<?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-8928516813286167054</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:46:13.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little birdy told me...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-687657766749439503</id><published>2010-02-07T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T15:07:02.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...... and I run down the aisle.</title><content type='html'>I am getting married. I mean, REALLY getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34 days. Praise the Lord, and hurry it up March 13th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I want that glorious day to arrive, I have been a scaredy cat. Daniel and I have yet to find a place to live or jobs, regardless of our efforts. I have been saying that God will come through; He will "provide." Man, that word can be so redundant and so misunderstood. And as of late, distant. The disbelief in me, after all God has shown me since childhood, is shameful and embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days I have come out of the state of unbelief and really just started to have a peace about this. I have rediscovered the pursuit of God again; for the simple reason that He is God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that Daniel and the mom-in-law-to-be have been saying for a while now is that God is going to provide for us in such an awesome, miraculous way that everyone around us who thinks we are crazy for getting married right now will see how great God is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what I have been praying for for the past week and a half, but my secret intentions for that prayer have been so that we will just be provided for. not necessarily for God's glory to be shown (man, I have a thick skull). And then a friend said something to me last Thursday night. He told me that he was just so excited for the wedding, which he has said on numerous occasions. But then he told me the reason why he is so excited; he has never seen two people who really love Jesus come together in this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, my mind was blown. God is already drawing others to Himself through Daniel and I's engagement and upcoming marriage. He doesn't need to perform what our human condition would call a miracle, to do miracles, and to get His glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;This marriage isn't about us. It's about the gospel. It's about love and hope and faith and victory. It's about glory.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God will take care of us. &lt;br /&gt;He loves us.&lt;br /&gt;Oh how He loves us.&lt;br /&gt;People will see and hear.&lt;br /&gt;And they will believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God will have His glory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-687657766749439503?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/687657766749439503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=687657766749439503' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/687657766749439503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/687657766749439503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2010/02/and-i-run-down-aisle.html' title='...... and I run down the aisle.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-310815595889291532</id><published>2009-10-29T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T09:10:47.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hooram.</title><content type='html'>I am filled with contentment this morning.&lt;br /&gt;There is so much I have to be thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum94m7rRYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/HIYwLFmZNh4/s1600-h/thankful+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum94m7rRYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/HIYwLFmZNh4/s200/thankful+7.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum8lZpX0bI/AAAAAAAAADk/h3d8t9pOgEM/s1600-h/thankful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum8lZpX0bI/AAAAAAAAADk/h3d8t9pOgEM/s320/thankful.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum80BoZT4I/AAAAAAAAADs/tMvRSN4xtRw/s1600-h/thankful+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum80BoZT4I/AAAAAAAAADs/tMvRSN4xtRw/s320/thankful+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum8-1eq6fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/nz7HoqMP7uk/s1600-h/thankful+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum8-1eq6fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/nz7HoqMP7uk/s320/thankful+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum9nIwxLUI/AAAAAAAAAD8/p6kxykTLvuw/s1600-h/thankful+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum9nIwxLUI/AAAAAAAAAD8/p6kxykTLvuw/s320/thankful+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum9nvCkDeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/SNSfnU3LPn4/s1600-h/thankful+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum9nvCkDeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/SNSfnU3LPn4/s320/thankful+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum9oTMPkRI/AAAAAAAAAEM/reo3xwQr4Z8/s1600-h/thankful+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum9oTMPkRI/AAAAAAAAAEM/reo3xwQr4Z8/s320/thankful+6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;For all of the above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-310815595889291532?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/310815595889291532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=310815595889291532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/310815595889291532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/310815595889291532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/hooram.html' title='Hooram.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/Sum94m7rRYI/AAAAAAAAAEU/HIYwLFmZNh4/s72-c/thankful+7.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-810732401231823416</id><published>2009-10-23T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T09:22:46.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Be Your Love.</title><content type='html'>I discovered this song a few years ago. I really enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rediscovered it yesterday on my what I think might be a 1st generation ipod.&lt;br /&gt;It's just a good song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yYqPMJSbM78&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yYqPMJSbM78&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-810732401231823416?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/810732401231823416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=810732401231823416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/810732401231823416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/810732401231823416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-discovered-this-song-few-years-ago.html' title='Be Be Your Love.