<?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-14430479</id><updated>2012-01-17T14:10:40.115-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what is normal?</title><subtitle type='html'>For in him we live and move and exist - Acts 17:28a</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>40</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-620452732839488413</id><published>2012-01-17T14:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T14:10:40.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>on writing blog posts</title><content type='html'>It happens to me all of the time. I'll see a picture and think a seemingly profound thought. I'll want to write about it, and then life happens. When I finally get a moment to sit and process, the good idea for a blog post has drained away. I wonder if learning to paint might help, that way people can take whatever they want from the picture in my head. Instead, I sit in pity wondering. God has shown me so many beautiful things over the years, and I want to share. Why don't I? Anyone have a good answer for this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-620452732839488413?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/620452732839488413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=620452732839488413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/620452732839488413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/620452732839488413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-writing-blog-posts.html' title='on writing blog posts'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-5200036496354179579</id><published>2011-08-22T15:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T15:31:18.087-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Thought - Happy and Sad Together</title><content type='html'>Our world is saturated with happy and sad. Some days are happier, some more sad. We live inside a conundrum. The world is a mixed-up place. It exists with hope in a God whose love is a part of who He is. It also exists as a playing ground for Evil for now. And, even some things that are good, desires of our hearts that are never met, are out of our reach for now. Like I said, intensely mixed-up.

I watched this play out today. I watched as a Truman graduate was prayed out of the CCF ministry and on to 'real life' in between of all of the prayers for a new school year and new freshmen coming in. The tears were a beautiful and horrible reminder of how things here are so often really sad and exciting at the same time. Were we really meant to live this mixed up?

No - if we had only not messed up in the garden, right? The story is a messy one. Jesus had to die for us. But think about it...without that, without hope, it wouldn't be a mixed up world. It would just be sad, lonely, murderous and extremely ugly. Because of His sacrifice, we get to live mixed-up. We get to experience grief with the hope of a better tomorrow. We get to have peace inside, even when our world is crumbling. We get to do both. We get to be happy and sad together.
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-5200036496354179579?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/5200036496354179579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=5200036496354179579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5200036496354179579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5200036496354179579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2011/08/just-thought-happy-and-sad-together.html' title='Just a Thought - Happy and Sad Together'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-1116136543266143678</id><published>2011-08-03T16:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T17:07:33.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's time for school to start. Again?</title><content type='html'>I don't foresee this blog post turning into much, so don't get your hopes up. I just keep thinking about how I want to sit down and actually write something in this blog that's been sitting wordless for over a year. I have even started keeping a list entitled "blog topics." I guess that just means that I spend too many hours doing too many other things.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, anyway, here we go. Here are a few aimless words about summers and school years. This is the first summer in many years where I have not traveled overseas for some sort of missions project. I did travel to many states for visits, but it was not quite the same. I miss being in places where I don't understand the prominent language. I miss being in places where I am the minority. I don't like being the normal one, remember?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite moments of the summer actually took place in a Starbucks in Houston. I walked into the line for my Iced Passion Tea and overheard a conversation in what I believe was one of the Eastern European languages or possibly Russian. I felt like I was home. I've never been to Russia, and even though I have been to Bulgaria, that's the only Eastern European country I've stepped foot in. How is it that I felt at home by hearing a language other than my own? Weird, yet it still makes me smile and sigh. I miss it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll talk about my ideas of home in another blog post. For now, it's time to get ready for the school year. It's time for Truman State to begin bustling with students again. It's time to be overwhelmed with too much to do. I'm excited about new students coming and "old" ones returning. I'm excited to start a new school year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I told you this wouldn't be too long or too interesting. I'm rambling. I've written something, though, and that's a great jump start for me. Like the new year, I hope this is a new start to a blog-habit. I miss it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-1116136543266143678?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/1116136543266143678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=1116136543266143678' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1116136543266143678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1116136543266143678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-time-for-school-to-start-again.html' title='It&apos;s time for school to start. Again?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-3499904840867626189</id><published>2010-04-25T18:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T18:56:21.608-04:00</updated><title type='text'>heaven</title><content type='html'>The preacher today talked about heaven. He referenced I Corinthians 2 verses 9 and 10 and I've been thinking about it all day. No eye has ever seen, no ear has ever heard, no mind can conceive...but God has revealed it by His Spirit. No, our minds don't know, but there is a part of us (the part that yearns desperately for heaven) that knows what we are missing. Our minds can't know it, but our spirit, who is dancing with the Trinity, knows.  I think that's why I hurt from my gut most every time I hear or read or sing about heaven. There is a deep longing to be satisfied inside me. Thank You, Papa God, for the satisfaction to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-3499904840867626189?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/3499904840867626189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=3499904840867626189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3499904840867626189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3499904840867626189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2010/04/heaven.html' title='heaven'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-2812708678005112970</id><published>2010-03-20T02:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T03:08:17.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i can't sleep</title><content type='html'>So, its after 2am in Florida, but because its afternoon in Cambodia, I'm awake. It also could have something to do with the fact that I slept til 2 this afternoon. Or maybe its because my mind is reeling with thoughts of mortality.

