so many people came against her because she had a nice house and nice things, she finally asked them “well have you ever bought someone a house, cause I have”. The point is we really don’t know what a person has been through, or what kind of obedience has been required to get them to where they are, and simply wanting their “good Life” is just asking for a short cut in our own life. A short cut will not lead to Gods fullness in your life .&lt;br /&gt;I think we do that to others because we have that spirit of second best, that never quite good enough, that forgotten mentality. Well, If that is true God could lift you to place of having everything sister sue has and you would be left still feeling not good enough, nothing man has, no amount of money, no husband, no kid, no job, no ministry, no talent nothing is going to get you there…..That is a place of peace and knowledge that only comes form God the father. And he loves to give good gifts and friend Knowing God loves you and knowing you are wanted, knowing you are good enough, is a real good gift.&lt;br /&gt;So let the greatest Friend you seek Be God, and let him lead you to the rest.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-1898221238072757857?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1898221238072757857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1898221238072757857' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1898221238072757857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1898221238072757857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-need.html' title='i need a......'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2384037991411825151</id><published>2008-08-26T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T07:32:04.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I will/he will not</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;This past weekend was full of so much fun and so many emotions.  The word Beth Moore had for us was at times overwhelming.  He is my portion and I am his.  I think it was extremly eye opening to just how much God almighty loves us.  Each of us, the same love.  After hearing that message on saturday I was at the mall in San Antonio and was fixing to sit down to eat in the food court, and it was packed.  I just took a quick glance at all those people and thought, wow God loves and longs for each and every one of them,  each of them has an inhertiance  if they will  take it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;It's been passed around a lot lately how the world is turned off of church often because of how they are treated or judged at church.  Even in our awesome time this weekend there was at least one person who felt let down, felt left out.  And I think it is okay and sometimes helpful to feel that.  Don't get me wrong we have to be sure to do our part to be there for people and to reach out when a need is presented.  But to that person who feels let down, God can speak volumes to that place.  He is the one who will not let you down.  He is the one who longs for you, and who delights in your searching for him.  He see YOU in a room of 10,000 people, in a world of millions, he sees YOU.  He wants you, and only he can fill that place in you, that desperate place for love and acceptance.  Man will not fill it, man will more than likely break it further.  God loves you so much and if you will just learn who you are in God as Beth said you will no longer walk in a room with your head down.  Because belonging to that love, &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;what can &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;man do to you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2384037991411825151?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2384037991411825151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2384037991411825151' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2384037991411825151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2384037991411825151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-willhe-will-not.html' title='I will/he will not'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6413061232193587328</id><published>2008-08-24T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T17:52:36.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>siesta fiesta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow what a weekend. I along with Jeanne, natalie and Jill flew to Texas to attended a Beth Moore conference, and meet with fellow siesta's from Beth's Blog. Fun started right away with a plane trip full of turbulance and skip bow. We landed (roughly) and had just enough time to freshen up and get to the first night of the conference. It is always exciting to see what Fresh Word God has given Beth. I am not ready to post on her word yet, it was deep and I am still taking it in. After the confernce we were hungry so we pretty much went to the first resturant we saw "steers and beers". I got a big ole texas steak...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho after a night of no sleep we got to the morning conference...more worship and more of an amazing word. A life changing word. And the first day I went ahead and got brave and chased down a lady that I was so excited to meet Ang, And thank goodness God set that up because after the first day I could not find her again. (Ang that was not enough time with you) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242333526197581842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="207" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SMCCkScguBI/AAAAAAAAAIg/A_Rp_nJhjrc/s320/IMG_2766.jpg" width="216" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For every event I tried to do my hair and as soon as I would step outside That darn texas humidity had it's own plan. After the conference on Saturday we had a chance to take a picture with Beth had her daughters then had a question and answer time. First my girl Jill got to ask Beth a question, she talked to BETH MOORE, and Beth called her precious....(and she so is)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeanne and I kept trying to get a turn at the mic but that did not happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all that we went to mall, and then did a little sight seeing. That night Jill and I attended a party with the other bloggers. I must admit I was nervous about that, I like the blog because I am free to write it all day and not have to do the person to person stuff, and now it was time for the two worlds to collide. Jill was the first to find a seat, and I followed her, God must have lead her to that seat, because all the nerves I had were diminished by the ladies there. Two of the ladies were from texas (heart of service and mocha with Linda) and man they were funny and sweet. And the other lady there was Racheal. Now let me tell you it takes me a long time to warm up to person enough to really be myself, well it was like I had known Racheal my entire life. I just can not explain how much having her there meant to me. I just like her so much. All of the ladies there were awesome, Kim and Patty who put the whole thing together were just as nice as I thought they would be. Fran was as welcoming as I thought she would be, and the same of melinda. Lisa was one of those people who really listen to you and who cares so deeply, love her. Boo and Big were amazing. Nesha was so sweet. Emily made me cry and she is just beautiful. Everyone kept telling me someone was looking for me but they could not remember who and I was looking for Emmy, it was almost time to go when we literally bumped into each other,(thanks to mom to 11) she was the one looking for me, but she was looking for me with long hair. Everyone said that about my hair, but I never thought I would meet these peeps, so I wanted my best shot on my profile! (but I changed it girls) Finding Emma topped off a perfect evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just too great and I loved every minute of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that I shared it with great friends! So thank you Jeanne, natalie and Jill for going with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-51bf8aeed900eeb1" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D51bf8aeed900eeb1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330259865%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1037B8B65C49FDBD1AD33A679B114BA38992BDA6.72D6A72C0AC4EEE7A72F1C4B395A830C7895C623%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D51bf8aeed900eeb1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DX5BtuOuNtQ7ZQyc4-l5HW6AkzNA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D51bf8aeed900eeb1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330259865%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1037B8B65C49FDBD1AD33A679B114BA38992BDA6.72D6A72C0AC4EEE7A72F1C4B395A830C7895C623%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D51bf8aeed900eeb1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DX5BtuOuNtQ7ZQyc4-l5HW6AkzNA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-6413061232193587328?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=51bf8aeed900eeb1&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6413061232193587328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6413061232193587328' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6413061232193587328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6413061232193587328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/siesta-fiesta.html' title='siesta fiesta'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SMCCkScguBI/AAAAAAAAAIg/A_Rp_nJhjrc/s72-c/IMG_2766.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1115072864718753522</id><published>2008-08-19T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:58:48.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>see ya sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;(2peter 1:5-9)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Many of our churches today are distracted from it's purpose, many Christians are distracted from their purpose. Jesus died for the sins of this world, he's trying to get us to see the sick, the hurting the lost. As a christian at some point you have to stop looking to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;fed(Hebrews 5:11-14) and look for who you can feed. No one is going to find a perfect church, or a perfect pastor.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;If I am not perfect I should not seek perfection in others. I would rather be a part of a church that understands inperfection and that understands the need for God's grace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Satan wants to distract us, and he does a good job most days. If he can get the church and it's core members to fight, then he has distracted them from the extended family God wants to bring to that church, you are distracted from adopting the hurting, you are not offering a place that offers love and forgiveness. If he can convince you it is you job to tell everyone what is wrong with them, satan is getting use out of that not God. Our purpose as a christian is not to keep the "me" in front. I am not to constantly bicker about what is not making me happy and about ways to better satisfy me. The character of christian is what can I do for you God? Who can I love who can I help, how can I serve you, how can I bring peace to this situation? WHO can I cover? Who can I tell about The love of Jesus, who can I love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;As a woman I really do get why Paul would tell the women in the church to be quiet. We tend to be the ones to stir up trouble, and to talk behind someones back. I am not saying men are not guilty of that too, I just know in my corner of the world it tends to be more towards the women. I guess if we searched hard enough it all circles back to insecurity. And that can be a source not an excuse. Girls we have got to fight to get past jealously, insecurity, gossiping, we have got to put off our former self, and be made new in Christ. I remember when the WWJD (what would Jesus do) phenomenon broke out, and while I am not suggesting you strap on your WWJD bracelet, the concept should not be lost. It's not always obvious how our "small sins" are actually big ones that are taring down the body of Christ. If satan played easy to get or fair, he would not catch many of us in his traps. But he is tricky and deceitful and distracting.