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-6295846066681376806</id><published>2009-09-29T09:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T10:06:50.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All of them.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SsI8ovdjA6I/AAAAAAAAADI/Qq5ZtP3nihA/s1600-h/my+love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386934774921364386" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SsI8ovdjA6I/AAAAAAAAADI/Qq5ZtP3nihA/s320/my+love.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back at my old blogs.&lt;br /&gt;All of my toiling, questioning, confusion, dreaming, frustration, learning, questioning (oh wait I said that one already).....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all makes complete sense now.&lt;br /&gt;So much that it's humorous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny in the context that I kick myself and say, "Oh you silly. why were you worrying so much about this? Why wouldn't God give you the most amazing human being?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All just because He loves me.&lt;br /&gt;And ultimately to get His glory.&lt;br /&gt;And He funna get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause He is the most best God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-6295846066681376806?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6295846066681376806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=6295846066681376806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/6295846066681376806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/6295846066681376806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-of-them.html' title='All of them.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SsI8ovdjA6I/AAAAAAAAADI/Qq5ZtP3nihA/s72-c/my+love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-6079850245863370426</id><published>2009-09-24T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T07:56:48.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>South Carolina.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SruIqV3a3_I/AAAAAAAAADA/ZPC524SxGD8/s1600-h/DSC_0817.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SruIqV3a3_I/AAAAAAAAADA/ZPC524SxGD8/s320/DSC_0817.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385048040457035762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I understand that our environment isn't what makes us happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I think a healthy amount of that is ok.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And at the present moment, I am the MOST happy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God uses this place to speak to me. And to bring me peace. And to make me feel loved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So loved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I have my best friend with me this  time to share the joy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I have the most awesome man with me to make me feel like the prettiest lady.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am the most excited about this new adventure. And although I have resided here before, this new season will be a shmorgusborg of different experiences, callings, failures, successes, places, people and revelations of who God is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Excite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-6079850245863370426?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/6079850245863370426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=6079850245863370426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/6079850245863370426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/6079850245863370426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/09/south-carolina.html' title='South Carolina.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SruIqV3a3_I/AAAAAAAAADA/ZPC524SxGD8/s72-c/DSC_0817.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-8094137908656122605</id><published>2009-09-09T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T11:28:16.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skip town.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SqfsnGlH4PI/AAAAAAAAAC4/68luZv_hyGs/s1600-h/abandoned+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SqfsnGlH4PI/AAAAAAAAAC4/68luZv_hyGs/s320/abandoned+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379528436442718450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all seen an abandoned house. The paints chipping, there's water stains, the grass takes over the yard and there is just an overall unkempt face to it. And if you have ever been in a house such as this one, there is a deafening silence to the space. The only word that to me really describes that sound and the feeling you get is death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow this blog just turned slightly morbid, but I'm going to roll with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what goes through the mind of a person/family that decides to abandon their house. At what point does ones brain, heart and soul decide that it just isn't worth it anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look at the end result of their decision; a sadly empty box made of four walls and a roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just be real honest here. I had a moment, or rather a couple of moments today where my thoughts reached a place where abandoning this mission, this town, this community, these people.... sounded relieving. Relieving in the sense that because abandonment feels like the only option, if I were to actually do that, there would come the familiar sigh of, "Ahhh... at least it's over, and there's nothing I can do about it now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Houses are a lot of work to keep up. Sacrifices have to be made and time and energy needs to be poured into it so that it can not only function the way it needs to (i.e. the plumbing), but also that it can be a home. A warm place for the occupants to be themselves and live authentically. If anyone can testify to the truth of that, it's my mother. Maybe I'll have her guest blog on this one day. I think it would be a genuine read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I know that if I were to just pick up and leave, the Davenport world would not be shaken. But I am apart of something bigger, and what I do has impact; maybe big, maybe small. And so skipping town.... would that cause a piece of that something that I am apart of to just....die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because as I said at the beginning, death is the only way I can describe the feeling of an abandoned house. Or really, an abandoned anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, what if Jesus abandoned earth and beamed himself back up to heaven and said, "Forget it, I can't do this anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would be dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to leave it at that for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-8094137908656122605?