During the three short weeks that I was in SE Asia, two friends passed from this life to heaven. You can read about these amazing friends at www.nmsi.org. John and I worked together. I will miss his quiet spirit who always asked how I was doing. He was the hardest worker I know.

Kylee will also be dearly missed. Kylee was there during my worst days. She sometimes took the brunt of my anger and yet she never gave up on me. She showed me so much love and care. There really is no one better that I've met at tough love. She loved me, but even more she loved Jesus and therefore hated sin. So, she confronted it. And, loved me through it. My life is changed significantly because of the clear reflection that Kylee is of Christ. Now, the fallen world is no longer her playground. She doesn't have to be angry at sin. She is dancing with real and perfect joy now. I miss you, Kylee.

This also reminded me of 2008. I lost a good friend and my grandfather that year. I'm so excited for the reunion that will happen when time fails us and Yahweh is King here on Earth. I can't wait to know all of my loved ones in their perfect form. What an eternity that will be.

For now, I will grieve the loss. And, Yahweh will help me through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-2812708678005112970?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.nmsi.org' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/2812708678005112970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=2812708678005112970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2812708678005112970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2812708678005112970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-cant-sleep.html' title='i can&apos;t sleep'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-2802297916802903164</id><published>2009-12-21T09:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T10:50:09.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/Sy-YtPcYUcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/RxRvShCfsy8/s1600-h/strauser+christmas+letter+09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/Sy-YtPcYUcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/RxRvShCfsy8/s320/strauser+christmas+letter+09.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417716779757097410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-2802297916802903164?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/2802297916802903164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=2802297916802903164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2802297916802903164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2802297916802903164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/Sy-YtPcYUcI/AAAAAAAAAFU/RxRvShCfsy8/s72-c/strauser+christmas+letter+09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-2028329425788738009</id><published>2009-08-31T17:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T22:12:41.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>do you love me?</title><content type='html'>The pastor at my church has been preaching on the third encounter that Christ had with His disciples, found in John 21, and this past Sunday, he talked about the section of scripture where Jesus asks Peter three times "Do you love me?" I was relating to Peter a lot in this quick conversation, because I so often want to say, "Yes, Lord, you know I love you."  What I'm slowly realizing, though, is that He is not asking this for His own sake. He is asking for mine. I was also thinking about Jesus' responses when Peter answered. There was trust in the answers. Feed my sheep, feed my lambs...Jesus knew that Peter would play a huge part in the start of the church, and it seems like, this was a bit of a passing of the baton to Peter. Take care of my people, Peter, I know that you can do it, and you can do it BECAUSE you love me.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can only love others because I love Christ, and I can only love Christ, because He loves me. And, then...feeding can happen. Such simple, gospel truth, and it's amazing how many times a day that we can miss it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that there is more to this passage...let me know what you think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-2028329425788738009?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/2028329425788738009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=2028329425788738009' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2028329425788738009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2028329425788738009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/08/do-you-love-me.html' title='do you love me?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-5848441465897651482</id><published>2009-07-09T18:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T18:54:45.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Indecision</title><content type='html'>It's amazing to me how powerful indecision can be. It can monopolize my thoughts and force me to think of nothing else. I get stuck in such a rut that I can not crawl out of it on my own. Wisdom does have a greater power, but how do I get it? Ask for it, right? Ok, I'm asking. Please LORD give me wisdom. I can't even buy a plane ticket without feeling like the minute I purchase the ticket is the minute the prices will go down or the minute a friend calls to say that they'll be in town and the ticket I just bought is returning the day after that.  What on earth is keeping me from making rational, even good decisions.  I need some Bible time...off I go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-5848441465897651482?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/5848441465897651482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=5848441465897651482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5848441465897651482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5848441465897651482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/07/power-of-indecision.html' title='The Power of Indecision'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-8242162174544523489</id><published>2009-04-03T09:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T09:49:16.198-04:00</updated><title type='text'>heartache</title><content type='html'>why does sin cause so much heartache? Jesus come soon!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-8242162174544523489?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/8242162174544523489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=8242162174544523489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8242162174544523489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8242162174544523489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/04/heartache.html' title='heartache'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-6040843398481310129</id><published>2009-04-02T22:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:37:32.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>new</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;is it spring where you are? Florida is weird, our seasons aren't normal, and that means that we've kinda skipped spring...our winter does feel a lot like spring, but its not the same when you don't get the deadness of winter that brings the amazing spectacle of spring.  nonetheless...it is spring.  and, spring means "new". and really, God is bringing me to new. God is bringing hope in places where i hadn't seen it before. He is showing me that He is alive and near. He is evident in heat of the day and the coolness of the night. i'm glad for spring...its bringing me nearer to Truth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-6040843398481310129?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/6040843398481310129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=6040843398481310129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6040843398481310129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6040843398481310129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/04/new.html' title='new'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-983564506354838380</id><published>2009-04-02T22:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:05:31.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>gifts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; "&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength"
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;repentance, rest, quietness and trust...gifts from above that i way too often don't think of that way.  God help me to receive these today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-983564506354838380?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/983564506354838380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=983564506354838380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/983564506354838380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/983564506354838380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/04/gifts.html' title='gifts'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-98167840245691470</id><published>2009-03-25T10:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T10:37:22.932-04:00</updated><title type='text'>living in fear</title><content type='html'>"Do not be afraid, for I am with you"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-98167840245691470?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/98167840245691470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=98167840245691470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/98167840245691470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/98167840245691470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/03/living-in-fear.html' title='living in fear'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-447666699619740838</id><published>2009-02-15T13:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T13:58:08.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>from Saul to Paul</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px; "&gt;...and Saul was there, giving approval to [Steven's] death (Acts 8:1a)...but Saul began to destroy the church (Acts 8:3a)...meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples (Acts 9:1a).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;THEN JESUS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px; "&gt;..Saul got up from the ground, but when he opened his eyes he could see nothing (Acts 9:8a)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px; "&gt;But the Lord said to Ananias, "Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name. Then Ananias went to the house and entered it. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, "Brother Saul, the Lord-Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here-has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.(Acts 9:15-17)...When he came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple. (Acts 9:27)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;THEN BARNABAS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;...So Saul stayed with them and moved about freely in Jerusalem, speaking boldly in the name of the Lord. (Acts 9:28)...Then the church throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria enjoyed a time of peace. It was strengthened; and encouraged by the Holy Spirit, it grew in numbers, living in the fear of the Lord. (Acts 9:31)
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;THEN PEACE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Father please blind me that I might see...please help me and others see that i am Your disciple...please help me see my Barnabas...then, Lord, please bring us your peace and strength and encouragement living in fear of You alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-447666699619740838?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/447666699619740838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=447666699619740838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/447666699619740838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/447666699619740838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/02/from-saul-to-paul.html' title='from Saul to Paul'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-3777965689540553884</id><published>2009-02-14T23:57:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T00:08:54.097-05:00</updated><title type='text'>love</title><content type='html'>when i say this, it's not intended for beating myself up with, it's simply for stating...i'm not very good at loving people, especially those that are the closest to me.  recently, i've let my fear that turns to self-protective anger (my sin) get in the way of relationships.  i say that i want community, but when it starts to get uncomfortable because it perpetuates the refining process, i get scared and lash out (again, my sin).  i say that i want to be loved, but when someone gets too close, i get scared and react (again, usually angrily and hurtfully).  i am what i have never wanted to be, i am abusive and evil.  AND, the only hope that i have is in the gentle love of Christ my savior.  please help me, Jesus, become more like you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-3777965689540553884?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/3777965689540553884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=3777965689540553884' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3777965689540553884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3777965689540553884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/02/love.html' title='love'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-5512927308221163505</id><published>2009-02-05T22:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T22:36:08.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a little bit of peace</title><content type='html'>i had a hard day today...i kept finding doors closed when i wanted and needed some answers from people.  there are other things that made the day hard, too, so tonight i wanted to just get away and get some perspective.  so, i started out by the river...its a beautiful place to watch the sunset.  Now, I know that I'll get some rolled eyes with this one, but...it was really chilly out by the river and after about 20 minutes, i couldn't be outside anymore.  when i left the park, i didn't really know where i was going, i just knew i still wanted to be alone and thinking.  so, i did what just about everybody does around 6pm...i went hunting for food.


