<?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-5919941423452976939</id><updated>2012-02-14T02:37:46.775-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Captivated</title><subtitle type='html'>"Beholding is becoming, so as You fill my gaze 
I become more like You and my heart is changed..."</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-288628670870709964</id><published>2008-08-15T00:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T00:20:15.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog</title><content type='html'>I started a new blog. Be Transformed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://breannlarkin.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://breannlarkin.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check it out&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-288628670870709964?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/288628670870709964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=288628670870709964' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/288628670870709964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/288628670870709964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/08/new-blog.html' title='New Blog'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-2030207284996929185</id><published>2008-05-01T16:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T16:48:26.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i am not alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Psalm 63:1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Isaiah 40:29&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Isaiah 40:31&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jeremiah 31:25&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Matthew 11:28&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I'm feeling very alone and weary today... Just one of those day I guess.  I found it a great comfort to open my Bible and find a plethora of verses about comfort for the weary.  Even after reading though I still couldn't help but feel like I was alone in the world... Like I was shut out and left on my own.  I decided to revisit an old favorite of mine: &lt;i&gt;I am not but I know I AM &lt;/i&gt; by Louie Giglio.  I searched the pages for my favorite passage and was immediately comforted by the overwhelming sufficiency of Abba Daddy:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;"When you're questioning, needing, searching, wondering, asking, and struggling, you will find His sufficiency at the end of every desperate prayer.  When you cry out all the thing you are not, you'll know His answer is, 'I AM.' &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;            For every cry, there is one answer:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need help.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need hope.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;Who could possibly be smart enough to figure this out?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;What works?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;What lasts?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;What's the latest thing?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;What's the hippest thing?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need a fresh start.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need a bigger story.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;My vision is bigger than my resources.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;Nothing's real anymore.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;Who can I trust?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I'm not sure who's on my team.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;Nobody's listening to me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I don't have a prayer.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;My marriage is sinking and I don't know where to turn.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I can't hold on.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;My kids deserve more.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I'm pouring into others, who's pouring into me?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;If [I] fail, who will get the job done?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I'm not sure why I'm here.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I've given all I can give and it's not enough.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I'm tired.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I quit!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I can't!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need a drink.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need a fix.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;I need a lover.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;Somebody just hold me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center; line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:0in; margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;And what does this great I AM say of Himself? He says to you and to me: 'I am the way, I am the truth, and I am the life.  I am the resurrection and the life.  I am Savior. I am Jesus-- the solution, the restorer, the builder, the answer, the Wise One, the Coming One, the Mighty One.  I am the Lord and there is no other.  I am God and there is none besides Me.  I am the First and the Last.  I am Alpha and Omega.  I am the Beginning and the End.  I am the Lord, that is My name, and I will not give My glory to another, or any of My praise to idols.  I AM THAT I AM, and that is My name-- My memorial name to every single generation.'"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8.5pt;font-family:&amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; I am not alone. &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-2030207284996929185?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/2030207284996929185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=2030207284996929185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2030207284996929185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2030207284996929185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-am-not-alone.html' title='i am not alone'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-1757110018809742096</id><published>2008-04-30T13:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T14:03:10.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A call to love</title><content type='html'>I read a quote today in my quiet reading time and it has infected my soul.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"We treat others as we perceive God is treating us." Max Lucado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How do I treat others?  And is that really how I think God treats me?  I found that I am not wholly pleased with the way I treat others.  I realize that I pass a lot more judgement than I am entitled to pass.  And I hold grudges.  And I am nitpicky about things that don't really matter.  And I gossip about the people I love.  And I get angry with the people I love.  What the heck.  I just want to love.  Love like a crazy person.  I want to love because that's the only thing I can do.  And that is how God treats me -- He loves me uncontrollably.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This quote totally convicted me.  I've been called to abandon judgement and love unconditionally -- especially those who are hardest for me to love.  You know the paradoxical commandment: Love your enemies.  It's not going to be easy, but I'm done treating others any less than how God treats me.  And you know, I will never be able to love as much as God loves because my heart just isn't big enough to contain that kind of love.  But I'm gonna try.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-1757110018809742096?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/1757110018809742096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=1757110018809742096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1757110018809742096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1757110018809742096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/04/call-to-love.html' title='A call to love'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-4546707552799646600</id><published>2008-04-29T16:59:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T11:58:59.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It was never all about me, but it was always all for me.</title><content type='html'>Over the past couple months I've been struggling with my dead spirit. I've been stuck in sin, stuck in a lie, stuck in a pit, stuck in the world. No matter my burning desires, no matter how badly I longed for Jesus, I have been transfixed in the midst of my sins. I didn't feel like I was &lt;em&gt;ready&lt;/em&gt; to run at Jesus the way I desired. I didn't feel worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to talk to PM about it... I tried to think about... Nothing gave me the answer I needed. And I sure as heck thought I couldn't go to Jesus about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then yesterday God threw the answer into action out of nowhere and I am utterly overwhelmed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber came to visit yesterday before the ASP meeting (which I am totally stoked about ASP WOOT WOOT!) and after talking to her for an hour, I was totally convicted! I went nuts! I couldn't stop thinking about Jesus. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. I just wanted Jesus. I was so frustrated that Amber is not inhibited by anything in her crazy thirst for Jesus -- she just keeps running as fast as she can toward Him. Her thirsty faith challenges and inspires me and so today after a good night sleep I decided that I was going to wake my spirit from the dead and bring it back to life. I'm done sitting around and watching those around me fall head over heels while I fantacize about running. Well I started by reading &lt;em&gt;When God Whispers Your Name&lt;/em&gt; by Max Lucado. Let me just say I have never read anything by him before, but I love him. I love his style. He devoted an entire chapter to brevity and in that chapter included a list of some short sayings of his own...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pursue forgiveness, not innocence."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always been caught up in being perfect. And believe me, lately I've been a lot more laid back and accepting of the fact that I'm not perfect and never will be. In fact, I don't really want to be. But the one thing I haven't been able to let go of is that sin is an imperfection that separates me from Jesus. I hate myself for living in sin. And that sin, that imperfection has held me back from running full-force to the cross (even though that's the one place I should be running with such a heavy load.) Lucado's quote threw me for a loop. What if I pursued the forgiveness that Jesus offers me rather than try to pursue utter innocence -- perfection? Wouldn't that free me from the hole that I am stuck in? Pursuing forgiveness is pursuing Jesus. That quote was the answer to all my problems, but I wasn't satisfied yet. So I went to the Bible next. Yesterday I started &lt;em&gt;Solo, &lt;/em&gt;a daily devotional by Eugene Peterson. And yesterday's passage was focused on Genesis 3: 1-10. Aka. the fall of man. The story of the serpent and eve and the apple. I decided to revisit the passage and it totally opened up in front of my face. It was like God was drawing it all out for me! Who would think that my faith could be revolutionized by the story that I learned in 1st grade. I would like to share what I learned. Please read the passage carefully:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Genesis 3&lt;br /&gt;1 The serpent was clever, more clever than any wild animal God had made. He spoke to the Woman: "Do I understand that God told you not to eat from any tree in the garden?"&lt;br /&gt;2-3 The Woman said to the serpent, "Not at all. We can eat from the trees in the garden. It's only about the tree in the middle of the garden that God said, 'Don't eat from it; don't even touch it or you'll die.'"&lt;br /&gt;4-5 The serpent told the Woman, "You won't die. God knows that the moment you eat from that tree, you'll see what's really going on. You'll be just like God, knowing everything, ranging all the way from good to evil."&lt;br /&gt;6 When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she'd know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate.&lt;br /&gt;7 Immediately the two of them did "see what's really going on"—saw themselves naked! They sewed fig leaves together as makeshift clothes for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;8 When they heard the sound of God strolling in the garden in the evening breeze, the Man and his Wife hid in the trees of the garden, hid from God.