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8094137908656122605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=8094137908656122605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/8094137908656122605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/8094137908656122605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/09/skip-town.html' title='Skip town.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SqfsnGlH4PI/AAAAAAAAAC4/68luZv_hyGs/s72-c/abandoned+house.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-932096035500325651</id><published>2009-09-08T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T19:53:36.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>duh.</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been bored?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in that time when you were bored you sat and just started spazzing around?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then from that spazzing around comes something absolutely astounding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that absolutely astounding something completely shocks your face off?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because...... it came from you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you're not sure how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because you didn't realize that you had such inventive, out-of-the-box, non-formulaic creativity just waiting to pop it's little head out and say "Hey there" with a big goofy grin like it's been there since day 1?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That just happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;And it has been there.&lt;br /&gt;Since day 1.&lt;br /&gt;Since the beginning of all absolutely astounding somethings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all this time...... all I needed to do was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JUST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh. oh yea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-932096035500325651?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/932096035500325651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=932096035500325651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/932096035500325651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/932096035500325651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/09/duh.html' title='duh.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-674196040059544483</id><published>2009-09-05T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T09:40:05.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>S- to the -aturday.</title><content type='html'>Today is SUCH the Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don'tcha just love it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun shines a little bit brighter. There's a nostalgic smell in the air, which for me is a medium breeze with a hint of ocean saltiness. Ohhh man, especially in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Don't ask me how I am able to smell that in Central Florida - it's a mystery to me too. Perhaps its my super hero sense of smell)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love nothing more than to be with my mom right now in the good ol' 305, running errands and eating a whopper with cheese from burger king (it would have to be Miami in 1994 for this to be awesome). And then going with my dad to the Scuba shop on US1 so that he can fill up his tanks and I can play with the little yellow one in the front window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Saturday is my favorite day of the week. So even though I can't do all of the above, I am going to make this day great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a fantastic amount of creativity that's been waiting to burst out of me lately.  I've decided I will put this day to  good use and do what I was made to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not aware of many activities more rewarding than doing just that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-674196040059544483?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/674196040059544483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=674196040059544483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/674196040059544483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/674196040059544483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/09/s-to-aturday.html' title='S- to the -aturday.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-550121188758948731</id><published>2009-08-31T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T13:17:14.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Robin and the Sparrow.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;Said the robin to the sparrow,&lt;br /&gt;“I should really like to know,&lt;br /&gt;Why these anxious human beings&lt;br /&gt;Rush about and worry so.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;Said the sparrow to the robin,&lt;br /&gt;“Friend I think that it must be,&lt;br /&gt;That they have no Heavenly Father,&lt;br /&gt;Such as cares for you and me."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;- Unkown Author.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;I think that will be my next tattoo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;Of course once I am out of debt and have developed a habit and a passion of giving generously.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;Hehe. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "&gt;Seriously though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-550121188758948731?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/550121188758948731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=550121188758948731' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/550121188758948731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/550121188758948731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/08/robin-and-sparrow.html' title='The Robin and the Sparrow.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-8890728577451822238</id><published>2009-08-26T22:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:51:47.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hush it.... I can't hear.