i decided to go south on the main road in ft myers.  for those of you who don't know, south from where i live is the airport, and many of you know how i feel about airports.  on my way to get food, i spotted an aircraft heading toward the airport, so that's what i did too.  and, it made my day.  i sat in the cell phone lot and just watched as the airplanes took off and landed.  ft myers isn't a very large airport, but its pretty active, especially during snowbird season.  sure, i would have rathered to be watching in atlanta or houston, but this did the trick, and besides, you don't get palm trees much in those cities.

i was reminded how spectacular the machines that man has built are and that the air that the machines dance with still belongs to our creator.  to me, its a beautiful dance to watch.  maybe you should check it out sometime...see if you can appreciate it just a little more. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-5512927308221163505?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/5512927308221163505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=5512927308221163505' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5512927308221163505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5512927308221163505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/02/little-bit-of-peace.html' title='a little bit of peace'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-2907369890316218338</id><published>2009-02-01T00:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T00:10:25.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i know better</title><content type='html'>not profound or brilliant, but...surely by now I have learned my lesson...no more coffee at or after dinner time!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-2907369890316218338?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/2907369890316218338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=2907369890316218338' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2907369890316218338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2907369890316218338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-know-better.html' title='i know better'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-1727241888552983351</id><published>2009-01-19T22:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T22:33:07.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>make my day</title><content type='html'>I got to be a part of God working today.  He loves me and I'm finally starting to really believe it.  I just had to share, because it made my day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-1727241888552983351?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/1727241888552983351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=1727241888552983351' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1727241888552983351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1727241888552983351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2009/01/make-my-day.html' title='make my day'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-1767085357440166868</id><published>2008-12-21T14:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T15:56:20.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>discovery</title><content type='html'>i've recently become a huge fan of Lauryn Hill. she did mtv unplugged in 2002 with an album that is really raw and honest and worshipful (thanks to my friend Wendy who introduced me).  i'm still looking for the words to describe it, but its really good.  i think you should check it out.

&lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/artist/hill_lauryn/albums.jhtml?albumId=316654"&gt;http://www.mtv.com/music/artist/hill_lauryn/albums.jhtml?albumId=316654&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-1767085357440166868?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/1767085357440166868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=1767085357440166868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1767085357440166868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1767085357440166868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/12/discovery.html' title='discovery'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-7881793304360864504</id><published>2008-12-17T21:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T21:19:23.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sin</title><content type='html'>today's lesson is about sin and saddness.  it starts with a lie, and we've all believed it at one point or another.  the lie is that my story (the sin that's been done against me, to me...that i've done to others) or your story or the heart-wrenching story that we see on the news or the tragic story of the girl sold to monsters for sex or even the story of the starving child that sits alone on the side of a dirt street in Africa...i could go on and on, but here's the lie - the lie is that one of those stories is bigger than another.  we spend so much time comparing and emphasizing and bloating these stories that we're blind to this truth - sin doesn't have levels in God's eyes.  God sees sin and it breaks His heart!  and it breaks His heart EQUALLY.  i needed to know this...i needed to know that it was ok for me to mourn over sin, all of it no matter how small i thought it was...God's tears flow over all of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-7881793304360864504?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/7881793304360864504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=7881793304360864504' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/7881793304360864504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/7881793304360864504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/12/sin.html' title='sin'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-1394626276912646855</id><published>2008-11-12T08:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T08:36:50.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SRrbCBKFcvI/AAAAAAAAACs/Yc-BuEOgvrA/s1600-h/PA020373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267763541880173298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SRrbCBKFcvI/AAAAAAAAACs/Yc-BuEOgvrA/s320/PA020373.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
One of my favorite things about our Triennial conference was the amount of hugs and snuggling that happened.  It happened because we just pretty much have a snuggly group who cares about each other.  So, here are a few of my favorite people.  I hope that you can see the beauty in doing life together with friends and with an occasional snuggle with friends.  It helps with the really rough times, too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-1394626276912646855?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/1394626276912646855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=1394626276912646855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1394626276912646855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1394626276912646855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/11/friends.html' title='friends'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SRrbCBKFcvI/AAAAAAAAACs/Yc-BuEOgvrA/s72-c/PA020373.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-9214057135652480412</id><published>2008-10-30T11:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T12:05:23.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>today</title><content type='html'>So, I've decided that sinus medication is designed to trick you into believing that you're getting better so you'll get up and go and then fall back into bed once you realize that you're not really better, you just thought you were.  Ok, maybe not, but the idea in my head is that I'm feeling better, and when i get out of bed, it's as if there is a button on the bottom of my feet that trigger my coughing reflex.  As long as I lay or sit for long periods of time, these fits don't happen, but once I move, its mayhem at its finest.  I used to tell people that I would prefer a fever over a cold, and I'm seconding that emotion.  At least with fever, you know your body is working for you.  Coughing just feels like my body is rejecting air.  Don't I need air?  Does blogging about coughing constitute as complaining?  I hope not...I just needed to get it out (without upseting my lungs). :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-9214057135652480412?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/9214057135652480412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=9214057135652480412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/9214057135652480412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/9214057135652480412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/10/today.html' title='today'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-8643697057168111130</id><published>2008-10-29T16:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T16:19:43.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>travel weary</title><content type='html'>I guess I knew when I signed up for 32 days of travel that I would come back to the U.S. weary and exhausted, but I don't think I imagined it to be this difficult.  Sure, the weariness could have something to do with taking care of 250 missionaries at our Triennial conference, or maybe the 8 days of Istanbul or even the 4 days of checking out Germany. Or, ok, it could have something to do with finishing my biggest project of my NMSI career and wondering what on earth I'm going to do next.  Or, maybe, it's just the jet-lag and the sinus infection.  Whatever it might be, I'm exhausted!  As I sit here thinking about it, it really is no wonder.  Sometimes I believe that I can take on the entire world.  Ok, so I know how silly that sounds, but admit it, you've thought about it, too.  You've probably even tried like I have.  And, of course, as it is now hitting me square between the eyes...I do not have the strength to even last a month.  Yes, if you haven't already guessed it, I feel like I've been hit by a Mack truck.  I'm very aware that I haven't blogged in a long while and this is quite a silly way to get back into it.  So, there ya go...now, all I have to do is catch you up.  I'll save that for a day when I have some energy back!  Later. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-8643697057168111130?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/8643697057168111130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=8643697057168111130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8643697057168111130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8643697057168111130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/10/travel-weary.html' title='travel weary'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-2024284467262941584</id><published>2008-08-24T21:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T21:47:44.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>knots</title><content type='html'>There have been so many things going on lately that I have put off writing here.  The conference that I've been coordinating and planning for the past year begins at the end of next month.  That leaves me with a bunch of last minute things to take care of, and it leaves me little time to write.  I heard something today that I want to unpack a little.  The preacher at the church that I've been attending was talking about life issues that distract us from our relationship from God and from encouraging others.  He was talking about hurts and pains and he compared them to a piece of yarn with a bunch of knots in it...Before that piece of yarn can be used to its fullest, the knots have to be untied.  In most cases, this takes special care and often times a pin of some sort.  The process is meticulous and the pin is sharp.  It made me think about my life.  I know that I've been hanging onto some knots that keep me from being fully available for use by God.  I need some untying.  Its something to think about...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-2024284467262941584?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/2024284467262941584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=2024284467262941584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2024284467262941584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2024284467262941584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/08/knots.html' title='knots'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-8849535701867724232</id><published>2008-07-02T05:58:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T06:17:37.581-04:00</updated><title type='text'>in Bulgaria</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SGtVJDqBiFI/AAAAAAAAABo/EtbSlHCpw9s/s1600-h/HPIM3359.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SGtVJDqBiFI/AAAAAAAAABo/EtbSlHCpw9s/s320/HPIM3359.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218358207327602770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;