&lt;/span&gt; I know I fall into some of the same traps daily. I am noticing more and more how I tend to what to know everything, not so I can pray about it, I just want to know. If I listen to gossip I am guilty of gossip, therefor guilty of tarring someone down, the one I am listening to and the one I am listening about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ephesians 5:21 says submit to one another out of reverence to for Christ. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paul knew our own will was not going to always be one of peace so if you can not get along naturally do it out of respect for God.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And to start doing better I would just study the word and obey even if you don't "feel" like it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Ephesians 4 Unity in the Body of Christ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;1As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. 2Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. 3Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. 4There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called— 5one Lord, one faith, one baptism; 6one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;29Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. 30And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. 32Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.&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/5007480593618286578-1115072864718753522?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1115072864718753522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1115072864718753522' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1115072864718753522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1115072864718753522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/see-ya-sunday.html' title='see ya sunday'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-8511418536195659633</id><published>2008-08-17T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T10:39:20.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>respect</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Usually when I sit down to blog I have everything I am going to say all planned out. Well not this time, I know I want to write just not sure what about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Today would have been my ten year anniversary, if things had turned out different. I have thought about that a lot today as I watched and listened to couples around me. I wish sometimes I could tell people, that they are chipping away at their chances of staying together, with the way they treat each other. Spouses snap too quickly at each other. Your Friend can tell you something and you act one way your spouse says the same thing and your attitude shifts. Why is that? What allows simple respect to escape our communication with one another. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;I love the show John and kate plus eight, But every time I watch it I get nervous that John is going to tell kate it's over, because of the way she talks to him. Often her biggest complaint is not that Jon did not do something but that he did not do it her way. I remember those days of being mad my ex did not help around the house, then when he did I'd go behind him doing most things over again. Why do we do that? I just hope if I can pass on any lessons learned, it would be to really examine how much respect you give your husband. I would encourage you to focus on building him up, and not allowing your self to become so comfortable with him that you think you have the right to talk down or harshly to him. Because the fact of the matter is, that marring him did not give you that right. I know you are gonna fight, I just ask you examine the language you choose to let out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;When a believer gets married Satan would love nothing more than to turn that marriage into a distraction from God. And for satan if he can use one believer to tare down another, I bet he delights in that. You are your husbands best weapon for being a better man of God, if you can love him and build him up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you single gals out there, don't let satan use that fact to distract you from God either. God can do great things in you now and you are not "waiting" for Gods will to begin it has begun, live it to the fullest. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love is patient&lt;/strong&gt;, love is kind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It is not rude&lt;/strong&gt;, it is not self-seeking, &lt;strong&gt;it is not easily anger&lt;/strong&gt;ed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;it keeps no record of wrongs&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It always protects&lt;/strong&gt;, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love never fails.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-8511418536195659633?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/8511418536195659633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=8511418536195659633' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8511418536195659633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8511418536195659633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/usually-when-i-sit-down-to-blog-i-have.html' title='respect'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3597003918125408465</id><published>2008-08-05T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T19:15:57.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rendered powerless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I woke up from a dead sleep the other night. Tossed and turned for a while and could not get back to sleep. Finally I said to God what do you want to tell me. The words rendered powerless came to me, then I was back to sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;So I have thought about those words everyday since. Am I rendered powerless?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Here are a few definitions of rendered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to transmit to another : deliver : give up, yield to give in return or retribution give back, to give in acknowledgment of dependence or obligation :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;And powerless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: devoid of strength or resources&lt;br /&gt;: lacking the authority or capacity to act&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Have I given up authority on something, or do I need to give up something? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;About a month ago I was on my face before God and I felt prompted to sit at the computer with a blank page and just ask God to speak to me, I would type whatever I felt and when I was done I had to read it because I really could not remember what I had typed. This is what He spoke to me that night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am worth it, I am for you. You need to worship me, I want you at any time to be able to worship me, I can not be hidden in your life. I can not live in a place that does not want all of me all the time. I can not heal you if you don’t let me, I can not give you rest or peace until I have all of you. I am all you need , I am. You are loved with me, you are safe with me, you are all you need to be, you! I am like your tears, you fight so hard to not cry, and you fight to not let me shine in you. I will use you, I will move in you, you are not only good enough, you are chosen . I have already choose you, and I am waiting on you to choose me. I want you&lt;br /&gt;TRUST ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Sometimes the world and life hits us so hard we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;often &lt;/span&gt;begin to loose sight of the fact the God is powerful and full of ideas for our lives, full of paths for us to be on at just the right time, paths that will lead us to be used for him, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chosen&lt;/span&gt; for such a moment&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Being woke up with words like rendered powerless, could be a chance to let &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;satan&lt;/span&gt; talk about our worthlessness, but God has made those words beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;And I love Gods &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;irony&lt;/span&gt; rendered powerless, creates power!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Rendered powerless= to give up (give back) authority (power) to God, to admit we &lt;strong&gt;need &lt;/strong&gt;God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3597003918125408465?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3597003918125408465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3597003918125408465' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3597003918125408465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3597003918125408465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/rendered-powerless.html' title='rendered powerless'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2928219363876804520</id><published>2008-08-01T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T08:40:11.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh this mouth of mine</title><content type='html'>I am posting my "in the word" post early this week..&lt;br /&gt;I Just have a Scripture on my mind and want to get out some thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GEN 9&lt;br /&gt;20 Noah, a man of the soil, proceeded to plant a vineyard. 21 When he drank some of its wine, he became drunk and lay uncovered inside his tent. 22 Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father's nakedness and told his two brothers outside. 23 But Shem and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Japheth&lt;/span&gt; took a garment and laid it across their shoulders; then they walked in backward and covered their father's nakedness. Their faces were turned the other way so that they would not see their father's nakedness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we have moments where we act as Ham did and moments we act as Shem and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Japheth&lt;/span&gt; did. I feel a real urging to really check to make sure we are vigilant in covering one another. I wonder if Shem and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Japheth&lt;/span&gt; encouraged one another to do the right thing, I wonder if Ham had an accountability partner at that moment, would he have chosen different. It is so important in our friendships to spur one another on. It is of no benefit to them or to us to simply listen to the gossip. Or to watch them act out without speaking up. And as a woman I know we got that gossiping mentality in us, we just want to know everything. And we do try to season it with grace by adding at the end of a really great story, "just pray for them". Speaking about so in so is not helping their race and it is slowing ours down.&lt;br /&gt;I work in a place where all the time everyone is talking about someone, and most the time I just listen, sometimes I join in, but lately I have either walked away or even stuck up for the person being talked about. Which is so hard for me, because I cringe at the thought of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;confrontation&lt;/span&gt;. But I want to be effective in my walk with God, so i need them to see more than the fact I don't cuss or that I don't get mad or some other things they point out about me. I need them to know I would not talk about them or listen to others talk about them , and that I would cover them.&lt;br /&gt;So just be on the lookout for not only ways to cover someone but also chances to choose to walk away.. from whatever...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2928219363876804520?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2928219363876804520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2928219363876804520' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2928219363876804520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2928219363876804520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/08/oh-this-mouth-of-mine.html' title='Oh this mouth of mine'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-4235536419362873606</id><published>2008-07-27T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T18:05:33.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't jump</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How long will we live on the ledge mentality with God. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have lived a good part of my life on that ledge. Keeping everyone guessing if I am really going to stick with God. At least in my heart that is how I lived, maybe know one knew it, maybe everyone thought I had it all together. With each trial sent my way I felt this is going to be the one, this is that push I need to give up on God or a life serving God, rather a life needing God. It started so early I remember being a little girl feeling like whoever could bail me out of some things then I would run with that life. Then as the choice became more clear and more mine, I always wondered if a life without God would be easier, and on more than several occasions I tip toed into that side. I got enticed and I even sought on purpose, things that I knew that would not bring any glory to God. I got so close to the ledge I could begin to feel the wind from the fall. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well After a childhood full of secrets, a teenager lost in chaos, the twenties searching for love, a woman who lost that love, a mom going it solo, I stand here today far from that ledge. I find myself sitting somewhere in the arms and safety of Gods love. I find my self more in Love with God then i ever thought possible. I find myself thankful for a life on the ledge so that I may fully understand a life that did not jump. I know when I could almost feel that wind I know it was God holding me in place when I had lost the will to fight. I can say with confidence I know I'm loved and I know God has a good plan for me, and nothing can separate me from the love of God, and I will choose nothing in my life will tare me from God&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See Friends if satan can take us out to that place all of our focus is on ourselves, on our choices, and his best weapon is an ineffective child of God. If he can make you doubt Gods love for you and Gods call on your life, oh man he has done a great injustice to you. And you are being robbed of peace, of joy, of life. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Galatians 5:7 says: You were running a good race, who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth 8 that kind of persuasion does not come from the one who calls you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't let the enemy cut in on your race!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Psalm 118&lt;br /&gt;1 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;his love endures forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2 Let Israel say: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"His love endures forever."&lt;br /&gt;3 Let the house of Aaron say:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"His love endures forever."&lt;br /&gt;4 Let those who fear the LORD say: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"His love endures forever."&lt;br /&gt;5 In my anguish I cried to the LORD,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and he answered by setting me free.&lt;br /&gt;6 The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What can man do to me?&lt;br /&gt;7 The LORD is with me; he is my helper.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will look in triumph on my enemies.&lt;br /&gt;8 It is better to take refuge in the LORD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;than to trust in man.&lt;br /&gt;9 It is better to take refuge in the LORD&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;than to trust in princes.&lt;br /&gt;10 All the nations surrounded me, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but in the name of the LORD I cut them off.&lt;br /&gt;11 They surrounded me on every side,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but in the name of the LORD I cut them off.&lt;br /&gt;12 They swarmed around me like bees, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but they died out as quickly as burning thorns; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;in the name of the LORD I cut them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;13 I was pushed back and about to fall, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;but the LORD helped me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;14 The LORD is my strength and my song;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he has become my salvation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#003333;"&gt;The ledge is no longer a place of choice it is now simply a place of reflection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-4235536419362873606?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/4235536419362873606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=4235536419362873606' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4235536419362873606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4235536419362873606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/dont-jump.html' title='Don&apos;t jump'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-5181893564586060572</id><published>2008-07-24T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T08:22:33.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We just got home from hanging out with Jeanne and her crew. All was great until Josie decided she wanted to play with Ethan(which I so love to watch my son with little Josie), leaving Elissa mad. So in her anger she hid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; of Ethan's. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So on the drive home I was telling her you should not react in anger, and just because you do not get your way etc....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I decided since it was Ethan she took it out on I would let Ethan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;decide&lt;/span&gt; her grounding. Now I know growing up if my brother had the chance to ground me I would be left only allowed to breath. So he thought for a minute and announced "well I pick that she is not grounded" Oh the grace that flows from that boy. Elissa then says "I have one thing to say to Ethan, I'm sorry" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kindness led to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;repentance&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&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/5007480593618286578-5181893564586060572?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/5181893564586060572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=5181893564586060572' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5181893564586060572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5181893564586060572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/grace.html' title='Grace'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2768109295793078382</id><published>2008-07-22T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T21:28:32.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>press on</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love watching movies about how we used to fight wars. In the line of fighting you could be in the war but not in the battle yet. Then when it's your time to be that front line, you can either fight or you could retreat. Often I have felt like I can forget that I am in a war, a war to keep satan from having any say in my life. And when I am undeniably in the battle I feel the desire to retreat, and the need to press on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am reminded today that the battle is real, and the decision to stay is hard, but it is so worth it to fight. Their are things in my life that I have wrestled with and I have began the battle only to retreat at the first easy way out. I am tired of this fight, I dont want to start over anymore, I want this time to be the time I press on and move on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For now I would like anyone who reads this to pray for strength and for wisdom for me, I'll tell ya more later&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2768109295793078382?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2768109295793078382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2768109295793078382' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2768109295793078382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2768109295793078382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/press-on.html' title='press on'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-4328777539164416503</id><published>2008-07-19T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T19:45:24.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in the word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Okay so it's Saturday, but I won't be around on Sunday.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Since I had success with the flip open method last week lets try again.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;psalms51:10-12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;create in me a pure heart. O God &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and renew a steadfast spirit with in me &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do not cast me from your presence&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;or take your Holy Spirit from me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Restore to me the joy of your salvation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well that just makes a great prayer. The part the really stuck out to me was restore the joy of YOUR salvation. David did not say the joy of "my" salvation. Gods children need to find out what the joy of his salvation offers. we need to go beyond our box, and our idea of relationship, lets go deeper.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;God has so joy for us, so many promises to fulfill, so much peace to offer. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That takes me to the verse in Matthew 7&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;God wants and delights in giving good gifts, you are his child, whom he loves....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;Bask in some worhip if you have time.... Let God wrap his arms around you, dance with your father for a while..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; This song is like 1o minutes long, this is just four minutes of it (and the last minute is black on purpose)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-be48eee594d1166d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbe48eee594d1166d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330259865%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D806B53962CCF85CCA008959C459D2E53DE7D8A95.4A6C190750DD905167CC82A42DC2AAE58CD94E61%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbe48eee594d1166d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DTTJmIArD1YMch-1iUObmR6namlg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbe48eee594d1166d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330259865%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D806B53962CCF85CCA008959C459D2E53DE7D8A95.4A6C190750DD905167CC82A42DC2AAE58CD94E61%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbe48eee594d1166d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DTTJmIArD1YMch-1iUObmR6namlg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-4328777539164416503?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=be48eee594d1166d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/4328777539164416503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=4328777539164416503' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4328777539164416503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4328777539164416503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-word.html' title='in the word'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3281362367361484434</id><published>2008-07-17T16:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T17:22:15.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>show us your Glory</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just got back from an awesome time with God.  I went to a revival going on in my area.  It's been going since like March i think.  Some have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; it's their calling to tell others it's not God, or true or whatever.  The main guy has a past that would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shock&lt;/span&gt; the socks off anyone.  