&lt;br /&gt;9 God called to the Man: "Where are you?"&lt;br /&gt;10 He said, "I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok and now for the verse by verse breakdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In verses 2-3 we see Eve tell the snake exactly what God has said. "We can eat from the trees in the garden." Ok so God places Adam and Eve in this beautiful huge garden and offers them all that is there. He even has them name the animals! The only thing God asks of them is that they don't eat from the tree in the middle of the garden. That sounds pretty stinkin delicious to me. An all you can eat buffet in the garden of eden (literally translated, the heart of God) you would think would be more than enough. But no, Satan tricks Eve into thinkin that she's missing out on something wonderful by not eating from the tree in the middle of the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then in verses 4-5 the snake basically tells Eve that if she ate from the tree she would know everything, even Evil. Its like "Yeah man, if you smoked the stuff on this tree your eyes would totally be opened to all the crap around you! You could totally stop living in this wonderful garden and be overhwelmed by the shit that happens in the world! You should totally try it!" sounds appealing right? appealing enough that eve gives in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want to say "what an idiot!" right? And then you realize... oh. That's me. God has already given us more than we deserve. And he knew what was best for Eve when he told her not to eat from the tree in the middle of the garden. He knows what is best for us to when he set commandments for us to live by. And yet, we get so caught up in what the world (the snake) has to say about the things we should stay out of. God tells us sex is for marraige because he knows that is what is best for us, and yet we get caught up in what the world says -- "You don't need to wait till you're married. Sex is fun. If you're protected and you don't get pregnant where's the harm? Don't you want to be intimate? Don't you love me enough?" So we have sex and we find ourselves in emotional turmoil. We find ourselves broken-hearted. God tells us we shouldn't lie because he knows that is best for us, and yet we get caught up in what the world says -- "A little lie can never hurt." And so we lie and that lie leads to another and a week later we find ourselves stuck in lies that we can't even remember. God tells Adam and Eve not to eat the fruit because he knows that living in bliss is better than living with the awareness of evil, and yet they listened to what the snake had to say-- "You'll be just like God, knowing everything, ranging all the way from good to evil." They turned down God's protection for a little taste bud high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in verse 7, after they've eaten the fruit, they realize that they are naked. I'm not satisfied with leaving that at physical nudity. I have to believe that being ashamed of being naked is in some way shape or form being ashamed of who they are in their most vulnerable state. They immediately cover themselves. I totally see myself here. When I get down to who I am at my core... who I am without false masks covering my true heart, I see someone that I am not necessarily proud of. I see someone full of imperfections and sin. I see someone broken and desperate. I don't like to see that.. I cover that with layers just like Eve covers herself with fig leaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(we're getting there I promise)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In verse 8 Adam and Eve hear God pleasantly strolling through the garden and afraid, they hide from God. Instead of running to stroll alongside God, they are caught up in their own grossness and hide. THIS IS ME! I am so caught up in my own gross layers that I can't even walk alongside God anymore. Why can't I just let myself be naked? Why can't I allow Christ to heal the broken and imperfect heart that is my core?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the epiphany happens. In the devotional portion of &lt;em&gt;Solo&lt;/em&gt;, Peterson poses the idea that "Genesis 3 speaks of the rebellion of humankind. And the remainder of the Message details God's intricate and loving plan to redeem, restore, and reconcile creation back to himself after what happens in Genesis 3." HOLY CRAP! THE ENTIRE FREAKIN BIBLE IS ABOUT GOD'S PLAN TO REUNITE HIMSELF WITH ME! There is one measly chapter that focuses on my sin. THAT'S IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the eternal now, I am Eve eating the fruit. And at the same time Jesus is dying on the cross, and singing my name on the Throne. and I am eternally praising Him. I am wondering in the desert and standing at the foot of the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pursue forgiveness, not innocence. My life is not about the sin I am "stuck" in, but about the amazing grace that Christ has given. The story is not about innocence, but redemtion. It is not about perfection, but brokenness. I'm forgiven. IT IS FINISHED.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why it took me till now to understand that God's grace is sufficient. I don't know why it took me till now to understand that in Christ I am made new again and that all I need to do is pursue Christ. I don't mean to over simplify the concept but... You sin. So what. Forgive yourself and move on. Christ already has. I am not stuck anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My chains are gone.&lt;br /&gt;Look out. I running and I'm not letting anything get in my way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-4546707552799646600?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/4546707552799646600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=4546707552799646600' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/4546707552799646600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/4546707552799646600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-was-never-all-about-me-but-it-was.html' title='It was never all about me, but it was always all for me.'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-1528394276299671580</id><published>2008-04-06T23:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T23:30:09.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mediocre Faith</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;“Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Albert Einstein&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            This year I decided to do a study PM.  Three days a week, I leave the school at 11 o’clock and go to the church to study the Bible in a life applicable fashion for two hours before I return to school.  I have come to a much deeper place in my faith as a result of our time together.  I have much greater range of knowledge of God’s Word.  I have developed understanding of what it means to be a Christian and know exactly the life I want to pursue.  I want to have crazy faith that moves mountains and intimate love that longs for the face of Jesus.  I want to be covered in the dust of my Rabbi, and I want to bathe in his blood of salvation.  I want a faith that moves me to get out of the boat and walk on the water toward Jesus.  I want a faith that causes me to ignore the storm because I just can’t keep my eyes off of Jesus.  My great desires have always encountered violent opposition from my mediocre faith.  My greatest frustration in life.&lt;br /&gt;            Paul was an amazing man of God.  Beginning as a Roman citizen who persecuted Christians, Paul was transformed on the road to Damascus by an encounter with Jesus.  He took the great commission and ran with it—infected by the love of Jesus, Paul went and made disciples of the nations.  He loved like Jesus loved, bearing whips and scorns for Christ’s sake.  Paul was perhaps one of the most persecuted men in the history of the world.  Check it out: In his second letter to Corinth, Paul boasts about his sufferings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wording from The New International Version follows: “(I am out of my mind to talk like this.) I am more.  I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again.  Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one.  Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open see, I have been constantly on the move.  I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own country men, in danger from the Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers.  I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked.  Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches.  Who is weak, and I do not feel weak?  Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?” (2 Cor. 11: 23-29)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage drives me crazy!  My mind goes wild with all the suffering and pain that Paul went through for Christ.  But even more amazing to me is Paul’s lifestyle!  Paul, despite all of the suffering he went through, never gave up on pursuing Christ.  He never threw in the towel because he was in pain, or because he was afraid, or because he doubted.  No.  He pushed through it all.  AND!  He lived daily with a grace and peace that I desperately long to understand.  I truly believe that Paul’s body walked the either, but his heart, his attention, his mind, his spirit was in Heaven with Jesus.  When he bore the “forty lashes minus one,” I have to believe that he was staring straight into the peaceful and comforting eyes of Jesus.  I have to believe that while Paul sat in jail, writing letters to the churches, that as he penned the introductions, all wishing “grace and peace” to the churches that he was breathing in the air of Life. &lt;br /&gt;            I desperately long for this kind of lifestyle.  I want to be so consumed by Jesus Christ that I am of no earthly good.  I want to be so focused on the Goal that I don’t get caught up in the storms the Devil throws to keep me away.  I want to throw away my mediocre faith for the faith of Paul.  I’m tired of suppressing my intense desire for Jesus in order to get by comfortably in this world.  I want to be a fool.  I want to step out of my comfort zone.  I want to be utterly out of my mind like Paul.  I want to do something radical.  Start a revolution.  This crazy desire has been building up for so long and I can’t fight it down any more.  I’m letting lose!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-1528394276299671580?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/1528394276299671580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=1528394276299671580' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1528394276299671580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1528394276299671580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/04/mediocre-faith.html' title='Mediocre Faith'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-8586793875070703484</id><published>2008-01-28T21:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T22:20:29.648-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want Jesus. Period.</title><content type='html'>Today PM and I studied 1 Samuel Chapter 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know Jesus.  I don't want to minister before Him.  Or know the facts about Him.  Or go through the motions for Him.  I don't just want to proclaim Him as my Lord and Savior.  No.  I want to live for him.  I want every action to be a perfect reflection of Him.  I want to be so in tune with Jesus that I can feel his breathing.  That my heart beat becomes one with His.  I want to be filled with His infectious love.  I want to know my Savior.  I want to know his likes and dislikes.  I want Him to be the best friend I tell everything.  I want Him to be my primary focus.  I want Jesus to be my everything.  He is more than enough.  I want to know him that way.  I want to know Him wholly.  I want to know Him inside and out.  I want to know Him the same way He knows me.  I want to be crucified with Christ.   I want Jesus.  Period. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the fact of the matter is this:  I'll never wholly know Him.  I can't.  I will spend the rest of eternity getting to know Him.  And to me, this is a beautiful thing.  This is a lifetime of everyday understanding a little more of my Savior.  This is a lifetime of everyday feeling his touch a little stronger, it becoming a little more familiar.  This is a lifetime of everyday taking one more breathe in sync with Him.  This is a lifetime of everyday having one more thought in tune with my Maker.  This is a lifetime of dying a little more to myself and taking up a little more of His life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want Jesus.  Period.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-8586793875070703484?