Michelle (one of our missionaries) and I at one of the oldest Roman gates in Bulgaria.
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Phil and I working on the menu for Triennial in the lobby of our hotel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-8849535701867724232?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/8849535701867724232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=8849535701867724232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8849535701867724232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8849535701867724232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-bulgaria.html' title='in Bulgaria'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SGtVJDqBiFI/AAAAAAAAABo/EtbSlHCpw9s/s72-c/HPIM3359.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-6065902390217682004</id><published>2008-06-23T00:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T01:00:19.988-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bulgaria</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;I feel like I’m sitting in the midst  of chaos, but in reality, I’m sitting in the midst of organized chaos.  My bags  are almost packed and I’ve already received the notice from Delta Airlines  prompting me to check-in online.  I’m just about ready to go.  I’m traveling  with Gwen, who is one of the most amazing people I know, so I know that it’s  going to be a good time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;I am on my way to  &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Bulgaria&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; tomorrow and am excited  about wrapping up a lot of the details for our mission-wide conference in  October.  I’m writing to ask you to pray for this time.  Here are my  requests…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;1 – Safe travels for me and Gwen.   I’d love to be able to sleep on the airplanes, too, and not have any motion  sickness.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;2 – That I would be an encouragement  to our missionaries and interns in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Bulgaria&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;3 – That all of the details that  need to be worked out get worked out smoothly without any bumps in the  road.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;4 – That I would rest knowing that  God is carrying us in His perfect hands.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Thanks so much for praying…I look  forward to sharing some great stories when I  return.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;God bless  you,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Arial;"&gt;Jen&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-6065902390217682004?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/6065902390217682004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=6065902390217682004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6065902390217682004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6065902390217682004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/06/bulgaria.html' title='Bulgaria'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-6809102261329001077</id><published>2008-06-16T20:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T20:56:04.859-04:00</updated><title type='text'>why i might want to be an alcoholic</title><content type='html'>I recently read an article in Christianity Today and the title of this post is the subtitle of the article. Its about brokenness and how its easier to see Christ and accept His grace from the bottom of the barrel than it is from the rooftops or even in the everyday mundane. It talked about how self-righteousness is one of the most difficult sins to overcome because the simple act of raising open palms to God is so hard for those of us who are white-knuckle clutching on to our own pride. So, that got me thinking about hand-raising. One of my non-Christian friends asked me once why I raised my hands when I worshiped. I don't believe that anyone has to raise their hands in worship all of the time, your heart is what God sees anyway. Trust is what He wants, that involves all of who you are...that's what He wants. I do, though, still think about the reasons that I gave my friend. Here's my thoughts... 1 - When you are in total-surrender mode, where are your hands? This shows the other person that you've got nothing up your sleeve and you're helpless. 2 - When a child wants to be held, how does he come to his parents? When he can't take care of things on his own, how does he present himself to them? 3 - When you're in trouble and the police are at your door, what is the first thing that they yell? Why do they want your hands in the air? It's called surrender. You can't lift your hands up and feel anything but vulnerable. I admit that I'm struggling with surrender, total surrender. It scares me! I want to fly and let God navigate, but that's my game. Pray for me, if you will, and tell me what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-6809102261329001077?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/6809102261329001077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=6809102261329001077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6809102261329001077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6809102261329001077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/06/why-i-might-want-to-be-alcoholic.html' title='why i might want to be an alcoholic'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-5820965518885077077</id><published>2008-06-08T13:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T13:35:20.745-04:00</updated><title type='text'>brats</title><content type='html'>So, I've just been reading a little bit of the military brat blog (its in my link list to the right), and it made me think of a couple things.  First of all, if you ever have a desire to know a little more about me, many of these posts mimic my life.  Sure, they aren't exactly my life, but without having to rehash all of the drama of moving around as a dependent, reading some of these posts helps me gain perspective.  You might also see perspective from reading there.  Another thing that it reminded me of was that I do have some stories.  My life is made up of so many stories that are separated in sections.  Each section changing with each move.  I have a Germany section and a Colorado section, etc.  I think I'm starting to understand just a very-little bit of how it might feel to write these down.  I do have some funny stories and some hard ones.  Maybe I'll find some good ones and post them here.  One last thing...I have this movie about brats...if you are one or would like to learn a little more about us nomads, you are welcome to borrow my copy.  I'd probably like to watch it with you, too.  Hey, and by the way, thanks for reading this blog.  I don't know who is and who isn't, but it's fun to know that someone is out there listening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-5820965518885077077?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/5820965518885077077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=5820965518885077077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5820965518885077077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/5820965518885077077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/06/brats.html' title='brats'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-6378289659822734765</id><published>2008-06-02T23:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T23:19:24.455-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't wanna have to work so hard for my food</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SES24qhM7cI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LXSOhuSoaPM/s1600-h/group+at+dinner.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SES24qhM7cI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LXSOhuSoaPM/s320/group+at+dinner.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207488153749614018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