It's funny that anyone would judge a man for his past, so much of our life lessons come from Paul in the bible, HELLO the guy used to kill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Christians&lt;/span&gt;.  Or have ya read what David did?  God does not look for perfect people.  And I just tell people if they are seeking a man, they will get the man, seek God and you'll get God.  Actually the reason I finally decided to go was because this amazing worship leader, Heather Clark, was going to be there.  (that's who you should hear playing)  I was just hungry to soak in Gods presence through some great worship music.   It was beyond my expectations, the presence of God was heavy and full.   It was overwhelming that so many people showed up to seek God, people of every race, and different countries, different classes, different religious ideas, different needs, different stages of life, but everyone had a bite of the same freedom.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I saw little kids with their hands raised praising God, it was beautiful.  God used Heather to love us, and to bless us as we sang to him.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It was actually kind of disappointing when the music stopped.   The message was good, but sometimes I fear that we really think we (man) have to be involved and in control for things to transition correctly.   At one point it was said that God needs us to take it to the nations, it just kind of bumped me the wrong way.  God does not "need" us.  We know from the old testament he can use a donkey if he wants to.  We know from Paul, he can send an angel, To moses he can use a bush.   We should never become so sure of ourselves to say God "needs" us, no friend he wants us, we've been invited, we get to be blessed enough to share a great and mighty gift.  Our lives are better because we let God use us where ever he will.  God wants you!!!!  God chose you!!!  &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/5007480593618286578-3281362367361484434?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3281362367361484434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3281362367361484434' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3281362367361484434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3281362367361484434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/show-us-your-glory.html' title='show us your Glory'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1305954952184711611</id><published>2008-07-12T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T21:23:57.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>getting in the word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;The title says it all. I just posted a comment on the siesta fiesta blog that I really need to get in the word more. And since I love to blog, why not combine the two. So I am going to try to post something from the word every Sunday. I am going to try to have a "just flip it open" moment and see what I get... here goes..... Ohhhhh that worked out well....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I flipped to 1Corinthians 12:14-30...go ahead and read it, I'll wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I think it really goes well with what I posted about us wanting what someone else has. It is again about the pit of insecurity. God never wanted what he led us to be, to become a weapon for the enemy to use, to use to tell us we are not needed, or important. That is not a God given thought pattern, it's a pit and a stronghold that needs to be broken, it is a lie for the one who wants nothing more than to destroy you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;The verse that stuck out the most was 26&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;It is again about getting to a place where we can truly rejoice for the good in others lives without have a pity party for ourselves. It is a hard battle to defeat that self centered thought life. I know I have not done it well, When I went through my divorce I found it hard to be happy when someone would tell me they were getting married. I have come along from that way of being. But there is another side to that verse. When one suffers we all suffer. I think as a church we have to make sure we are leaving our comfort zone to really be there for others, to lift each others up in prayer. I was thinking about Jesus when he was close to death and he asked his Friends to pray for him, but they kept falling asleep. I know I fall asleep alot when I should be more vigilant in praying for others. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-1305954952184711611?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1305954952184711611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1305954952184711611' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1305954952184711611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1305954952184711611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/getting-in-word.html' title='getting in the word'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-8884313996965443730</id><published>2008-07-08T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T15:25:54.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday ETHAN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPncFsfMgI/AAAAAAAAAFA/7hF1RQ4Hg2U/s1600-h/_DSC7525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220770862803661314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPncFsfMgI/AAAAAAAAAFA/7hF1RQ4Hg2U/s320/_DSC7525.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPjxzEXUpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/woROBMWIev8/s1600-h/_DSC7453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220766837714145938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPjxzEXUpI/AAAAAAAAAE4/woROBMWIev8/s320/_DSC7453.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPjfa2KbSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WpDIzgeOlN0/s1600-h/ethan+9th+0171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220766521974484258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPjfa2KbSI/AAAAAAAAAEw/WpDIzgeOlN0/s320/ethan+9th+0171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What a day!!! My baby boy turned nine today. We had a day full of fun, friends and awesome laser tag. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where in the world did nine years go. So today's blog is all about Ethan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember one of the first moments I realized what an amazing character Ethan has. We were at a park, I think he was five and a large group of kids joined forces and were all playing together, Ethan fit right in and joined the fun. Then he split from the frenzy of kids because he saw one little boy sitting alone, He came to me and asked "mom can I just play with him, so he wont be alone". And He has been that type of kid ever since. He has no problem putting others before himself. He takes it on himself to make sure everyone stays happy. His compassion is way beyond that of a nine year old. I love that little man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since Ethan is my first baby he was the one to hit places in my heart that were undiscovered until he was born. Since I am adopted, Ethan was my first blood relative, it was amazing to have that for the first time. He softened me, and shaped me, I am a better person because he is my son. &lt;/div&gt;When Ethan was one I took him with me on a church retreat, and I remember singing a third day song, It was about God Sending Jesus to die for us.  I looked at my son, and in that moment I was humbled and brought to my knees with the reality of Gods gift to us.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I Love you Ethan!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-8884313996965443730?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/8884313996965443730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=8884313996965443730' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8884313996965443730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8884313996965443730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-birthday-ethan.html' title='Happy Birthday ETHAN'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SHPncFsfMgI/AAAAAAAAAFA/7hF1RQ4Hg2U/s72-c/_DSC7525.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1703756524487933105</id><published>2008-07-04T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T21:34:04.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>REFINE ME</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;There is a song by Jennifer Knapp called “refine me”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt; (&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;it's here on my blog scroll down to playlist if u want to&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;That song stuck me hard today. It says:&lt;br /&gt;I come into this place&lt;br /&gt;Burning to receive your peace&lt;br /&gt;I come with my own chains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wars I fought for my own selfish gain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;You’re my God and My father&lt;br /&gt;I’ve accepted your son&lt;br /&gt;But my soul feels so empty now&lt;br /&gt;What have I become&lt;br /&gt;Lord come with your fire&lt;br /&gt;Burn my desires&lt;br /&gt;Refine me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lord my will has deceived me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please come and free me&lt;br /&gt;Refine me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My heart cant see&lt;br /&gt;When I only look at me&lt;br /&gt;My soul cant hear when&lt;br /&gt;I only think of my own fears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;They are gone in a moment&lt;br /&gt;You’re forever the same&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why did I ever look away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Wars I fought for my own selfish gain! How many times do we enter into needless battles. How many times does God send us a red flag that we ignore. Today was one of those days where I had the flag and I understood the battle. I really felt like I could see down the road I was thinking of, see some of the pits I would be asking for. So I think it is amazing that there can still be a choice. But around every turn it’s there, there is the straight road and the left turn or the right turn, a temptation to, just for a moment take our eyes off God, and a moment to just give into that selfish desire. Fear seems to lead the way off the road so many times, if it’s not fear to the left, it’s pity to the right. We get down and begin to feel sorry for ourselves, making a turn off the path seem like a quick fix for a broken heart, or a tired soul. Temptation is never going away, actually the closer you get to God the more Satan will throw at you.&lt;br /&gt;I am asking him toady for a boldness for him&lt;br /&gt;Lord I pray you refine me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-1703756524487933105?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1703756524487933105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1703756524487933105' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1703756524487933105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1703756524487933105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/07/refine-me.html' title='REFINE ME'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-7140657040295734687</id><published>2008-06-29T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T15:37:36.464-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanna be you</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Something that has been on my mind a lot lately is how jealous and insecure we allow ourselves to get. How many times have we heard about something good happening to someone, then find ourselves either asking God why he does not do that for us, or maybe even passing judgment on them for the thing God gave them. How many women have said I wanna be Beth Moore or have what Beth Moore has.&lt;br /&gt;Or I wish I had a house like Jeanne, or a husband like Aaron, a voice like Jill, talent like Jenny, a job like Deborah…&lt;br /&gt;I know we have all done it, I will admit I have.