</title><content type='html'>I know it's 1-something in the morning, but this spilling of words won't relent until I release them. So prepare for some blogger spillage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got off the phone with a friend. We had a long, challenging, difficult yet beautiful conversation that revealed his incredible fear of the unknown future;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which made me realize&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am jobless. I am single. And I have 14 dollars to my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no clue what is going to happen tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it is sweeter than Grandma Shirley's homemade chocolate birthday cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wake up in the morning (which I'm gunna say will be around 10-ish) there waiting for me will be an endless amount of opportunity and possibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can allow my past to tell me that my future will be filled with nothing but disappointment, rejection and failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or I can humbly listen to my past for it's opinion, thank it for all it's worth, and then tell it to sit down and please be quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key thing here is telling it to be quiet. Because, you see, my past only has one volume; LOUD. And if I continue to let it talk, then I won't be able to hear what the opportunities and possibilities are saying. The future will be drowned out by the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say that I do not know what God has planned for me in a few minutes, tomorrow, next week, next month, a year from now, ten years from now.... (you get what I am saying).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on this night of August 26, 2009.... I find pleasure, peace and excitement in that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an adventure waiting to be had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Megan Lee's Adventure.&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-8890728577451822238?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8890728577451822238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=8890728577451822238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/8890728577451822238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/8890728577451822238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/08/hush-it-i-cant-hear.html' title='Hush it.... I can&apos;t hear.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-9053031800099167232</id><published>2009-08-23T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T12:41:14.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The leap.</title><content type='html'>"You are a breathtaking reflection of God's heart for me. Of how he pursued me and loved me, even when I didnt love myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CANNOT wait to say that one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the getting there, the time between right now and "that one day" is terrifying at the least. Allowing the possibility for someone to love and/or reject me is scary as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well maybe not as scary as hell. Cause I hear that place sucks pretty bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you get what I'm saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing's for sure: It will never get to the point of "gritball."&lt;br /&gt;(I know I'm 5 years late on seeing Medea's Family Reunion, but I think seeing it today was perfect timing)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-9053031800099167232?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/9053031800099167232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=9053031800099167232' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/9053031800099167232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/9053031800099167232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/08/leap.html' title='The leap.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-5928778436591908353</id><published>2009-06-26T18:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T18:14:16.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Tribute.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SkVx1czm6tI/AAAAAAAAACw/_o9_rdGPb84/s1600-h/039_30399michael-jackson-posters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SkVx1czm6tI/AAAAAAAAACw/_o9_rdGPb84/s320/039_30399michael-jackson-posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351808895279360722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It don't matter if you're black or white.....so if you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and then make the change. It's as easy as 1-2-3, as simple as Do-Re-Mi, can't stop till ya get enough..... Cause this is thriller, and you are not alone. No one wants to be defeated, so be Bad, and just Scream!..... and beat it. They told me a man should be faithful, and walk when not able, but you've been hit by, you've been struck by a smooth criminal, and blood is on the dance floor..... So I'll be there to protect you, with an unselfish love I respect you. Just call my name, cause I wanna rock with you all night. You wanna be startin' something? Then dance on the floor in the round, but don't go around breakin' young girls hearts. There is a place in your heart, and I know that is love..... you can't believe it, you can't conceive it, but you rocked my world, you know you did. Dirty Diana asks Annie are you ok? Cause there's demons closin' in on every side..... but they say the skies the limit, and to me that's really true. So let's heal the world, make it a better place..... it all starts with the man in the mirror.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-5928778436591908353?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5928778436591908353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=5928778436591908353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5928778436591908353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5928778436591908353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-tribute.html' title='My Tribute.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SkVx1czm6tI/AAAAAAAAACw/_o9_rdGPb84/s72-c/039_30399michael-jackson-posters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-5188586427369658153</id><published>2009-05-18T22:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T23:04:36.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who wants chowder?</title><content type='html'>I hope you are ready for some blog vomit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause you see, if I don't get this out in some form or fashion, then I will have an anxiety attack which leads to numbness of my apendages and a possible ride in an anbulance, with a guaranteed dose of muscle relaxers (which come to think of it, doesn't sound so bad right now).