We went to Joe's Crab Shack for dinner tonight.  It was a bunch of fun for Renee's birthday.  Several of the girls were eating crab legs, and I made the comment about how this is just too much work for my food.  I completely spoke that out of not wanting to pull meat out of a shell, but what would it mean in other contexts.  As an average Westerner, I'm lazy.  I don't have to catch anything in the lake over the hill.  I don't have to hunt for my food.  I don't even have to cook my own food if I don't want to.  What is that?  I am spoiled by everyone around me doing all of the work.  Sure, I know that this isn't a new topic that is profound or new...I just wish that I could stop myself from saying such apathetic things before they blurt out of my mouth.  I feel like a sloth.  Somebody teach me to cook!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-6378289659822734765?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/6378289659822734765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=6378289659822734765' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6378289659822734765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6378289659822734765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-dont-wanna-have-to-work-so-hard-for.html' title='i don&apos;t wanna have to work so hard for my food'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SES24qhM7cI/AAAAAAAAABQ/LXSOhuSoaPM/s72-c/group+at+dinner.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-2487793989819819990</id><published>2008-05-28T21:04:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T21:18:09.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i hate goodbyes</title><content type='html'>I don't think I'm going to say anything profound here.  Maybe I'll just tell you about my day.  I left our pre-field orientation one day early.  I really don't like saying goodbye, and I had about 50 to say.  Many of those were to new friends, but the worst ones were the ones of friends I hate being without.  I know that its awesome that these friends are spending the next two months overseas and doing great things for the Kingdom, I just wish that I could be with them all!  I miss them already.  And, the reason that I left a day early was to share in the memorial service of a friend who recently died of cancer (&lt;a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/scottwalker"&gt;http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/scottwalker&lt;/a&gt;).  So, basically, I think I'll go to bed now and cry myself to sleep.  The least I can do is gift these friends with my tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-2487793989819819990?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/2487793989819819990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=2487793989819819990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2487793989819819990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/2487793989819819990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-hate-goodbyes.html' title='i hate goodbyes'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-3315148282582950224</id><published>2008-05-18T18:48:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T19:06:24.861-04:00</updated><title type='text'>flying lessons</title><content type='html'>I was flying again on Friday, and lately, flying has caused me all kinds of anxieties.  My fear flies into my face as I get closer to departure time and then while I'm on the aircraft itself.  I was flying from Ft Myers to Houston with a layover in Atlanta.  The flight from RSW to ATL was interesting.  The gentleman next to me was gracious enough to let me talk his ear off.  The second flight, though, was much more quiet.  And, the woman in the seat next to me was unapproachable.  I was discouraged, but I didn't panic and run off of the airplane.  I thought about it, of course, but I wanted to see my friend Roxanne and attend another friend's wedding.  And, I didn't want to spend the night in Atlanta.  So, I hung in there, and here's what came of it.  The flight was miserable...summer air can be so turbulent, and I was smack in the middle of it.  I cringed every time we bumped.  It was awful.  The funny part was, though, that each time I cringed and screamed God's name in my head, this thought would come to mind.  It would say "Hang in there, I've got you."  That helped.  No, I didn't miraculously feel at peace, but I think that my blood pressure dropped.  Out of that thought and another one ("Reality is always my friend."), I started making a list of truths.  The thing that hit me the hardest was that God can not drop me.  His hands do not falter.  He doesn't trip over bumps in the carpet and drop me on the ground accidentally.  If God is holding me, I can't be dropped.  He's too perfect.  Does this help my faith...yeah, some.  I've seen people hurt in His hands, and that I'm still grappling with, but I'm in His big, strong, perfect hands, and that keeps my airplane flying in the bumpy air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-3315148282582950224?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/3315148282582950224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=3315148282582950224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3315148282582950224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3315148282582950224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/05/lessons.html' title='flying lessons'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-237514991685111514</id><published>2008-05-11T21:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T21:24:44.428-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bminor</title><content type='html'>I was just sitting here strumming on "my" guitar.  I put quotes around the "my" because technically the guitar is not mine, but the person who I am borrowing it from is most assuredly out of the country and won't be back to get the guitar for another 2 1/2 years at least, maybe more.  I'm excited to be able to use the guitar, because as you can imagine, I can't afford one of my own.  I'm not the best guitarist, of course, I'm just learning, but in my learning, I've decided that there are a few things I love about playing guitar and a few things I DON'T.  One of the things that I don't love is the Bminor chord.  Bar chords in general are a huge pain to me.  I hope that over time and practice, these will get easier to play.  Please tell me that they'll get easier.  Otherwise, I think I'll make up some new chords and play them instead.  Maybe, I just need to begin to look at frustration as my friend.  Maybe??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-237514991685111514?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/237514991685111514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=237514991685111514' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/237514991685111514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/237514991685111514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/05/bminor.html' title='Bminor'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-4156430717466638720</id><published>2008-05-04T20:12:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T20:46:45.529-04:00</updated><title type='text'>new picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SB5RjjAIt8I/AAAAAAAAABI/AGTYissYZIQ/s1600-h/P5040039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SB5RjjAIt8I/AAAAAAAAABI/AGTYissYZIQ/s320/P5040039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196680691165214658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So...today was a fun day.  I've been thinking about coloring my hair dark brown for a long time.  Today, my friend Laura helped me go through with it.  It was fun and felt awesomely rebellious.  I decided to straighten it today for maximum surprise.  I used to be a person who loved shock.  Most of the shock value that I showed was via my big mouth.  I could say almost anything and it would usually get the rise that I desired.  I look like such a kind, sweet person, right?   I wasn't!  I'm not sure that much has changed within my thoughts (or maybe it has?), but thankfully my out-loud words have gotten a bit more encouraging over the years.  So now, I'll just stick to shocking people with my hair.   I love it!
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-4156430717466638720?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/4156430717466638720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=4156430717466638720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/4156430717466638720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/4156430717466638720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-picture.html' title='new picture'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SB5RjjAIt8I/AAAAAAAAABI/AGTYissYZIQ/s72-c/P5040039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-3899918998338458683</id><published>2008-04-29T15:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T11:45:07.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>thought patterns</title><content type='html'>I am so torn between two thought patterns.  Sure, I know that's normal.   I know that everyone experiences the tug between good and evil within themselves.   I know that what I experience minute by minute is not something that you can't relate to.