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/8586793875070703484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=8586793875070703484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/8586793875070703484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/8586793875070703484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-want-jesus-period.html' title='I want Jesus. Period.'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-2522189387166223778</id><published>2008-01-15T00:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T00:32:41.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Take This Life</title><content type='html'>As I'm standing here, staring into the mirror&lt;br /&gt;See the figure of a man trying to take a stand&lt;br /&gt;And live for something more&lt;br /&gt;Integrity is what I need and honor to my soul I feed&lt;br /&gt;To give it up, pack it in, getting rid of all my sin that's weighing me down&lt;br /&gt;Won't You come and fill&lt;br /&gt;I want You to come and make me more real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take this life, won't You change this life&lt;br /&gt;Come and make me whole&lt;br /&gt;Won't You take this life, won't You change this life&lt;br /&gt;Come and make me whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my pursuit of what is real&lt;br /&gt;My heart is longing with a need to feel my soul come alive&lt;br /&gt;I trudge and I step through the height and the death&lt;br /&gt;Of a long narrow as I'm growing old&lt;br /&gt;And soon I will be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having one of those sleepless nights.  And i was listening to some Shawn McDonald when this song came on.  I've heard it at least 50 times, and tonight for some reason it is just blowing my mind.  I feel as though these are the longings of my soul.  I'm crying out to be changed.  I just want to be used, to be cleansed, to be real, to be filled, to be changed, to be tranformed, to be loved, to feel, to grow, to go home.  This place is no my home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just take this life.  All of it.  The drama, the stress, the tears, the joys, the laziness, the apathy, the unawareness, the pain, the beauty, the lies, the hate, the passion.  Take this life.  Change me, morph me, use me.  I'm crying out to be touched.  Touch in me a heart of passion, a heart of worship.  Change this life, I'm laying it here.  I've strayed.  I'm a prodigal daughter.  I'm a child of Eden.  But you have never left me.  For You are with me always until the end of the age.  And the good work that you have started in me you are faithful to carry out to completion.  You are faithful.  I aspire to have Your great faith, and with every moment of worship, with every Word that I read I fall in love.  In love with the King, in the love with the Friend, in love with the Servant.  In love with Abba Daddy.  Come and make me whole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-2522189387166223778?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/2522189387166223778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=2522189387166223778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2522189387166223778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2522189387166223778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2008/01/take-this-life.html' title='Take This Life'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-420513462851245135</id><published>2007-12-30T01:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T21:08:27.154-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake Up World.</title><content type='html'>I have always been that girl with the big ideas. Ideas to help the neighbors, to start a leaf raking marathon, to organize a five mile run to benefit the Red Cross, to run a blanket drive for the homeless, to get Christmas gifts to the needy. I’ve always wanted to change the world. However, I’ve never taken the biggest step, the initial action. I sit in pure bliss and excitement with the idea and then let it fade into oblivion. “Nice thought, “ has always been the result of my great ideas. Ingred Michaelson put it best when she sung, “I want to change the world/ Instead I sleep.” I am done sleeping. The time has come for change, for revolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past summer, a fiery passion for mission work was lit in my soul. I went on a weeklong trip into the Appalachian Mountains to work on the dilapidated house of an impoverished family of four. The beaming smiles of the children upon seeing a bathtub and door for their bathroom combined with the mom’s gleaming tears over the brand new porch deck were enough to change me forever. As I piled into the van at the end of the week, I knew I would never be able to sit with an idea ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the couple months following that mission trip, the fire in my soul has becoming an inferno of desire to make a difference in this dark place that we call home. I can no longer enjoy the luxuries of life while there are people in my own country who do not have running water in their homes. I can no longer sit by while there are children starving, helpless Africans dying from AIDS, and innocent people being persecuted and murdered for their rightful beliefs. I can no longer sleep while corrupt governments oppress people who deserve freedom. I can no longer allow those who are able to live in ignorance of the injustice around them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a moment of brilliant inspiration this past November, I realized what I want to do with my life. I love writing and photography more than anything. I want to combine my passions with my desire to start a revolution. I believe that God has equipped me with the skills and drive I need to go out into the world as a revolutionary journalist and capture the brokenness in this world for all to see and know. Ideas into action; Action into service. This is the life I will live. I will live a life of action. An idea is burning in my spirit, and a revolution is about to pour from my fingertips. I will write to inform. I will photograph to motivate. I will live to inspire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-420513462851245135?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/420513462851245135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=420513462851245135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/420513462851245135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/420513462851245135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2007/12/wake-up-world_30.html' title='Wake Up World.'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-5270013063121461482</id><published>2007-10-18T00:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T18:05:30.469-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Life Shamelessly</title><content type='html'>I’m that girl—the one who most people think is absolutely flawless. The one who seems to have the picture perfect life with the picture perfect smile, the picture perfect grades, and the picture perfect family. The one who the teachers love to love and the slackers love to hate. I’m that girl—the one who seems to have everything together, to have success waiting at her doorstep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m that girl—the one who most people believe to be innocent. The one who goes to church every Sunday and sings in the choir every Wednesday. The one who is bound by and adheres to strict religious laws. I’m that girl—the one who people deny could do anything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m that girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; that girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not flawless. I am completely and utterly flawed—I never have been perfect, nor will I ever be. I am imperfect just like every human who has come before me—every last one, save Christ. I choose to take off the mask of perfection so people can see me for all that I truly am. If people would peer deeper into what seems to be my picture perfect life, they would find mistakes and heartache. I want people to know me. All my struggles, failures, and triumphs. I am not that girl who wakes up every morning and puts on her picture perfect face with her picture perfect smile. I wake up every morning and approach the world as I am—genuine and candid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not effortlessly successful. I work harder than anyone I know. I do not strive for success as determined by the world or society. I set my own standards—I am my toughest critic. I choose to challenge myself and am willing to fail before I succeed. Achieving success rests solely in the process that is learning. I do not strive for the reward at the end, or the applause along the way. Every success requires a journey and every journey has a lesson. I live for the lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not all-together settled. I do not think I ever will be. My life is full of questions, full of seeking, full of trials, full of errors. I am not afraid to be broken. I choose to forever transform, grow and develop. After all, life on Earth is the temporary process of becoming more and more like the Truth. I will spend my life forever seeking the one and only Truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not innocent. I am a sinner. But blessed am I, a prodigal daughter, to return to the embrace of my King—I once was lost but now am found. I am forgiven because of the Cross at Calvary. And because of this salvation, I can live with the innocence of a child. I choose to let go of what this world has to offer to chase with awe and wonder the call of my Abba Daddy. Like a child, I am intuitive, spontaneous and carefree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not religious. I am the polar opposite of religion. I am passionately crazy and hopelessly unstructured in my relationship with Christ. I am a Jesus freak—a bold believer. I dance when I worship and I laugh when I pray. I am unreserved in my expressions of faith. I am head-over-heels in love with Jesus and I am not afraid to let people know. I will shout it from the highest mountain and let it echo through the deepest valley. I allow my impurities to intensify the light of Christ that shines through the darkness. I am renewed and transformed. I live a life of love in Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I choose to live and learn. I will not wait for life to find me. I choose to dive headfirst into life and live it to the fullest. I live through mistakes. I live to the answer. I live for the lesson. I live for the Truth. I live like a child. I live for Love. And in everything I do, I will live life as Jesus intended me to live it: shamelessly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-5270013063121461482?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/5270013063121461482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=5270013063121461482' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/5270013063121461482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/5270013063121461482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2007/10/live-life-shamelessly.html' title='Live Life Shamelessly'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-3251655484837659922</id><published>2007-09-08T22:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T22:45:46.154-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That's All I Really Want</title><content type='html'>You called me out.  You reached down and grabbed my hand while I was swatting around in the dark for You.  I thought I'd forever be swatting with only a sense of Your presence.  And now, holding Your holy hand, I'm beginning to see a glimpse of light.  My greatest desire is to know You Father.  Please let all of Your glorious light shine for me.  For me!  I've come.  Father God, I am ready to get out of the boat like Jesus told Peter to do.  I'm ready to get out of the boat and walk on the water toward You Jesus.  Help me not to falter and if I do, pick me up and allow me to share that precious moment of intimacy with You. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I really want, is to be intimate with my Savior, to be in love with my King, to share my life with one person, Jesus, my Best Friend.  I want to be aware of God's presence in my life and in tune with the Holy Spirit.  I want to know God's Word and to soak everything out of it.  I want to live it out and become a walking example of Christ's love.  I want to be more like You Jesus.  I want to know You, know You like You already know me.  I want to be completely transformed, renewed by Your grace.  I want to understand Your grace so it is not longer just something that is spoken of, but something beautiful that I daily bathe in.  Wash me in Your grace and overhwhelm me in Your love.  