&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, we are only wishing we had their results, ya know. We want their victories, we don’t want to ever have to go through what Beth Moore had to go through to get to where she is. So you want to be someone else, are you equipped to face what they have faced? God has called you to be you, if you are saying “ya know God if only I could sing like Jennifer, I could do great things for you” It’s the same as telling God you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t get it right, The I you created can not do it. Let God use your story and what ever it is YOU have been through, let God take that and do great works. You are good enough just as you are, You can not be better as someone else. I just want to be happy for what God gives my friends, and what God does through great leaders like Beth, I don’t want to live there story, I want my own. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-7140657040295734687?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/7140657040295734687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=7140657040295734687' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7140657040295734687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/7140657040295734687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-wanna-be-you.html' title='I wanna be you'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-5141904255113923225</id><published>2008-06-24T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T19:26:39.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bible college and alcohol</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wildwood&lt;/span&gt; Assembly in the mid nineties more than liking you went off to bible college, after high school. I joined the southeastern crew in August of 96. It even worked out that Jeanne could be my roommate. Just so perfect! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take in mind that I was joining this world from a life of chaos. College was to be my escape, my chance to be free from any pain that was still lingering. This college was like therapy on steroids. Everything inside of me, just began to swell up. I knew I wanted God and I wanted to feel happy, and I wanted to feel normal, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't. I reached out to certain people there and made some great connections, but I just got burned out on chasing God.  Everyday in chapel felt like I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;suffocating.  Dealing with my need for God veruses my desire to run, was a battleing I wanted out of. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soon I made new connections outside of school. I began to find easier ways to be happy. I could drink it all away, I could party without a care in the world. So I did. I wanted to fit in anywhere I could, and it was just easier to fit in with the party crowd. I not only fit in I was the life of the party.   I had got to the point where I just could not stand who I was, but with alcohol, I was someone different, someone fun, someone who had it all together. I think to,  it was easy to be weak because up until that time I &lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt; to be strong for everyone else. I did not want to be strong anymore, I did not want to remember sad times, I did not want to seek a God who never answered, I just wanted to be numb. The first semester at college God had began the healing process for me, I just took resisting to a new level. To be healed we have to admit we hurt.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Looking back that time is such a blur, I was so void, so lost, but looking back I was so looked after.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; God let me run, but never out of his sight. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;Isaiah 54:10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;Though the mountians be shaken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;and the hills be removed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;yet my unfailing love for you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;will not be shaken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;nor my convenant of peace be removed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;says the Lord who has &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#663366;"&gt;compassion on you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-5141904255113923225?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/5141904255113923225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=5141904255113923225' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5141904255113923225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/5141904255113923225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/bible-college-and-alcohol.html' title='Bible college and alcohol'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3718781924118557904</id><published>2008-06-21T20:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T20:07:49.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All you need is Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;There is a sign on my way to work that reads "watch your thoughts, they become words. Watch your words they become character"I was talking to a friend the other day, this is one of those friends that I do not see very often, in fact until this last time I think it had been a year. But when we see each other it's like we were never apart. She was a huge instrument of God in my life when I was going through my divorce. And I was telling her last week what a great role she played for me. She was surprised to hear me say that, she felt she did not do enough. She did not really call me often through it, or come to see me. So what was it she did (other than pray). It was her character that I needed, that I relied on. I knew at that moment when things were too dark that I could show up at her house and cry on her couch, that she would be there to pray and read Scriptures and just listen. It's that Jesus driven character. She had love to heal not judge. When Jesus walked through a town people knew without a doubt they could call out to him. It did not matter what they had done, what sickness they had, or how many people tried to quiet them, they Knew Jesus was Love. I want that to be my character. I want people to know I can just love them. Where did the world go so wrong to take love and exchange it for judgement. I have never read where Jesus made anyone feel bad for who they were, other than the religious leaders. When Jesus got water from the Samaritan woman, what was his character, when he loved on the little kids what was his character, even when he was facing death what was his character...Too often people can not cry out for help, because the "christian character" is one of judgement or they are scared of the gossip line AKA the prayer line. I have never understood the abortion picket lines.... That woman or girl going in to that office being starred at and judged by the very people who could help her if they would put down the sign, put down the judgement and extend some love. If a woman was raped, and decides to abort, what does your sign do to heal her? If a girl has no one to help her, with the three kids she already can not feed, will your sign help her? How many kids are you willing to adopt? I choose to love you no matter what you choose. It's hard sometimes to look past some stuff and just be there for people instead of pointing fingers. It takes a lot of love to get a good character!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-3718781924118557904?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3718781924118557904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3718781924118557904' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3718781924118557904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3718781924118557904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-you-need-is-love_21.html' title='All you need is Love'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-4263751966280165271</id><published>2008-06-15T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T06:29:37.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The teen years</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I used to wish I could run away and somehow go back in time to little house on the prairie. I would ride my bike there, and Laura would be my friend. Together we would forever ruin Nelly. I would go there with fifty dollars, in walnut grove I would be the rich kid. I think as kids we all pretend to be someone else or create a better world in our heads. As kids it’s fun and silly, little boys getting in card board boxes that will blast them to the moon. Little girls living in a real Barbie dream house, with Barbie as there best friend, and Ken as there boyfriend. Somewhere between the trip to the moon and our first encounter with real pain, that innocent game of pretend turns to something else. It seems to turn to a road that leads us to believe we are not good enough. We stop wanting to be Barbie’s friend, we start wanting to be Barbie. We would rather be anyone than who we are. Sometime around the age of fifteen, I wanted to be anyone but me. I had friends and I had a boyfriend, and I went to church, and in that package it all looked good. And man at fifteen I could make people laugh, I could be the silliest person you’d ever meet. I could wear that mask on cue. My acting days started at fifteen. I had a very different life at home, no one was laughing . I really cant remember how it started, but at some point the man I had known as my dad began to slip away. He had always been a hard working good ole country man. He worked to provide for his family, he loved his wife and his kids. He never said so but we knew he did. Then slowly he became a crazy man. No really he was crazy. I am sure there is a better term for it, but at fifteen for me it was just crazy. He began to scream all the time, and drink and constantly threaten to kill himself or kill my mom. I had to hide his keys from him, or get chased in the cow field trying to keep him from driving. I guess this is where I began to get hard (I just looked up hard, here are more words for it: cruel, callous, severe, unkind, brutal, thick-skinned, strict, remorseless, pitiless, harsh, tough. I was all of those) I really did not care if he drove off the road I just thought he may kill someone else in the process. Our crazy home life became normal to me. Once my friend Mallory called to see if she needed to pick me up for church and in the process of talking to her my parents began to fight over a gun, each one wanting the bullet for themselves. In my nonchalant attitude I put the phone down and wrestled and won over the gun. Then picked up the phone and asked Mallory to please come pick me up. I am sure I went to church and did my clown act. I wanted to be sad all the time, I wanted people to hug me and tell me everything would be okay, but it was not okay. And I was starting to see no one wanted to pretend with me, so I tried to keep it all in. Things went from bad to worse. One night after a long day of fighting my dad got a rope and came real close to ending it. He would have died but we cut him down and the impact of the fall from the tree to the ground knocked breath back into him. Here is where I scared myself, I didn’t want to help cut him down. It’s over let him die. I thought maybe if he is gone there will be peace. My brother happened to be there that night to help my mom. I guess God saw through my mask. He knew the extent of my sadness. He also knew one day I would be glad me dad lived, he knew he would turn out to be a great papa to my kids, and he made sure that happened. But God let me stand back God let me get mad, and he loved me even though I thought I wanted my dad to be dead. What a big God we serve.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I always had a good sad story ready to be told, and with a few I let them see the broken me. But then I had a good friend tell me, “Lori at some point you just have to get over it“. Get over it, I was still going through it. I wish she could have shown me how to get over it, I wanted to get over it. Of course now I know my friend was just as broken as I was. We all hurt, and we all wear mask, and sometimes we just run slap out of compassion. That’s what I did I ran out of compassion the night my dad hung there from that big oak tree. But my friends words silenced me for a long time. I didn’t want to tell my sad story. I could have more friends if I was just funny and happy.