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my best guy friend. I am so in love with him, and I have been for a very long time. And I don't know how to get rid of it. He is the only man in the world that I could ever see myself standing by, standing behind, standing to the side of, standing wherever he wants me to stand; the only guy I would gladly submit to in a heartbeat. He brings an encourager out of me, a woman that I had not seen in myself before. He makes me think harder. He respects me the way a woman, a special creation of God, should be respected. He is so silly and he makes me laugh like no one else can make me laugh. He pushes me to love God in a different way, in a better way, in a way that perhaps maybe God intended for us to love Him. I would do anything, go anywhere and be anyone he wants or needs me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all so cheesy and gross, and I really can't believe I am posting this.&lt;br /&gt;But it's true.&lt;br /&gt;And I don't think he sees it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-5188586427369658153?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5188586427369658153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=5188586427369658153' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5188586427369658153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5188586427369658153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/05/who-wants-chowder.html' title='Who wants chowder?'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-5256508151025323910</id><published>2009-04-04T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T11:11:51.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Redbox.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SdeQ6ugEUrI/AAAAAAAAACo/fkMpcs0JfyE/s1600-h/redbox_kiosk_1_300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SdeQ6ugEUrI/AAAAAAAAACo/fkMpcs0JfyE/s320/redbox_kiosk_1_300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320880823350874802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found a new annoyance.&lt;br /&gt;A pet peeve if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing has become more frustrating than getting out of my what is now a 2006 Kia Rio to rent a movie from the glorious redbox, and the most indecisive person God could have created is in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets make this person a male, and lets name him John Mark. Cause he would be a John Mark. John Mark is wearing cargo pants that are a sconch too short, tivas WITH socks, a superman logo t-shirt and sporting a 1993 haircut. You know exactly what I am talking about; a fresh 90's look, but still trying to stay true to the 80's kinda swagger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a breeding ground somewhere for John Marks who hog the redbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to my grievance; John Mark stands there with his legs spread like he is bracing himself for Jane Fonda's intense pre-aerobic stretch, and scrolls through the list of movies with a blank stare. This stance shows me that he, along with myself, will be standing here for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh p.s. at the redbox, time stops. It no longer exists the way it normally should. When you are standing on redbox grounds, you are on redbox time. So what really is only about 3 minutes in normal world time, could feel like 23 minutes in redbox time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sorry, but that is just way too much time. If I wanted to take 23 minutes to rent a movie, I would go to block buster (which I probably never will again because I owe them 32 dollars). But no, I choose the redbox because it is fast and convenient. Or atleast it's SUPPOSED to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I am, staring at the back of this man with impatience. At some point I pull out my phone with the intent to send a text of complaint to Jessi, as if she can do anything about this situation. Poor Jessi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start to shift legs and sigh and tilt my head the way people do at the DMV. But then I realize that this isn't the DMV, this is the redbox. And then I feel a slight twinge of guilt for being so impatient, followed by a heart of thanksgiving that I am nowhere near a Department of Motor Vehicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new attitude of gratitude (ha-ya like that one?) lifts my spirits and it almost makes me want to enter into a dialogue with Mr. John Mark cargo pants. I mean there is a plethora of topics we could discuss as we both share this movie renting experience. Maybe I could even aid in his decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I attempt to start off with some witty comment, He hits cancel on the touch screen and walks to his car, with his head hanging low in defeat, as if to say "I have failed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand there with that all too familiar "what the hell?!" look on my face. Did he really just waste 23, I mean 3 minutes of my time? We're all efforts, both John Mark's attempts to choose a film and my feeble go at finding patience and compassion, all in vain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Mark, we both deserve better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-5256508151025323910?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5256508151025323910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=5256508151025323910' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5256508151025323910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5256508151025323910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/04/redbox.html' title='The Redbox.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SdeQ6ugEUrI/AAAAAAAAACo/fkMpcs0JfyE/s72-c/redbox_kiosk_1_300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-1470994080909640000</id><published>2009-02-22T10:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T10:58:42.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>melodies that have yet to be.</title><content type='html'>there's so much music inside.&lt;br /&gt;i have to get it out.&lt;br /&gt;why can't i just make it flow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no reservations.&lt;br /&gt;just play it.&lt;br /&gt;just sing it.&lt;br /&gt;just love it.&lt;br /&gt;just be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just.&lt;br /&gt;be.&lt;br /&gt;it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-1470994080909640000?