Pour into me not only knowledge and wisdom, but more so that anything Jesus, Yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, I long to only breathe you in.  I'm finished trying to impress the world.  Fill me with You and shine out of me for the world to see!  I want to be Your servant! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my most desperate longing to love You, know You, feel You, experience You, see You, hear You, touch You, in a way that is so real, so explosive, so transforming, so renovative, so renewing, so mindblowing, so out of this world, so unbelievable, so awesome, so powerful, so holy, so inexpressible, so indescribable, so breathtaking that I am never the same, that I can't stop thinking about You day and night, that I can't help but share You, Your love, with everyone I pass, that I can't help but be moved to tears when I even think about an encounter with You, that I can walk through any trial, any tribulation, and have You in my focus, that I may see Your light in any valley and shout Your praise from every mountain top, that I may know You are God, the Alpha and Omega, the Prince of Peace, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, my Savior, my Rock, my Shield, my Comforter, the Creator of the universe, my Abba Daddy, the great I AM. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I desperately long to dive into Your word.  I want to print the Scriptures on my heart.  The more I know Your word Father, the more I know You.  And the more I know Your word, the more I have to share, the more I have to combat temptation with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't just want to memorize your word, I want to live it.  I want to eat it, drink it, breathe it.  I am so hungry for what you have to say, eager to digest and live by it.  I am at a crucial point in my life Father and I don't want to make any decisions without You.  Help me to see Your purpose for my life.  Reveal to me where I should go, what I should do.  Father God, You have a plan and I simply long to follow it.  Give me some holy direction!  Help me to find You this year, help me to daily know more of You and to every moment, with every breathe, fall deeper in love with You, my Jesus.  I want to spend every moment with You Jesus.  You should see the view when it's only You.  And Jesus, help me to find myself &lt;em&gt;in You&lt;/em&gt;.  I don't long to find myself, but rather You.  For I long to be one with You Jesus.  Come and fill me.  Make me like You, help me to reach out and share the good news with everyone -- to those ordinary shepherds who just like me are waiting for the invitation to come see You in the manger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray this all in the &lt;em&gt;awesome &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;holy&lt;/em&gt; name of Jesus, amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-3251655484837659922?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/3251655484837659922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=3251655484837659922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/3251655484837659922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/3251655484837659922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2007/09/thats-all-i-really-want.html' title='That&apos;s All I Really Want'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-7387293402998473634</id><published>2007-07-04T11:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T11:27:10.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I surrender all</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;This year has been quite the year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The fact it is the third of July and this is the first time I’ve sat down to write and reflect sums it up quite nicely.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The simple, essential parts of my life have been pushed aside and forgotten because of the more “pressing” parts.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You’d think a car accident at the start of the year would slow things down for me right away, make me step back, realize what is important and slow down and prioritize, appreciate, and live.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wish that had happened.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Instead, I had the busiest, most stressful, and utterly &lt;i style=""&gt;purposeless&lt;/i&gt; year of my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Sitting here right now, I would like to write that I consider everything in my life in terms of God, that He is the King, ruler, and controller of &lt;i style=""&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt; that goes on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And assuming that truth about myself, I would like to say that this past year was all about me being earnestly concerned with how far away from God I was wondering.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;These two things that I would “like” to say are only half truths.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sure this past year I spent some time concerned with the distance I felt, but it was not earnest concern.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Had it been earnest, I would have done something about it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have sought God out.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have immersed myself in His Word.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have plugged myself into the church, lived there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have picked up books, Noomas, whatever, and learned what other’s had encountered in God’s presence.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have given God hours upon hours of my time in prayer, just enjoying his presence.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have given Him my life for real, in its entirety, would have totally surrendered all control to Him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And as a result he would have become the King and ruler over all of my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Happy story, sincere faith.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Right?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Notice the conditional tense – “would.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Yeah, none of that happened in my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s the false part.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;The half truth: This is EXACTLY what I want, EXACTLY what I need, and EXACTLY where I should be – in his loving stronghold.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;So.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Where does that put me right now?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Looking back on a year of &lt;i style=""&gt;purposeless&lt;/i&gt; stress, &lt;i style=""&gt;uncontrolled&lt;/i&gt; business, and “spiritual”&lt;i style=""&gt; laziness&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I hate the person I have become.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I hate the way my life is right now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Right now, I am fed up with who I am and am ready and desperate to become &lt;i style=""&gt;purposefully&lt;/i&gt; all about Him!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Right now, I am desperately seeking the God of the universe, calling Him to come and rescue me from this dull life I lead.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Abba Father!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I am sick, disgusted, and tired of who I am.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am so ready, so desperately in need of you in &lt;i style=""&gt;every&lt;/i&gt; aspect of my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to be so full of you!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to feel free and invincible in You, full of your living breath that you breathe into my pathetic human lungs every single minute of every hour of every day!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Come fill me with your spirit of life and love!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Cleanse me of all the earthly garbage that has built up in the dark corners of this house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Make it a holy sanctuary for you to dwell within!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For it is not I who lives, but Christ who lives in me!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Yes Father! Yes!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I give it all to you!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Every part of me!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Use me at your will and daily blow me away with your mercy and love!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Make me like you!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Help me not to conform to this world!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I surrender all Father!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My sins – lust, sexual intimacy, anger, lies, deceit, hate, gossip, jealousy, unholy desires, gluttony, busyness!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If there are any more, I give them to you!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Make me aware and please Father, forgive me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to stop falling into this pit of dirt and remain holy as you are holy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will go the distance in my personal life to avoid temptation and sin! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Father!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I surrender my body.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am done being so concerned with appearance and weight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Father God, it is all vanity!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will work to keep this body healthy and in shape so that it may perform for you and only you!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Father God, I surrender this life, the thing that I hold onto most tightly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Take it and do with as you please!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have no say!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I lay down control.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will only follow and obey.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m tired of screwing up all the time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Perfect my life in your will!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Father God!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I surrender my schedule to you!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;PLEASE!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;HELP ME TO SLOW DOWN!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m so disgusted with business!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s yours- my time!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do with it as you please!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I SURRENDER ALL!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Take this life and make it your own.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You are so holy, so BIG!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Ruler and Creator of ALL the universe which is ever expanding!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You are the Ruler of the heavens and at the same time, the King and controller of my life!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As particular of detail you pay to placing each galaxy in its place in the universe, you pay the same detail to planning my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The same way you know each star’s name, you know the number of hairs on my head…the number of the cells that make up my body.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At the same time that you hold the universe in the palm of your hand, you embrace me…my Abba…my Daddy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And I just realized I really love you, more than &lt;i style=""&gt;anything&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Lastly Father, I ask that my life would be a constant conversation with you, one never-ending act of worship.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I give this life to you as an offering of thanks for your son, your love, mercy, grace, beauty, power, and just TOTAL awesomeness!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Thank you, Abba.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is in Jesus Christ’s holy name I pray…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-7387293402998473634?