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I would have been able to see that the friends God was sending me at that time were deep friendships that could be what I needed to get through to get free. Some didn’t last but the ones that did are still going today. I think I was around fifteen or sixteen when I met Jeanne. No matter which side of me she sees, no matter how ugly the moment is she loves me anyway. Another life saver God sent me at that time was Lesli. Lesli let me be sad, she used to let me stay with her, and she would sing to me. It’s amazing what music can do to ones soul. It put such a hope in me, that I knew I could love this world again. Music at that time helped me believe in God. God was someone who I knew from a far, I had not yet allowed him to love me, but when Lesli would sing, my connection to God grew bigger. I wonder if she knows what she did for me. I hope I keep learning to really tell people the role they have played in my life. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Looking back now this part of my story, I know this is the part where satan really thought he had me. But it turned out to be what God used to strengthen me, and to bind me to him forever.&lt;/strong&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/5007480593618286578-4263751966280165271?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/4263751966280165271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=4263751966280165271' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4263751966280165271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4263751966280165271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/teen-years.html' title='The teen years'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-827692043897879028</id><published>2008-06-11T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T08:03:53.455-07:00</updated><title type='text'>forever came</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Here is a little more of my story, I post this only with the hope that someone who reads it, may get a little help in their story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last wedding I went to was my really good friend Deborah’s’. I don’t cry at weddings, but I cried from start to finish in this one. My then husband was on the verge of leaving our marriage. If my daughter had not been her flower girl I would not have gone. They had a beautiful outside wedding. I stood there watching her tell this guy that she’d love him forever and him saying he’d love her forever. I had to either cry or laugh. What a joke forever was to me. I wanted to help them say new vows. How about you tell her you will love her until you run out of love, and maybe you’ll get lucky and never run out. (although now, that the bitterness is gone I look and Deborah and just see a great love story)&lt;br /&gt;I met Harry when I was nineteen. I was going to a bible college and waiting tables at night. I remember when he got hired at the restaurant I worked at. He was a strange one. He’d come in with his big curly hair and his big bag of poetry, most of which were written on napkins. Then one day I gave him a ride home. He is such a talker, so that day he talked about life and all his thoughts on the world. And what he wants out of life. He had such passion. I had never met anyone so full of dreams. It caught me off guard how much I liked him. So we went on a date, and it was the kind of date you see in the movies, it was so perfect. Then the magic really happened when I went to see his band play at some little hole in the wall. He was amazing on stage. I was hooked. I had quit college and moved back home, and stared delivering pizza. One night I was headed to work and just could not stand how much I missed Harry so I drove right past work and went down to see him. Another movie moment, it was pouring rain and lighting was crashing, I knocked on his door drenched from the rain, I think that is when he got really hooked. Two months later we went to the court house and promised forever.&lt;br /&gt;I quickly got Harry in church with me. And we both stared to play the role. I wish I could say for certain what went wrong, or where it went wrong. I know we both made a lot of mistakes. I know I did not let him in fully, and I tried to change him and he tried to be changed. I could never say I am sorry or I was wrong or even thank you. I did not support the very dreams that had once made me fall in love with him. We got lost, we both got so lost. Two kids later, life drained all of the joy from us. We loved our kids and we had a lot to be thankful for. But he and I did not laugh together we did not live in each other we simply existed in the same house. Until one day there was nothing left to fight for. And he walked away. If I had fought as hard as I did at the end, throughout our marriage, then I think we would have made it. I could write an entire book on all the mistakes we made. But they each come down to being real. When I was sad and wanted him to just hold me, I told him by nagging him about being at work too much. When I was jealous and insecure, I handled that by making him feel bad about himself. He was more of the hold it all in type, and when he was tired of holding it in, he shut the door and never came back. He never told me until he left that he was tired of God and tired of living a lie. I was tired of living a lie too. I still wonder why we felt we had to lie in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;So watching Deborah on her wedding day I hoped that she would be real, and Wendell would be real. I hope if you are married and up until now you have not been honest, then you will fix that right now, today. If we could just say what we really want and what we really feel………..things could really be different. Your husband or your wife is the person who gets the all access pass. You should be able to share yours thoughts, your dreams, or insecurities, the best of you and the worst of you. You choose each other, and next to choosing God, that is the most beautiful design of love, the most perfect picture of acceptance. I know as the human race we are by nature a selfish people, but we have got to learn to put the people we love before ourselves. I wish I could have let Harry succeed without my jealousy getting in the way. But I wanted to be important, so to make myself more than I was I used my words to tare him down. It’s so crazy that my biggest fear was him leaving me so I did everything I could to push him away. If I had not lived in that fear I could have just loved him. What if I had told him my fears, maybe he could have calmed them. My ex and I have gotten to a place of friendship, and we really do raise our kids to together, so if you can have a “good” divorce, we do.&lt;br /&gt;Here is my short list of things I wish I had done or not done while married to him.&lt;br /&gt;1. I wish I would have supported his dreams more.&lt;br /&gt;2. I wish I would have said more things to build him up&lt;br /&gt;3. I wish I would not have ever called him names&lt;br /&gt;4. I wish I would have let him be my best friend&lt;br /&gt;5. I wish I would have defended him more&lt;br /&gt;6. I wish I would have shown him the kind of Love that comes from God&lt;br /&gt;7. I wish I would not have kept him from my heart&lt;br /&gt;8. I wish I would have not needed to be right&lt;br /&gt;9. I wish I would have told him when I needed him&lt;br /&gt;10. I wish I would have seen him as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;Now let me tell you it is really hard not to make a list of “I wish he would have”, but that is what God it doing in me. If I can focus on me and do what God leads me to do, then I will be giving God room to do what he wants to do in that other person. And while we have moved on from our relationship I still have to see him how God wants me to so that our kids will do the same. Too often I see bitterness take hold of broken hearts and the kids have to suffer, they hear to much, to many times they hear you talk such harsh words about their parent. If only we could look past our heart to see theirs. Let their dad or their mom still be their hero.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-827692043897879028?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/827692043897879028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=827692043897879028' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/827692043897879028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/827692043897879028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/forever-came.html' title='forever came'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-4048577072702690652</id><published>2008-06-08T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T18:55:24.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>if thats what it takes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am really not sure what God is up to in my life.  I feel like I used to feel at the start of my track races.  Great anticipation, accompanied by fear of the unknown.  Should I be in this race, will I be able to finish, what will every think if I loose, or worse quit.  Lately I have felt outside of myself, I can feel God stirring inside of me and I can see the enemy's darts.  Every time I think I am past something it comes around for one last right hook.   And today I was not ready, and that right hook almost knocked me out, but wouldn't you know it, as I was falling I felt his arms so I fell without fear and just rested a bit, and soon I will get up.  I will grieve this and move on.  Anyone who knows me knows I just really don't cry, I get sad of course but the tears just don't come...But with whatever it is God is doing, all I can do is cry.  I know I want this move and at the same time I am starting to see what I am gonna have to be giving up..  I know in hind sight I will be saying I am glad I did, but here now, living this moment.....I just feel powerless and defeated... I am going to do what God is asking, but I feel powerless to do so, He will be my strength.  I really think after this I am going to be rid of some stuff that has been buried and locked and even forgotten.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Matthew 13:45 says  the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. 46 when he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and brought it.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#333300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I bet that merchant had some really great stuff, I bet he looked at some of his things and said man how can I let go of that.  But if that's what it takes to have this pearl, I'll do it.  &lt;/em&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/5007480593618286578-4048577072702690652?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/4048577072702690652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=4048577072702690652' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4048577072702690652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/4048577072702690652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/if-thats-what-it-takes.html' title='if thats what it takes'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-8589220472792374754</id><published>2008-06-07T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T20:27:44.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little more</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;At some point love got really twisted to me. I had to be something I was not to receive love. I had to be good enough. I knew I was not good enough. I didn’t really believe that God loved me. I didn’t really love God. The first church I went to as a kid, made God scary for me. I always thought he was looking down waiting for strike three so he could send me to hell. And things just did not add up. The preacher always had something to say about how close hell can be than he would talk about grace and love. I could never understand grace that close to hell. I pictured God holding us all on a rope and some he would let make it up and others he’d cut them off the rope. Many times I thought I had already been cut, because I did not feel a lot of grace in my life. And love didn’t add up either. Were we to love everyone, or just those that thought and looked like us. If it had been simply love everyone, I would have been okay with that. But I remember one Sunday our preacher who up until that day I trusted and respected. He stood up before the congregation, and proceeded to ask us to please pray for his son, he said he had gone astray, because at school he has decided to have a black girlfriend. I waited to hear what he had done to need prayer, but that was it, he had a black girlfriend. Now love made no sense, who do we love, white people. I just didn’t get it. So I stopped going to that church. My next church was where my journey to God started and almost ended. I would probably not have gotten through my teenage years without the connections I made there. That’s where I met Lesli and Jeanne and Sam and Mallory and so many invaluable stones in my path. But the connection with God stayed twisted. Now here you could love black people, so that was good. But somehow you and to be one of the chosen ones to really fit in. I always wondered what they had that I did not. I know they must have had secret “we are it” club meetings. There was a lot to live up to also. Maybe I was not in the club cause I liked the movie Forrest Gump, I remember a whole sermon on why it was bad. I watched it after that sermon, and I tried to be holy and hate it, but I loved it. Of course I told members of the club I agreed with them. Looking back I know why I did not fit in, I was as fake as they came. I was the clown to hide the pain and I said what ever I thought would please everyone. I wonder if I had spoken my own truth, I think they would have elected me their president.