This week's battle puts relationship against independence.  As a human being, it is built into me to desire relationship.  In the deepest part of me, I want it.  But (and I weigh that word heavily), I REALLY want safety.  Safety for someone like me, who comes from a plethora of broken relationships, does not encompass relationships.  My safe place is locked away in a room with no one else around.  You know as well as I do that a person could die there, I could die there and if I'm not intentional, I will.  I'm not stupid, I know the consequences of isolating and alienating myself.  I keep thinking that a rock-bottom experience might knock me out of this rut, but God would rather I just choose good in the middle of the regular everyday mix-up.

I think this is probably the first time that I've been this honest on this blog.  I don't like it, but it's easier to blog it than it is to talk with someone about it face-to-face.  Maybe I'll find healing here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-3899918998338458683?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/3899918998338458683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=3899918998338458683' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3899918998338458683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/3899918998338458683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/thought-patterns.html' title='thought patterns'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-4344653547427301720</id><published>2008-04-27T18:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T18:06:44.659-04:00</updated><title type='text'>home again?</title><content type='html'>I've been back in Florida for a couple of days now.  Its been great to rest from so much running amuck (as my friend Jen says) in Texas.  It was, of course, good and productive running.  And, it was also pretty exhausting.  I'm grateful for exhaustion as opposed to sickness (which I'm pretty sure that my body is fighting at the moment).

I really wanted to readdress this 'home' thing.  Here's why...I've been so-called 'back home' so many times in my life.  I don't like calling a place home just because that's where all of my stuff is, but the reality of life is that there is comfort in being in that place.  Its nice to be able to unpack everything in a place, no matter where that place is located.  Does this make sense?  I'm thankful for a place to lay my head and a room of my own, but I'm still not sure what this really means.