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/7387293402998473634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=7387293402998473634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7387293402998473634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7387293402998473634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-surrender-all.html' title='I surrender all'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-2118652938876275185</id><published>2007-02-05T22:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T14:51:52.307-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Garden of Eden</title><content type='html'>We're taught in church that sin separates us from God and that with sin, we cannot be with God. Sin turns us away from God for He can not look upon our sin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were little, we were taught in Sunday school that Adam and Eve lived in the Garden of Eden. The Garden of Eden was a beautiful and perfect place and in that garden, Adam and Eve had everything they could ever need. They were perfect humans and they lived in perfect harmony with God, daily encountering Him one on one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, they sinned. They ate the forbidden fruit. Ashamed of what they had done, they hid from God. But try as they might, they could not hide. God sent them out of the garden and into a world of toil and trouble and pain and hurt - a world that was the equivalent of their sin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, sin turns us away from God and sent Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden. A strong connection is being made between us and Adam and Eve. In a sense, we are Adam and Eve. They sinned, we sin. God turned Adam and Eve away, we turn away from God. So in a sense, until we sin, we are living in the Garden of Eden as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I getting at? "I never lived in a pretty garden. You're stupid. Shut up." Yes, I can hear you. I have another piece to add. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the original Hebrew translation of the Bible, it was not the "Garden of Eden" that Adam and Eve lived in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was "the heart of God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pause. Think about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replace the "Garden of Eden" with "the heart of God" in the story of Adam and Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam and Eve lived in the heart of God. The heart of God was a beautiful and perfect place and in God's heart, Adam and Eve had everything they could ever need. They were perfect humans and they lived in perfect harmony with God, daily encountering Him one on one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, they sinned. They ate the forbidden fruit. Ashamed of what they had done, they hid from God. But try as they might, they could not hide. God sent them out of the His heart and into a world of toil and trouble and pain and hurt - a world that was the equivalent of their sin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We too lived in the heart of God before we caved into lies and lusted for the life of this earth. We exchanged our perfect home in the heart of God for the temporary pleasures of this place we call "home." Sounds like a sad story, huh? We think the grass is greener on the other side, but once we get there it's not so good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad for Adam and Eve, they were never allowed back into the Garden of Eden, the heart of God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for us, God sent his son, Jesus Christ to take away our sins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah, we know right? Wrong. What does that really mean? Don't let it go in one ear and out the other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus takes away our sins. Meaning we become perfect in God's eyes. Meaning we are welcomed back into the heart of God, back into the Garden of Eden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asking for forgiveness of our sins is SO MUCH BIGGER than a clean slate! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is SO MUCH BIGGER than bringing us closer to God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is bringing us into the very heart of God. It is bringing us to a beautiful and perfect place where we have everything we could ever need. It is allowing us to live in perfect harmony with God, encountering Him one on one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salvation, forgiveness, all that good stuff just took on a whole new meaning. A very intimate and personal meaning. Don't ignore it. The Garden awaits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-2118652938876275185?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/2118652938876275185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=2118652938876275185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2118652938876275185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2118652938876275185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2007/02/garden-of-eden.html' title='The Garden of Eden'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-4515756578504710119</id><published>2007-01-27T15:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T14:49:38.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Worry.  Be Happy.</title><content type='html'>I had a fight with a friend. &lt;br /&gt;I had a fight with my mom. &lt;br /&gt;I have too much homework. &lt;br /&gt;I'm stressed. &lt;br /&gt;I'm overwhelmed. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sick. &lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. &lt;br /&gt;I'm moody. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things happen that I don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;Things get complicated for no reason. &lt;br /&gt;Things hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Things suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life can suck at times. I find myself sitting and asking why? Why do things happen? Lately things have seemed to suck a lot more than they usually do and last night I was utterly overwhelmed. I wanted to sit and wallow in self pity. I wanted the world to know that I was having a sucky time. Instead of doing the one thing I should have, give over all my burdens to the only One who could truly take them off my shoulders, I decided to sit in a big puddle of crap and sulk and pout. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abba Daddy wouldn't have that nonsense. Oh no. I imagine He was thinking something along the lines of "Baby girl, these are not your burdens to carry. Just give them up." And seeing I was too absorbed in wallowing in self pity, He used my friends to snap me out of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good friend happens to IM me as I'm sitting and sulking. He actually was very unsympathetic to my pissy sulk mood and told me I was hardly happy anymore. I don't believe he meant to make me angry, but it pissed me off. I kinda exploded. I spilled everything that was on my heart. I sat at my computer crying out my problems onto the keyboard. With every key that I pounded I became more upset and more angry. I imagine from the outside it was a pathetic sight. After i had finished blubbering about my "crapstorm life" he decided to give me a slap of perspective. He told me to step outside and look in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So here's bree. She's dealing with a couple shaky friendships and she's overwhelmed because her schedule is filled and she has a lot to deal with over the next month." That's not so bad is it? It's not the end of the world. Time passes, you'll move past it and everything will be ok. Get up and dust yourself off. Keep going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being snapped into reality, I calmed down. I still held onto my self pity though. So what if I can handle it, I always get up and keep going. But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. His response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is only as bad as you make it out to be. You need to have a "mind like water"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're probably wondering just as I was what exactly that is:&lt;br /&gt;"In karate there is an image that’s used to define the position of perfect readiness: 'mind like water.' Imagine throwing a pebble into a still pond. How does the water respond? The answer is, totally appropriate to the force and mass of the input; then it returns to calm. It doesn’t overreact or underreact. Anything that causes you to overreact or underreact can control you, and often does. Most people give either more or less attention to things than they deserve, simply because they don’t operate with a 'mind like water.'" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. Things were in perspective. I was overreacting as usual. I knew I needed to stop wallowing in self pity and stop sulking and being so incredibly unhappy. But I felt unsatisfied. I wanted to know why. I'd deal with all the crap, but why. Maybe if I just slept on it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I decide to call another good friend. My first explosion about all the crap I was dealing with was apparently not enough. I had to verbally explode as well. So after about 10 minutes of my blubbering, my friend asked why I was so upset by all of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why. I don't understand the purpose of me going through all this. The purpose of feeling a call to do something and after I do it there is a negative pointless outcome. I just don't see why!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does my friend tell me. Exactly what I needed to hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance." [James 1:2-3]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this verse for the first time this past summer and it didn't really mean much. I've gone through so many trials this year that this verse has become a favorite of mine. It gives me hope, strength and the will to keep persevering. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend proceeded to tell me that if I really wanted to know why things were happening I needed to go to the One who took my burdens and ask Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." [James 1:5]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. So God was slowly pulling me back into His arms. I really needed to just go to Him. But my friend was not finished. He decided to remind me of something very wise he had once shared with me before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that happen in our life are similar to stars. When a star is born out in space, it is a long time before we see the light that star gives off. God does things in our life to set us up for His glory to be brought about later. We don't always, actually hardly ever, know exactly what God is doing things or for what purpose he does them. But God does not do things without purpose. And at some point or another the light from the stars that he forms in your life will shine, and you will be overjoyed when they do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is defintely forming some hardcore stars in my life this year, and even though I can't see the light yet, I am ok with that. Because I know at some point or another my life is gonna be full of bright light, God's glory. And that. That is what I long for-- my life to be full of God's glory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so lesson learned story over right? Wrong. God was not done yet. I wake up at an ungodly hour of 7:00 this morning to go write an article. I'm sitting there with yet another good friend and out of no where she whips out "My Utmost for His Highest" and reads todays devotional. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"'The cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches and the lust for other things will choke out the life of God in us. We are never free from the recurring waves of this invasion. If the frontline of attack is not about clothes and food, it may be about money or the lack of money; or friends or lack of friends; or the line may be drawn over difficult circumstances. It is one steady invasion, and these things will come in like a flood, unless we allow the Spirit of God to raise up the banner against it. 