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/1470994080909640000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=1470994080909640000' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/1470994080909640000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/1470994080909640000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/melodies-that-have-yet-to-be.html' title='melodies that have yet to be.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-4538991567447410899</id><published>2009-02-03T14:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T14:06:53.818-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exactly.</title><content type='html'>I suppose I will never be good enough. Even for those whom I think would have thought I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm going to daily decide that not being good enough is ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I'm throwing 'good enough' out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to be exactly who I am, and sometimes exactly who I am might be great.&lt;br /&gt;And other times it might be difficult.&lt;br /&gt;There will be times when exactly who I am will be mean and spiteful.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes free and happy.&lt;br /&gt;A time or two when it will be completely broken.&lt;br /&gt;Even gross.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, gross.&lt;br /&gt;Silly.&lt;br /&gt;Tired.&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;Loving.&lt;br /&gt;Jelous.&lt;br /&gt;Hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;Bitter.&lt;br /&gt;Anxious.&lt;br /&gt;Apathetic.&lt;br /&gt;Joyful.&lt;br /&gt;Sick.&lt;br /&gt;(a short list as to not be exhaustive).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one thing, though, that I hope will remain a constant among the variables of exactly who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My passion to chase after this love that Jesus allows me to taste each day.&lt;br /&gt;Man, it's good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there will be a person who will accept all of this about me. Who will love me for, and in spite of, exactly who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be pretty sweet.&lt;br /&gt;But if not, it's ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-4538991567447410899?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/4538991567447410899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=4538991567447410899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/4538991567447410899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/4538991567447410899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/02/exactly.html' title='Exactly.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-5424364639444342940</id><published>2009-01-24T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T20:20:02.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living of Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SXvoGpMcIGI/AAAAAAAAACg/uq-xGSu3kqs/s1600-h/cusack2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SXvoGpMcIGI/AAAAAAAAACg/uq-xGSu3kqs/s320/cusack2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295080987739037794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For just one chance to find&lt;br /&gt;Love was someone that you loved to find&lt;br /&gt;For just the sense to try&lt;br /&gt;To walk ahead and leave the pain behind&lt;br /&gt;If the days aren’t easy and the nights are rough&lt;br /&gt;When they ask you what you’re thinking of&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your heart says not again&lt;br /&gt;What kind of mess have you got me in&lt;br /&gt;But when the feelings there&lt;br /&gt;It can lift you up and take you anywhere&lt;br /&gt;But the gravel beneath you and the limbs above&lt;br /&gt;If anybody asks you where your coming from&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say yes we live uncertainty&lt;br /&gt;And disappointments have to be&lt;br /&gt;And everyday we might be facing more&lt;br /&gt;And yes we live in desperate times&lt;br /&gt;But fading words and shaking rhymes&lt;br /&gt;There’s only one thing here worth hoping for&lt;br /&gt;With Lucifer beneath you and God above&lt;br /&gt;If either one of them asks you what your living of&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;Say love, say for me love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Avett Brothers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-5424364639444342940?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5424364639444342940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=5424364639444342940' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5424364639444342940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5424364639444342940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/living-of-love.html' title='Living of Love.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SXvoGpMcIGI/AAAAAAAAACg/uq-xGSu3kqs/s72-c/cusack2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-183296211849140997</id><published>2009-01-21T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T11:38:34.357-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHOA! dream big.</title><content type='html'>I have messy hair. It's just how I am. Even when I try to make it nice, it ends up messy. I like my messy hair, and I like doing weird things with it. I enjoy finding new ways to use bobby pins and clips and I don't care if it looks silly, because if I like it, no one elses opinion matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I haven't been my messy-haired self. I straightened my hair one day for whatever reason, and it just looked too boring to me. It didn't look like my hair. But I went to work with it straight anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cute boy that I work with thought it looked pretty. He told me so, and he kept staring at me all throughout the shift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been straightening my hair since. Even though I don't particularly like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night my hair was curly. And after an hour, it was back to being the mess that it usually is. That cute boy told me that when I am around him, I should wear it straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because to him, I look pretty when it's straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I doing?&lt;br /&gt;I know it sounds silly and a bit trivial.&lt;br /&gt;But why am I compromising who I am to fit into someone else's idea of beauty?&lt;br /&gt;Even if it's just my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                               - Mac MacGuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the movie Juno, and this quote is one of the many reasons why it has become a favorite of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there is a person out there who loves me for exactly who I am. He will think I am beautiful whether my hair is straight, curly, dreaded, dirty, clipped up, cut short, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must be myself.