If you know, please tell me.  I guess its good that I mostly feel like an alien here, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-4344653547427301720?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/4344653547427301720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=4344653547427301720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/4344653547427301720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/4344653547427301720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/home-again.html' title='home again?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-7809985606869985752</id><published>2008-04-18T14:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T14:12:59.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>humbling</title><content type='html'>I'm astounded at the cool things that God has been blessing me with this time in Houston.  On the support front...God provided a big ole fat one time gift and another monthly supporter is increasing their support a bunch.  How awesome is that?  I guess I am doing what I'm supposed to be doing, eh?   WOW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-7809985606869985752?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/7809985606869985752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=7809985606869985752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/7809985606869985752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/7809985606869985752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/humbling.html' title='humbling'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-8960964314001045515</id><published>2008-04-17T23:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T14:18:27.480-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my favorite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SAgbprQBH-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/ySYfIdYIgPU/s1600-h/houston+skyline2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SAgbprQBH-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/ySYfIdYIgPU/s320/houston+skyline2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190428973342990306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-8960964314001045515?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/8960964314001045515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=8960964314001045515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8960964314001045515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8960964314001045515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title='my favorite'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SAgbprQBH-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/ySYfIdYIgPU/s72-c/houston+skyline2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-6233080728130678164</id><published>2008-04-17T22:52:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T14:17:37.377-04:00</updated><title type='text'>speechless</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SAgY6bQBH8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/a4IzO3vfIpE/s1600-h/boa+tower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 288px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SAgY6bQBH8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/a4IzO3vfIpE/s320/boa+tower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190425962570915778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
I love the Houston skyline, and this is my favorite building.  Its so geometrical and orderly. Maybe its my mathmatical brain or maybe its just I like elementary shapes.  Either way, I love this building.  I've always loved this building.  Its been my favorite to see when I fly into Houston and my favorite to drive by.  I marvel at this building.  It helps me to know that I am somewhere that I've been before.  It welcomed me this past Friday and it will wave goodbye as I leave on Sunday.  This skyline is special and amazing (and, that's not even talking about the people who are special and amazing).  I know that God is here, I can even see Him in the buildings.  What is your favorite skyline? or favorite picture you've taken with your eyes and heart and mind?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-6233080728130678164?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/6233080728130678164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=6233080728130678164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6233080728130678164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/6233080728130678164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-love-houston-skyline-and-this-is-my.html' title='speechless'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SAgY6bQBH8I/AAAAAAAAAAo/a4IzO3vfIpE/s72-c/boa+tower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-8434211305595540486</id><published>2008-04-16T12:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T12:04:43.108-04:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't wanna be normal...</title><content type='html'>I was just thinking that I want to explain the choice I made of "i don't wanna be normal."  Here's the deal.  Growing up as an Army kid, I hardly ever got the chance to be normal, unless we were on a base, and that was rare for us.  So, in high school, I think, when we were "settled" for a little while, I changed my view.  I'd fought so long to be normal, and it didn't work.  Now, I just wanna be.  Unfortunately, that means that when anyone tries to tell me that I'm normal now it evokes the bottom lip.  Needless to say...I don't wanna be normal anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-8434211305595540486?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/8434211305595540486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=8434211305595540486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8434211305595540486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/8434211305595540486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-dont-wanna-be-normal.html' title='i don&apos;t wanna be normal...'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-1924988677676983561</id><published>2008-04-16T10:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T10:29:11.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home?</title><content type='html'>To those of you who know me, you know that I'm about as rootless as they come.  Growing up as an army brat, I went to 8 different schools.  In my opinion, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; a bunch.  And, I don't remember any, but maybe one, of those places feeling like home.  When I came back to Houston this time, that changed somewhat.  Landing at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IAH&lt;/span&gt;, driving south on I45, stopping at Starbucks on Bay Area...all of this seemed normal and right and good.  I'm only guessing that this is what people feel like when they come home from being away for a long time.  Its been very surreal.  This has never happened to me before.  I don't really know a place called "home".  Houston has surprised me.  I won't stay here, but I am already thinking of when I'll come back again.  I like this feeling comfortable in a place.  (I'm sure the restlessness would settle back in again if I were here a few years, but I'm not talking about that on right now.)  I wanna hear about home for you guys.  Is it comfortable there for you?&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-1924988677676983561?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/1924988677676983561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=1924988677676983561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1924988677676983561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/1924988677676983561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/home.html' title='Home?'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14430479.post-7346583124590569638</id><published>2008-04-15T15:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T15:41:00.297-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a new blogger</title><content type='html'>I love Panera.  I'm sitting here watching a beautiful, warm-but-not-too-warm, Houston day outside and enjoying just watching the traffic.  Watching other people go about their "everyday" is so interesting to me.  What is the woman in the white shirt thinking as she rushes out of the restaurant and into her white SUV?  How fulfilled is the manager of this place?  He's been walking around with a smile, but is it genuine or just plastered on because the GM is around today?  The guy at the computer across from me has left his seat several times in the past couple of hours.  Is he here just to get out of the office or (like me) is he from out of town and just here because of the free internet?  Sometimes its fun look outside myself and see how normal everyday can be without trying to super-impose myself into it.  Normal isn't something I see a whole lot of at NMSI.  The community takes such great care of each other that being outside of it feels like walking into Grand Central Station without having any idea how to get to the train you need.  Uncomfortable, but strangely fitting into this world is I guess is where we're supposed to be.  Its a trust issue, right?

I feel completely random in this first post, but I guess that's kinda where I am.  I'm full of random thoughts that just keep coming into my head with no invitation at all.  Random keeps me entertained, if nothing else.

Hope your day is full of random, too.  Who knows what this brain will come up with next.
Have a good day!
Jen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14430479-7346583124590569638?l=idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/feeds/7346583124590569638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14430479&amp;postID=7346583124590569638' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/7346583124590569638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14430479/posts/default/7346583124590569638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://idontwannabenormal.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-blogger.html' title='a new blogger'/><author><name>Jen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00051397313322572946</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_21AcJRv5hoo/SbiCFA-hGyI/AAAAAAAAAE0/yOI2wbWawaQ/S220/IMG_0695.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