'I say to you, do not worry about your life . . .' Our Lord says to be careful only about one thing-our relationship to Him. But our common sense shouts loudly and says, 'That is absurd, I must consider how I am going to live, and I must consider what I am going to eat and drink.' Jesus says you must not. Beware of allowing yourself to think that He says this while not understanding your circumstances. Jesus Christ knows our circumstances better than we do, and He says we must not think about these things to the point where they become the primary concern of our life. Whenever there are competing concerns in your life, be sure you always put your relationship to God first.'Sufficient for the day is its own trouble' (Matthew 6:34). How much trouble has begun to threaten you today? What kind of mean little demons have been looking into your life and saying, 'What are your plans for next month— or next summer?' Jesus tells us not to worry about any of these things. Look again and think. Keep your mind on the "much more" of your heavenly Father (Matthew 6:30)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear you God. "Don't worry. Be Happy, in Me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-4515756578504710119?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/4515756578504710119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=4515756578504710119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/4515756578504710119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/4515756578504710119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2007/01/dont-worry-be-happy.html' title='Don&apos;t Worry.  Be Happy.'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-1515269261656478857</id><published>2006-12-10T23:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T19:46:57.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Through Hurt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;"She's either really naive or she's just good at playing everyone." You know, it hurts a lot to know that one of my close friends said that about me. And as hurt as I am, I don't know if I can completely deny the statement. I am naive -- naive enough to believe that my closest friends would never turn behind my back and judge me. "Good at playing everyone" no. "Good at playing &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;myself&lt;/span&gt;," is perhaps a better way to put it. I've been so concerned about what everyone else has wanted over the past couple months that I have completely lied to myself. I've given up what I want for what others want. I've tried to make making others happy my happiness and it's not working. I'm not happy. I'm really ashamed that I've been letting the desires and wants of others shape my feelings, thoughts, and actions. And in playing myself...in lying to myself, I've lied to others. I didn't lie intentionally, but now that I've come to the realization that I've been lying to myself, the truth that I have told those around me has become a lie. It took the questioning of a single friend who was the &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;only one&lt;/span&gt; friend enough to trust what I had to say and believe me with everything he had to make me realize that perhaps the only person I have been dishonest with is myself. Knowing that the people I trust discuss me and my issues behind my back hurts. And I feel betrayed. Everything has spiraled to a head and I sit here utterly broken and humiliated. I'm crying out for answers. &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;What have I done wrong to cause all of this? Why has it come to this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;How do I solve this? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Am I wrong?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And as I sit here absolutely &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;broken&lt;/span&gt;, there is one clear voice. &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;You haven't done a thing my baby girl. The weight of this world is crashing down on you, but it is not your weight to carry. I will take care of it. Do not worry, do not cry for I am pleased with you. Lean on me for you have done nothing wrong. Find Me in all of this because I am here. I love you and we're going to make it through this.&lt;/span&gt; And for the first time in a while, I've found my Daddy's embrace and am able to &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;rest&lt;/span&gt; there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;It takes brokenness to be healed&lt;/span&gt;. I was reading &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;God as He Longs for you to See Him &lt;/span&gt;by Chip Ingram today. And the words he spoke hit home:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It all came to a head. I sat alone...with an overwhelming sense that everything was depending on me. I was exhausted and discouraged, and I honestly wondered if I could continue...Through tears I read the words and felt the voice of God speaking directly to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN-LEFT: 40px"&gt;'The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.' Zephaniah 3:17&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;It suddenly seemed as though God were right there in the room with me. I sensed his power, and it convinced me that he could bring complete resolution to the things that were pressing down on me -- regardless of how I performed in that situation. He reached right past my inadequate offering and my insecure efforts and embraced me. I could picture him rejoicing and singing over me like a mother who can't believe she gets to be the mother. Somehow, as that awareness of God's delight filled me, the work I was doing or the obstacles I was facing didn't seem all that important after all. As God lifted the weight off my shoulders, I shamelessly smiled as I realized I wasn't supposed to try to carry it in the first place."&lt;/p&gt;I'm done lying to me. I will always put the wellbeing of others before myself, but I need to start doing what's right for me in the process. What's right for me comes from Him and the emotions and feelings that He gives me, not from my friends, not from my parents, not from this world or the jaded ideas of today's culture. I'm done ignoring those feelings and pushing them away. I'm going to follow my heart's every instinct. Because as long as I am in tune with my Father, I cannot go astray. If I'm walking with Him, &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;nothing else matters&lt;/span&gt;. And it doesn't matter who walks with me, against me or just doesn't walk at all. I'm going to keep walking. That is the path I am choosing for myself, the path that will make me happy. An intimate relationship with the Lord of lords and King of kings, my Abba Daddy. And as long as I'm making him rejoice over me with singing and He delights in me, I could care less about what everyone else thinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingram continues, "Rooted deeply in any driven achiever is the sense that who you are is determined by what you do. As these verses washed over my heart and soul, God's spirit used the words to recalibrate my view of him -- to separate my performance from my identity... In that instant I realized in a fresh way that God is on my side...that he really delights in me. For the first time in along time I was able to separate my performance from what God thought of me. I was free to do what I could and to simply trust him for the rest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done what I can... I can't fix this problem and it's not mine to fix. The lies I've told to those around me as a result of lying to myself are not going unspoken for. I apologize. And you can think what you want of me. But understand something first. We're all human. We all make mistakes. Nobody is perfect. And if everyone was given an identity based on their performance, we'd all have bad names. So before labeling me as a liar and untrustworthy, think about the person I really am. Think about the person you really are. Maybe you'll find we're not so different after all. Maybe you're crying out for answers too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-1515269261656478857?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/1515269261656478857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=1515269261656478857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1515269261656478857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1515269261656478857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2006/12/through-hurt.html' title='Through Hurt'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-1492981437082860238</id><published>2006-07-25T20:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T20:51:51.265-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stars are so Clear Tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;It is so easy to let things become clouded over in life.  It is so easy for things to become blurry and mixed together.  It is so easy to let the small things become big and to let the big things become small.  Why can't we just keep things straight? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's as though things just disappear out of our life: friendships, reasons, purpose.  Sometimes things happen out of no where: drama, issues, crisis, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;death&lt;/span&gt;. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;deep breath&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, July 20 a friend of mine from church committed suicide.  This particular friend is not someone whom I paid much attention to, nor was he someone whom I loved as much as I should have.  Upon hearing that he hung himself all I could think was "Why didn't I show him more love?"  I know the answer and it pains more than anything to admit this, but the reason is because he wasn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;easy&lt;/span&gt; to love.  He wasn't the most normal of people.  He was very shy and quiet and I guess the vibe I usually got from him was shady.  Granted he did some really strange things, I have come to realize how much I truly appreciated his unique self.  He wore a black T-shirt and jeans with black tennis shoes all the time.  Sometimes he wore this crazy top hat so that you couldn't really see his eyes.  He flipped off the walls a lot and was always trying to rewire something.  The tone in his voice was very nonchalant, a "Why do you care?" type tone.  But no matter how strange, he always smiled at me when I saw him.  At youth group, he always sat in the back.  It was comforting having him there considering now I look back expecting to see him there, and he's not.  He never will be.  Never again will I look back and smile to see him smiling back.  You don't ever realize how much you appreciate something until you lose it.  In this case, I didn't know I had appreciation for him until he was gone.  And now, I have appreciation beyond my wildest dreams for this friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koty has changed my life.  My life was clouded and I had everything mixed together.  My purpose as a Christian was clouded over.  My priorities were all in a jumble.  Koty's death was a huge wake-up call for me. On Sunday, I was crushed at seeing his mom, older brother (one of my really close friends), and his younger sister cry out their pain.  I sat as part of a group of 50 students and mourned.  It made me realize that there are so many more important things in life than my stupid everyday ordeals and petty drama that seem so big to me.  It reminded that there is a huge scene going on around me and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am not&lt;/span&gt; the center.  Koty's death not only woke me up, but reminded me of why I am a Christian -- because of God's unconditional, love, grace, and forgiveness.  God's gift to us was his one and only son, Jesus Christ, who died on the cross for you, me, your aunt and the homeless guy in Kentucky.  His blood covers all of our sins and all we have to do is accept his grace.  Koty accepted that grace and proclaimed his heart was with Jesus on multiple occasions.  Koty accepted his free ticket and the only ticket and is now resting in his Abba Daddy's big, strong arms.  And because of the question that pierced my heart so fiercely and convicted my soul to the point of tears, "Why didn't I show him more love?", I remember my purpose -- To love the unloved as Jesus did,  To reach out to those who need it most, not to those it is easiest and most pleasant for us to deal with.  We were created in God's likeness and are to follow Christ's example.  I choose to love unconditionally, forgive unconditionally, and extend grace to all for that is what Christ did for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I went outside and it was beautiful.  I looked up into the sky to find the clearest array of stars I have ever seen in my life.  An overwhelming peace came over me and I was at last comforted.  I know that Koty is up in heaven.  His heart was with Jesus when he was here and now it is with Jesus up there.  And tonight, as I gazed up at the stars I smiled one last time at Koty, and he smiled back.  