&lt;br /&gt;Because it starts with the hair. And then it's the body, the ideals, the beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;A compromising snow ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No snow balls for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm keeping my messy hair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-183296211849140997?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/183296211849140997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=183296211849140997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/183296211849140997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/183296211849140997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/whoa-dream-big.html' title='WHOA! dream big.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-7154510764622295072</id><published>2009-01-19T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T10:12:19.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One day His love will be stronger than my fears.</title><content type='html'>There are days when I really feel like money, or lack their of, is drowning me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am drowning in a large pool of non-money.&lt;br /&gt;I guess a better word for non-money would be our favorite word of all:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILLS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just be honest and say that I am completely helpless. I really have no idea what to do, other than wait and see what small miracle will reveal itself to me this day, or maybe the next....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so out of control. I really am. Control is 100 percent out of my hands this time.&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps it has always been, but I just don't see it until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a roof over my head. I have a bed to sleep in. I have food in the refrigerator. There is running water coming out of the faucets. All my extremities are working correctly. I have clothing on my body. The lights are working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be ok for today. He promises.&lt;br /&gt;I wish my bird was  more visible to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23309" class="sup"&gt;26&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt; "Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23310" class="sup"&gt;27&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? &lt;/woj&gt;&lt;span id="en-ESV-23311" class="sup"&gt;28&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin,&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23312" class="sup"&gt;29&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23313" class="sup"&gt;30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23314" class="sup"&gt;31&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?'&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23315" class="sup"&gt;32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23316" class="sup"&gt;33&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.&lt;/woj&gt; &lt;span id="en-ESV-23317" class="sup"&gt;34&lt;/span&gt;&lt;woj&gt;Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."&lt;/woj&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Matthew 6:26-34&lt;br /&gt;&lt;woj&gt;&lt;/woj&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-7154510764622295072?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7154510764622295072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=7154510764622295072' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/7154510764622295072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/7154510764622295072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-day-his-love-will-be-stronger-than.html' title='One day His love will be stronger than my fears.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-8849460973026917787</id><published>2009-01-15T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:31:04.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of all the days in the year of 2009.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SW_Fv_YAPrI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1oqmdhbZ7qo/s1600-h/batman+vs+batman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SW_Fv_YAPrI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1oqmdhbZ7qo/s320/batman+vs+batman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291665515440258738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me vs myself&lt;br /&gt;woman vs herself&lt;br /&gt;megan vs megan&lt;br /&gt;purity vs passion&lt;br /&gt;mind vs heart&lt;br /&gt;soul vs belief&lt;br /&gt;beauty vs vanity&lt;br /&gt;love vs lust&lt;br /&gt;black and white vs gray&lt;br /&gt;quality vs quantity&lt;br /&gt;thought vs impulse&lt;br /&gt;this road vs that road&lt;br /&gt;this choice vs that choice&lt;br /&gt;evil vs good&lt;br /&gt;good vs best&lt;br /&gt;questions vs answers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me the answers God. Please. I beg.&lt;br /&gt;A moments rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been me the past few weeks, more intensely the past few days.&lt;br /&gt;Split completely down the middle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Torn between..... well that's irrelevant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-8849460973026917787?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/8849460973026917787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=8849460973026917787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/8849460973026917787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/8849460973026917787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/of-all-days-in-year-of-2009.html' title='Of all the days in the year of 2009.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SW_Fv_YAPrI/AAAAAAAAACQ/1oqmdhbZ7qo/s72-c/batman+vs+batman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-3262105784012385550</id><published>2009-01-13T10:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T10:49:32.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SWziNRQ3dLI/AAAAAAAAACI/RmvD72F1Qeo/s1600-h/sandlot_07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SWziNRQ3dLI/AAAAAAAAACI/RmvD72F1Qeo/s320/sandlot_07.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290852379853812914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smalls. He was not the greatest baseball player. But Benny "the jet" Rodriguez refused to give up on him. A few tries, and Smalls finally got it. The great Hambino, Squince, Tommy and Timmy and the rest of the gang decided "he's alright."