&lt;br /&gt;My years at that church taught me a lot. The biggest lesson I walked away with, is we are all human and we all screw it up. Deep down we all want to be good and kind, but we are selfish and a jealous people. We all lie to each other, weather it is about our own sin or our own struggle, we all lie. We want everyone to see us for what we want to be but never for who we are. I wanted to be so important there, and I never was. Looking back I can see why I was there, I was there to learn but not to live. I was there to meet people who would change my life, and I was there to understand that playing church is not enough. &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/5007480593618286578-8589220472792374754?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/8589220472792374754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=8589220472792374754' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8589220472792374754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8589220472792374754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-more.html' title='A little more'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-443874819597407070</id><published>2008-06-05T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T18:42:51.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What could have been</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;I am in the process of writing a little book about my past, I gues more like a jornal for me, but I just thought I would share some of it here. It's a lot to read so it's ok if you don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#003333;"&gt;I fought over where to start this journey. Do I start where my husband walked out on me, do I start where my dad tried to kill himself, or maybe I should start where I joined the army. Nah, lets do the typical thing and start at the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;I was born in a small town…… ok maybe that is too far back. Fast forward six years. I was six years old the day my mom sat me down and explained to me about being adopted. I already knew I was adopted, I guess I always knew. But I remember being six when I finally got to talk about it, and even was allowed the chance to ask questions. I was so excited, I had all sorts of questions, like can I meet my birth mom, which turned out to be the end of the conversation. That question sent mom to tears. So that was the big adoption talk. From there on I dealt with adoption in my own head. I wish mom could have seen my question as me dealing with rejection not me rejecting her. I get it now as an adult, I was her baby and she loved me, and the thought of me wanting to know about the woman who gave birth to me, put fear of loosing me in her. I get it now, but boy growing up that was a great, weapon for low self esteem. At six I started feeling disconnected and different. It didn’t affect me to the point anyone would have known, I was a happy kid, almost every day. I think the next time I dealt with it was ninth grade biology, when we had to write our family history for a genetics study. My genetics were a secret. And I secretly felt like an alien in that class, and everyone could tell I was different, like they could see that my genetics were missing. Being adopted was my excuse to listen to the enemy tell me I am not good enough. But if I had not been adopted I know I would have found another excuse. So what would I say to that six year old or that ninth grader.&lt;br /&gt;Dear adopted Lori&lt;br /&gt;Okay first of all you are adopted, get over it. You are here, and that is a good thing. You were born to a mom that loved you, she did not reject you, she loved you. And she gave you to a mom that can not only love but also take care of you. Something that at sixteen she could not do. When you feel like you don’t belong or you feel different from everyone around you, know that adoption is not the reason for that. You are in this world as a guest to meet and greet as many people as you can before God calls you to come home. Sweet girl you are not rejected you are chosen.&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is a good place to finish out the adoption story. By the time I was eighteen I had done enough snooping in my moms stuff to know the name and number of the adoption agency who had my records. So October 21, 1997 I made the call. I was not ready to make that call. And I could not tell anyone cause then mom may find out and I would make her feel bad again. So I sat in my room dialing all but one number for about two hours. Then I pushed the last number and the woman on the other end was on her game cause she answered before I could hang up. So I preceded to tell her my name. Now I really thought I would make the call and get on some two year waiting list. But wouldn’t you know God was ready that day to end the eighteen year rejection mindset. The woman on the other end said she couldn’t believe I was calling, because my birth mom had just called yesterday and she had all of her information sitting right in front of her. It was unbelievable and very overwhelming. The agency had me write Tina (that’s my birth mom) a letter and they would send it to her. A letter, a letter to my birth mom. Now I could really ask questions. I felt like a salesman trying to show why this product is worth having. It was hard, I had so many emotions at that time in my life. I was dealing with a lot, and I just wanted to feel good inside and I thought finding Tina would be the key. So I wrote the letter and the postal service must have been on sonic speed cause like five days later I had a letter from her in my hands. Tina was everything you think you would want a birth mom to be. She was very ready to meet me, said she had thought about me everyday for eighteen years. She never had more kids, so that put even more excitement in her to meet me. I really think I would have done better if she had not wanted anything to do with me. I already dealt with her not wanting me, I lived very well in my own self pity. That sense of rejection had taken hold and help define who I was. But I was not ready to handle her loving me and wanting me. At eighteen I had already become a “hard” person, I didn’t like to be hugged or to say I love you, I never wanted to need anyone or even be needed. But Tina did not read my manual, cause she needed me, she needed me to say I love you and to hug her and to take the pain of not having me away. She needed our reunion to bring us both peace and bring us together. I wish I could start over and meet Tina for the first time again. I did not do it well the first time. I saw her twice over the next two years, then waited until my daughter , Elissa, was three to see her again. She has never seen my son, Ethan. I know now even though it has taken me too long to get it together it is not too late. As an eighteen year old I would not look outside myself, but as a thirty year old I want to be Tina’s friend, and give her as much of me as I can. I want to do it for her and for me. I do love her. My Friends Nattile and Ryan just adopted twins, and they really got to know the birth mom. Watching their story unfold, has really woke me up to what an amazing thing Tina did. Looking back I wish I would have taken myself out of the picture. Wouldn’t it be great if we could see how selfish we are and actually change. I wish I could have dealt with my issue’s on my own but still be there for Tina. I wish I could have made her feel wanted. I wish I would have had the kind of reunion that you’d see on Oprah. But now when I meet someone from either side of adoption I have so much compassion for them and I get to understand how they feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-443874819597407070?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/443874819597407070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=443874819597407070' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/443874819597407070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/443874819597407070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-could-have-been.html' title='What could have been'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6402863874279395777</id><published>2008-05-28T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T06:28:45.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Second chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I have been thinking a lot lately about second chances. Remember when we were kids and if we messed up we'd just ask for a do over. I know everything in my life, that maybe I would like a do over on, God has used to help me grow and help me learn, and sometimes even teach me to fall. So while I am thankful for his grace, I like to reflect on my do over list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish as a young girl I would have known what great treasure friendship is. One true friend is more important than any clique could ever be. So for my do over I am going to teach my daughter what the word friendship means.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had never been timid about praying with my (ex) husband. So for my do over I am going to teach my son the power of a praying man.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had told some friends who are gone how much they meant to me. So for a do over I will tell my friends now I love you and you mean the world to me. My life is one of the richest because of the ones I call friend.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had not sinned so much toady. So for my do over I am going to wake up in Gods grace, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; his mercy, and try it all over again. &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/5007480593618286578-6402863874279395777?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6402863874279395777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6402863874279395777' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6402863874279395777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6402863874279395777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/05/second-chance.html' title='Second chance'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-2738200122805095877</id><published>2008-05-25T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T19:14:33.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh no she didn't</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I think as women sometimes our own insecurities destroy our filter. We say way to often the first thing our insecurities bring to our minds. Most the time it's the thing we think will help us feel better about ourselves, all the while making others feel bad about themselves. My friend Jeanne told me a great quote she heard from a wise man (Bob Eubanks). He said, don't blow someone else's candle out in order to make yours shine brighter. I thought about that for a minute, and then said even better blow your own candle out so they can shine alone. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As women we can be so jealous and just insensitive. I knew a woman once that really could barely put food on her table, but she had a talent for stretching a dollar. Most of her shopping was done at the sav-a -lot grocery store. In one conversation with a few girls they asked her in almost admiration, how do you do it. So feeling proud of her talent she told them. One responded "oh I could never shop there, that store is dirty". The woman's pride quickly turned to shame. I wonder if that is what the other woman wanted. I would take a guess into her life I bet she likes the best of the best, kind of that "keeping up with the Jones's' thing. I bet her husband fusses about her spending. I think the woman's thriftiness made her jealous, and with jealously rises up a need to boost our own self worth. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We need to be really careful of the words we let out of our mouths, we need to be really careful that the habit of insensitivity does not become our character. Often the first thought that comes to mind is that flesh response that we should lock away. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take advise from the grandparents "if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing". And from the bible &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EPH 4: 29 Let no foul or polluting language, nor evil word nor unwholesome or worthless talk [ever] come out of your mouth, but only such [speech] as is good and beneficial to the spiritual progress of others, as is fitting to the need and the occasion, that it may be a blessing and give grace (God's favor) to those who hear it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And let it start with me!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-2738200122805095877?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/2738200122805095877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=2738200122805095877' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2738200122805095877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/2738200122805095877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/05/oh-no-she-didnt.html' title='Oh no she didn&apos;t'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-8624812960832450409</id><published>2008-05-19T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T09:37:48.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mission field</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I used to think I wanted to be a missionary.  Go to some unknown country and feed little kids and tell people all about Jesus.  But why would I ever think I could do it there, and not do it here.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I got myself a big dose of humble pie today.  There was a girl I went to school with that I ran into a few times, because our kids go to the same school.  She was always a bit off, I knew from what it looked liked that she had a really bad addiction to something.  So most of the time I avoided her.  How bad of a missionary would I be, or a lot of us be.  We want to take care of the normal and the clean, and the ones most like us.  We/I want to stay in my box or my safe zone.  We want the world to change, but we can not just watch it change we have to be a part of why it changed.  Our churches can not be a place for only the saved and the clean, our compassion has to extend beyond our circle.  If it is work and effort and a hassle for us to be there for people then Good, we're probably doing it right.  I am reminded today of the place in the bible where we are told to pick up our cross and follow Jesus, and what that means to me.  The walk Jesus took carrying his cross, it was so hard he could not do it alone.  He was so tired from that walk he could barely stand at all.   Pick up your cross is not a metaphor of comfort and easiness.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The girl I mentioned passed away.  She was 29 and had a five year old son. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear God help us all to see those around us, really see them.  Help us to allow God to love them through us, help us be willing.  I pray when fear tries to win out it'll be silenced by love and compassion.  Help me to do better on this mission field.&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/5007480593618286578-8624812960832450409?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/8624812960832450409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=8624812960832450409' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8624812960832450409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/8624812960832450409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/05/mission-field.html' title='mission field'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-6158120947034215398</id><published>2008-05-15T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T15:32:05.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmmmm......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#663366;"&gt;Okay so after giving Jeanne a hard time about needing a new post, I seem to have blogger block.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I go to write I can't seem to think of good positive stuff to write about. So I will just go by my blog title and write whatever comes to mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent some time today thinking about days past. And things I have come out of, good times and bad. Most of my reflection time was in the car on the way to pick up my kids. When the kids got in the car, as always I asked how there day was. Elissa then began to explain how she is no longer friends with a certain girl because that girl called her other friend a geek. That story went right along with my reflection. As kids and teenagers we seem to be very nonchalant in our meanness. We pick our best friends and make others know they are not one of them. We do our clubs and clique... We judge others and gossip up the phone lines. Only as adults do we seem to see the damage that does to others, or do we. Why is it in a church some are made to feel needed and others made to feel unseen. I understand we have our core friends, even Jesus had 12 core buddies. But I think we should drop the cliques at church and make sure everyone feels seen. I know what it feels like to feel unseen in a room full of people. I stopped going to church a long time ago, and not once did anyone call me to see why..... But believe me when I say I am okay with that in fact I am glad, because God put something new in me from that hurt. He put a realness in me, that has changed the very core of who I am. And let me clarify, I don't go to a church right now, But I do have fellowship and teaching, and I have daily moments that strengthen my relationship with Jesus. I have just taken the four walls of a building out of the picture. I hope one of these days God will place me at a church he wants me, until then though, my church is mobile. I wish we could just get a glimpse into the heart of the least of these at any given church.&lt;br /&gt;And so what did I tell Elissa about her and the outed friend. I told her the only way to change someone is to be the change you want to see. It's good to stand up for your friend, and it's also important to be a good example to the name caller...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-6158120947034215398?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/6158120947034215398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=6158120947034215398' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6158120947034215398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/6158120947034215398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/05/okay-so-after-giving-jeanne-hard-time.html' title='hmmmmm......'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-3551551847176759614</id><published>2008-04-27T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T20:19:28.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>country club Jesus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;So today was the first Sunday that the restaurant I work at was open. I have worked in other places on Sundays so I was ready for "whatever". You hear all the time the church folks are the worst tippers. But my tiff is not with the tips.(but the tips did suck) What bothered me the most today was the well dressed church folks walking in a restaurant and treating people like second class citizens. Are you freaking kidding me. Do they not know who they just came from worshipping. Do they realize that not once did Jesus ever put on a suit, and do they know Jesus never had a membership in any country club. It's sad to hear what others see of Jesus when the church goes out to eat. I work with these people I love these people. It's funny by some standards I am not good enough, my job is not good enough. I wonder if Jesus before the cross would have been good enough.  I love all Gods people I just think we've got to be carful how we represent his good name. If you are going to leave a server a trac telling them they are on a road to hell, but YOU know the way out, then at least leave a good tip in the trac, better yet just leave the good tip and say a prayer and let God work. Maybe you are not the answer maybe you are just the blessing God can use. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Luke 33:39 is what I wanted to say to today. And Matthew 23:13 Heck yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&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/5007480593618286578-3551551847176759614?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/3551551847176759614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=3551551847176759614' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3551551847176759614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/3551551847176759614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/04/country-club-jesus.html' title='country club Jesus'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1164881571202565146</id><published>2008-01-10T19:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:45:11.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shattered</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Open up&lt;br /&gt;He tells me&lt;br /&gt;Take down the walls&lt;br /&gt;Let your heart love&lt;br /&gt;Well, which piece would&lt;br /&gt;You like to love you&lt;br /&gt;What magic spell&lt;br /&gt;Can you cast&lt;br /&gt;To protect my open soul&lt;br /&gt;And my wounded spirit&lt;br /&gt;You want all of me,&lt;br /&gt;Open and whole&lt;br /&gt;But I am shattered&lt;br /&gt;Lost in the rubble&lt;br /&gt;So take this piece&lt;br /&gt;Its all you can have&lt;br /&gt;If you love it&lt;br /&gt;And keep it safe&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Ill give you more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-1164881571202565146?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1164881571202565146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1164881571202565146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1164881571202565146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1164881571202565146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/01/forever-trust-in-forever-i-think-not-i_10.html' title='shattered'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007480593618286578.post-1858742685607810611</id><published>2008-01-10T19:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:27:10.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;forever &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust in forever&lt;br /&gt;I think not&lt;br /&gt;I learned my lesson&lt;br /&gt;About empty words&lt;br /&gt;Forever can come&lt;br /&gt;And leave you lost&lt;br /&gt;Forever can come&lt;br /&gt;And leave you broken&lt;br /&gt;Dont promise me forever&lt;br /&gt;Just love me today&lt;br /&gt;Leave tomorrow to chance&lt;br /&gt;And forever to fools&lt;br /&gt;I understand hope&lt;br /&gt;Not a promise of time&lt;br /&gt;I know when love is real&lt;br /&gt;But do not know if it will last&lt;br /&gt;Ill not promise you forever&lt;br /&gt;But I will love you today&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5007480593618286578-1858742685607810611?l=whateverloribehr.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/feeds/1858742685607810611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5007480593618286578&amp;postID=1858742685607810611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1858742685607810611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5007480593618286578/posts/default/1858742685607810611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whateverloribehr.blogspot.com/2008/01/forever.html' title='forever'/><author><name>lori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11392258788596536957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_N4w6P4-mVyw/SLc8IB4Mx_I/AAAAAAAAAH4/mls9UJEOWNU/S220/for+blog.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