Thank you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-1492981437082860238?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/1492981437082860238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=1492981437082860238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1492981437082860238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1492981437082860238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2006/07/stars-are-so-clear-tonight.html' title='The Stars are so Clear Tonight'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-99930260804947123</id><published>2006-01-29T20:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T20:55:23.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;So for the past couple weeks, I have just been really struggling in my faith.  My relationship with God is there, but I just feel frustrated because I don't feel like it's going anywhere.  I just feel...&lt;em&gt;stuck&lt;/em&gt;.  I feel like I have been hiking up this mountain with God, and all the sudden my boot gets caught and I can't free myself.  And God's standing there right beside me calling out what I should do in order to free myself and continue further in my walk with him, but I just can't make out what He's saying.   And it's killing me that I can't figure out what he wants!  And I mean, it's not all of me that's stuck!  It's just my boot!  To come out of my little analogy, I was walking strong with God, and then all the sudden, I stopped growing.  I can still hear his voice calling me to him, but I can't feel his hand leading me where to go.  The reason I think I am so frustrated is because I do believe and I do love God with all my heart.  All I want to do in life is his will and please him!  I've given so much of myself to God, yet I don't feel like He's using me!  And that is why I'm frustrated.  I know the reason I feel like I do is because one part of me is stuck.  I just really couldn't figure out what it was.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;God really spoke to me tonight at youth group.  &lt;em&gt;"Faith by itself, if not accompanied by action, is dead&lt;/em&gt;." [James 2:17 NIV]&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;My faith is dead! That is why I am stuck!  I have all this faith, a whole heart given to God and an ever pressing desire to please him and do his will, but I am not acting!  I need to go where God wants me to go.  Do what he wants me to do!  Stop what he wants me to stop!  Etc.! "&lt;em&gt;As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without action is dead&lt;/em&gt;." [James 2:26 NIV] Most people know me as this bubbly girl who's always laughing and having a good time.  If you took my spirit away, I would just be this lifeless lump.  That's what happened to my faith.  It grew a lot and then action ceased.  My faith became a lifeless lump!  It's still there, just lifeless, no longer growing and radiant.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So now I've got my faith problem figured out, but I have another problem.  I know what part of me is stuck-my boot.  I know that I need to get my boot free in order to continue my hike up that mountain with God.  The only problem is, I don't know how to get it free.  I mean I know I need to pull it out, but I don't know how and I can't hear what God is telling me to do!  Out of the analogy : I know that I need to start acting in my faith, but I can't feel God's hand leading me in how to do so.  I don't know what He's calling me to do!  I'm just really frustrated with this silence.  I talked to my youth pastor tonight about this and he said look in the midst of your frustration and you'll find that is where you will find God.  So my frustration is this &lt;em&gt;silence&lt;/em&gt;.  Maybe if I just listen...completely silence myself, just listen, God will speak to me.  Because God speaks in the silence.  He usually doesn't speak through big neon signs or earthquakes, but rather through silence.  I've been looking for a big waving hand gesture, a motion, an earthquake...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All is quiet, I'm listening....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-99930260804947123?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/99930260804947123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=99930260804947123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/99930260804947123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/99930260804947123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2006/01/so-for-past-couple-weeks-i-have-just.html' title=''/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-7364650385899883081</id><published>2006-01-16T20:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T20:56:08.977-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Catch a glimpse of my &lt;em&gt;incredible&lt;/em&gt; love for you!  I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have the power to grasp how &lt;strong&gt;wide&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;long&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;high&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;deep&lt;/strong&gt; is my completely &lt;em&gt;unconditional love&lt;/em&gt; for you- a &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; that surpasses all human knowledge."        [Ephesians 3:17-19]&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;God's love is so incredibly amazing.  As humans we will never be able to grasp how great his love for us really is.  I mean, He sent his one and only son to this earth to suffer and to die for all the crap that we do.  He wanted to be close to us and to show his love to us so bad that he sent his son to come and die because we screw up.  That is love, a love far greater than any love that a human could possibly comprehend or show.  Yes, humans can love.  I know this because I love.  There are people in my life that I love with all of my being, people that I know I cannot live without.  It is a kind of love that overwhelms me to the point of tears when I think about it.  But God's love completely blows my love out of the water.  That completely blows me away.  It just blows my mind that God could love that much, especially after all the things that we as humans do.  We can be so screwed up sometimes.  But God's love is unconditional!  Wow...what more can I say?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-7364650385899883081?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/7364650385899883081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=7364650385899883081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7364650385899883081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7364650385899883081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2006/01/catch-glimpse-of-my-incredible-love-for.html' title=''/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-9133207139540619188</id><published>2005-12-08T20:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T20:57:07.912-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;You are all this heart is longing for&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, you are all my soul is pleading for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;What can separate us&lt;br /&gt;From the love of Jesus Christ&lt;br /&gt;Nothing this world can even change&lt;br /&gt;The thought I once was lost&lt;br /&gt;But now been given grace&lt;br /&gt;It's a mystery that I will not chase&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't understand it&lt;br /&gt;How you love the way you do&lt;br /&gt;Even when I've fallen&lt;br /&gt;You always lift me up to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It just blows my mind that no matter what I do, how much I ignore, how often I stand Him up, God always loves.  People in this world will turn their back on you if you turn your back on them. God never will.  No matter how hard we've slapped Him in the face, He never turns away.  People in this world can love you one minute and the next hate you.  As humans, we cannot show unconditional love...undying love.  But God can.  And all of this just blows my mind away; that my father is so awesome and loving no matter what I do.  And He helps me through life.  Without Him, I would be &lt;em&gt;nothing&lt;/em&gt;.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Father God, I thank you for being awesome.  I thank you for the unconditional love that you surround me with everyday.  I thank you that no matter how many times I stand you up, you're always there waiting anyway.  I thank you that when everyone else on this earth fails me, you are waiting with arms spread wide open.   I thank you that when I get lost, you call out my name, leading me straight back to you.  And I thank you that when times get rough, I can come to you at any moment and fall into your arms.  I thank you that you daily take my burdens and carry them on your shoulders...for me.  Father I ask that you would take my life, mold it, shape it...make me like you.  I pray Lord,  that I would be a sanctuary for you to dwell in. That I would be pure and clean in your eyes.  And that as I pick up my cross and walk with you daily, I would be a light for the world of darkness around me to see.  I pray that you would shine through me to those around me, that they may be drawn to you and share in the joy that I have in my initmate relationship with you.  I love you father.  In Jesus Christ's name I pray, Amen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-9133207139540619188?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/9133207139540619188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=9133207139540619188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/9133207139540619188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/9133207139540619188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/12/you-are-all-this-heart-is-longing-for.html' title=''/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-7587785939049498934</id><published>2005-12-01T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T20:58:42.485-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh Lord I am strong in you..."My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." [2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV]&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;I'm human, I'll screw up.  And it completely blows me away that You forgive everytime. No matter how many times I screw up, no matter how many times I show you up, You never show me up.  I am so grateful for your amazing love and compassion.  And it is my prayer that I would become more like you, that I would be a shining light on this earth for you.  I love you.  Thank you.  Amen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-7587785939049498934?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/7587785939049498934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=7587785939049498934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7587785939049498934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7587785939049498934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/12/oh-lord-i-am-strong-in-you.html' title=''/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-539218945586051465</id><published>2005-11-01T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T20:59:53.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;Let your faith shine right through.&lt;br /&gt;You know it's the world versus Jesus and you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;How much more true could that be?  Everyday we go into this world, fighting against temptation and sin.  And at times it is going to seem absolutely hopeless.   It is going to seem like the whole world is against you and there is no one around with the same mission as you.  And people are going to laugh at you and persecute you for the message you are trying to spread.  And you are going to want to curl up into a ball and say "I can't do it God.  It's too hard."  But you know what, YOU AREN'T ALONE!  You have Jesus on your side.  And He has more power than all the people of the world put together.  So those couple kids in your class that are constantly putting you down...they're nothing compared to the strength that you have on Jesus' side!  and remember &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." [2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV]&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;In your weakness you are made strong in Him! &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;So LET YOUR FAITH SHINE RIGHT THROUGH! because it's the world versus JESUS AND YOU!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;God Bless&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-539218945586051465?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/539218945586051465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=539218945586051465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/539218945586051465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/539218945586051465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/11/let-your-faith-shine-right-through.html' title=''/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-1328168847287549947</id><published>2005-10-23T20:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T21:01:40.245-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"We are a moment, You are forever..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;We sang this in church today and it really made me think.  What is our life?  In perspective of the big picture, just a &lt;em&gt;moment&lt;/em&gt;.  While it's happening, life seems soooo long.  It seems like that can be all there is.  But in reality, our life is simply a glimpse.  We have all of eternity in heaven with God.  So why do we insist on getting caught in the moment?  Why do constantly screw up?  Why do we constantly push ourselves farther away from God for a brief pleasure?  Why do we let temptation get the best of us?  Because we are only human.  We can't not sin.  Every time we give into a little temptation and sin, we fall farther away from God.  So why do we do it?  Why do we risk our eternity in Heaven with God for a brief moment, for one thrill?  For me, it's because I forget exactly what these lyrics reminded me.  I forget that this life is simply a moment.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;And today in church as I was singing praise to God, I just had to stop and think.  I just had to stop and think about how small a moment is.  I had to think about how much and how little can occur in a moment.  I know one thing that is for sure.  I want to do as much as I can in my moment for God.  I want my moment to be for God.  Not for me.  I want God to be my forever.  God is the &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; thing that can be forever.  Everything else is of this world.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You are the love song I'll sing forever..."&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/5919941423452976939-1328168847287549947?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/1328168847287549947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=1328168847287549947' title='37 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1328168847287549947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/1328168847287549947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/10/we-are-moment-you-are-forever.html' title=''/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>37</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-7067113247862566238</id><published>2005-08-08T21:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T21:06:25.528-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfailing Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;Last night at youth group, everyone was all crammed together in the parlor of the church because it has some kick butt air conditioning and it was pretty dang hot.  So we're all here in the parlor and we were having praise and worship.  I was sitting on the floor and I was just praising God.  We sang this song, Unfailing Love.  It really hit me.  No matter how many times I screw up...God still loves me.  I screw up every day.  Everday I fail God.  Everday I hurt Him.  But everyday...He comes back with his arms wide open.  It's like this dream someone once told me about...I get up on a stage and I completely hurt this person...I put Him down...I go against everything He's ever taught me and I get off the stage and He is waiting there...with arms wide open and a tear in His eye.  I run over into His arms and say &lt;em&gt;I'm sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you&lt;/em&gt;.  And He says...&lt;em&gt;it's ok...i'm still here...I love you...I forgive you.&lt;/em&gt;  And it hurts me so that everyday I fall into the jaws of sin and everyday I cause pain to the One that loves me so much.  I don't want to hurt the people I love.  I am ever grateful for my Father's unfailing love and there is nothing more that I want to do than return that unfailing love.  But I'm only human and I do not have the power to give unfailing love.  Nor do any of the people around me.  The people I am closest to...they can hurt me...they can turn their backs on me....they can give me up...they can put me down...and it scares me that the people I put my trust in could change to something completely different just like that.  It scares me that I could be all alone in this world with no one... But that can never be true.  Because I have God who gives unfailing love.  He will &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; turn His back on me.  He will &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; give me up.  He will &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; ever go away.  He show &lt;em&gt;unfailing love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-7067113247862566238?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/7067113247862566238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=7067113247862566238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7067113247862566238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/7067113247862566238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/08/unfailing-love.html' title='Unfailing Love'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-2249111086981028805</id><published>2005-03-10T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T21:12:39.744-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Miracle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;You know how you never really think you'll ever experience a miracle?  When you think of miracle you think of a race of people living in the desert for 40 years and then finally getting delivered to the promise land...or Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead...or the leppers being cured of their disease.   I think that any situation that God places his hand on is a miracle.  That means, daily life is a miracle.  The fact that I woke up this morning, got out of bed and went to school is a miracle.  A small one...but a miracle.  I mean what are we?  We are living dust basically. After all, God formed man out of dust.  That in itself is a miracle.  But the fact that that dust got up and breathed air and walked the earth and reproduced and created the population of the world is an even bigger miracle. I think that the world is God's miracle and right now i am in absolute awe of how amazing my  Heavenly Father is....my father is the creator of the universe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-2249111086981028805?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/2249111086981028805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=2249111086981028805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2249111086981028805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2249111086981028805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/03/miracle.html' title='Miracle'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5919941423452976939.post-2978347296984703353</id><published>2005-02-27T21:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T21:14:03.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Charter Oak Youth Advance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you go on a weekend trip and you experience one of the most amazing experiences of your life, you just have to keep going on that trip.  I 6th grade I went to youth retreat for the first time...it was the most amazing experience of my life.  The Holy Spirit's precense was sooo amazing that it can't even be described in words.  Every year since then, I have gone back to youth retreat and every year I experience the same feeling.  It is overwhelming to the point that i find myself kneeling on the ground, tears streaming, my hands raised toward heaven all out praising God.  Sometimes, you get caught up in the motions and your not really praising God...its really easy to get used to going through the motions, but God doesn't want the motions, he wants sincere worship from us.  He wants more than a song, He searches much deeper within than what we do...He looks into our hearts.  He doesn't hear what comes out of our mouths....he hears the words of our heart.  The feeling you get when you truly worship God is the most wonderful feeling in the universe...what could be more wonderful that the warmth of the holy spirit all around you...taking the room over, completely blocking out all worries of the world...just you and God, the creator of everything, your father.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;God really spoke to me this weekend.  I think He really spoke to everyone that was at camp allegheny this weekend.  Yeah, we all had a blast, ate junk food, got very little sleep, froze in the snow and played some really bizarre games, but there was a lot more than the fun we had this weekend. It was about fellowshipping with fellow christians.  It was about advancing in our relationships with Jesus Christ.  Through the messages that God had for us this weekend, I know that I have definetely grown in my spiritual life.  We learned about the mask of comformity, the mask of control, the mask of self-reliance and the mask of religion. This weekend was all about taking off the masks...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The mask of conformity:  God made us to be who he wanted us to be.  He didn't create us to conform to the world.  What does it mean to conform?  To change who you are.  There are people in the world that make you conform to what you're not. you can be conformed or you can be who you want to be.. what God created you to be.  don't conform to the ways of the world, be a leader, not a follower.  Why do we conform....to fit in...to gain popularity, fame, success, keep a reputation, because we don't want to be lonely.  There are many reasons.  GOD'S DESIRE FOR US IS TO BE THE PEOPLE HE CREATED.  Not what the world wants to conform us into.  we need to get rid of the fear of being ourselves.  It takes one person to stand out for others to feel strong enough to be themselves.  One person is all it takes...so be that person.  Be yourself...don't conform to waht people want you to be&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The mask of control:  what is control?  having complete power of something.  When you wear the mask of control, you take charge of your own life.  What does surrender mean?  to give control to someone else.  To relinquish control to another.  We need to surrender to God. We need to give our lives to him.  He wants to be in control and he needs to be in control.  God knows what is best for you and with him in control, you are promised eternal life in heaven.  Maybe you haven't surrendered your life to Jesus yet, and that would be a good start to getting rid of the mask of control.  Maybe you have surrendered, but there are still areas of your life that you still have control over.  You need to surrender those...give it all to God.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The mask of self-righteousness:  People are not good by nature.  You cannot earn your way into heaven.  It does not matter how mant good deeds you do in your life.  Our righteuous acts (good deeds) are worthless to God.  True righteousness is to be in right standing with God.  Righteousness is from God through faith in Jesus Christ, not good deeds.  Jesus died on the cross for our sins; He became sin for us so that we could exchange our sin for His righteousness.  Good deeds don't make you right with God. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;The mask of religion:  God is displeased with us when we worship him by routine and the expectations of men.  We need to have a real relationship, not religion.  We can look all nice and religious on the outside, but God sees our hearts, not what we do in church.  God wants our hearts, not just us to go through the motions of everything.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;This weekend was amazing and I will never ever forget it.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5919941423452976939-2978347296984703353?l=breelarkin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/feeds/2978347296984703353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5919941423452976939&amp;postID=2978347296984703353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2978347296984703353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5919941423452976939/posts/default/2978347296984703353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://breelarkin.blogspot.com/2005/02/charter-oak-youth-advance.html' title='Charter Oak Youth Advance'/><author><name>i am not</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07304159158383275462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1302/561501755_0d5785f499.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