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sandlot. What a great movie. So many life truth's are portrayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. I was just going to parallel how Smalls had to pickle the beast with my current situation, but then I remembered another scene in the movie. A scene that does more than parallel. It solves my dilemma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benny: Fine, fine, FINE! Be like 'dat. So what are we gunna do?&lt;br /&gt;Gang: (collectively) GET POOL HONEYS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Squince made a huge decision that day when they all went to the community pool. He was in love with Wendy Peffercorn and he just could not keep it to himself for one more day. She was twice his age and gorgeous, but it didn't matter to him. He was going to let her know whether she liked it or not. For those of you who haven't seen the movie or need a refresher, let me share. Wendy was a lifeguard, and Squince was not able to swim in the deep end. Ahh... remember now? He jumps off the diving board into the deep end and pretends to drown. Wendy jumps in after him and ends up giving him mouth to mouth resusitation. Squince suprises everyone and lays a huge kiss on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next part is my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gets so mad that she drags him off of the pool grounds and bans him and the rest of the Sandlot crew from the community pool. He stands at the gate and cries a little, staring up at her on her lifeguard tower. She looks down upon him, shakes her head, smiles and waves.  He smiles and waves back, and runs off to join his buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on in life, Squince and Wendy get married. And have....is it ten kids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did what he needed to do, even if that meant rejection. Which it did, at first. But he was ok with that. He was satisfied. He smiled and moved on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE GOT to do what I need to do. I MUST obey my God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE TO TELL HIM.&lt;br /&gt;Even if that means I have to jump in the deep end and pretend to drown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In my case, it means getting on a plane)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-3262105784012385550?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3262105784012385550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=3262105784012385550' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/3262105784012385550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/3262105784012385550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2009/01/smalls.html' title=''/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SWziNRQ3dLI/AAAAAAAAACI/RmvD72F1Qeo/s72-c/sandlot_07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-7238300664870964174</id><published>2008-12-30T12:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T12:25:27.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It hurts so good.</title><content type='html'>So I decided about two weeks ago that I was really going to get serious about exercising. I created my own little routine and everything. There is a basketball court down the street from my house, so I walk 5 laps around it, run 5 laps, and then do 20 sit ups. I repeat this process 2-4 times, depending on how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate running. It hurts every part of my body. My lungs want to collapse and it feels like someone is chipping away at my shin bones with an ice pick. It's always been this way, since I was a wee child. I can walk briskly, do cart wheels, lift weights, swim for hours, roller blade up a steep hill, bike from eureka to the intersection of ludlam and bird and back..... but running. it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why, you ask, am I choosing to partake in such an activity as running, if I don't enjoy it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, because I know it's good for me. I know that it will better my health and overall well being. It may not feel good at the time and at moments be outright painful, but the results are so rewarding. At the end of that fifth lap, I am breathless and in pathetic pain but at the same time joyful because I am experiencing a glimpse of the end result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to the life lesson. God has a paradise waiting for us, but we choose to play in the puddle ( illustration often used by Jesse Carbo). The decision to go after Paradise is so often unattractive, and we feel the work we must do to get there will be too hard, so we settle. The puddle may not necessarily be bad; in fact it could be good. But it's not great. It's not best. I'ts not paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is the solution for this situation, this lack of motivation? (I think that's a John Reuben lyric- ha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the best answer I have come up with is to ask God for the motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the most obvious of answers. But then, if so obvious, why don't we partake in such a beautiful action as entering into conversation with the creator of motivation itself who loves us and delights in doing us good? He wants more than anything for us to fully experience the Paradise, so why wouldn't He do everything in His power to help us get there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh it is so simple. But we have to want it. We have to love Him with a wholeness that is not afraid of the sweat and tears that may result from the hard work. the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is for you Mary. And for me. This is for all of my friends and everyone I love. It's for everyone who I am working on loving. It's for anyone who reads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can do it. For the Bible tells us so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. Philippians 4:!3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-7238300664870964174?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/7238300664870964174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=7238300664870964174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/7238300664870964174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/7238300664870964174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/12/it-hurts-so-good.html' title='It hurts so good.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-5737519966860477057</id><published>2008-12-02T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T13:46:15.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have no creative title for this post.</title><content type='html'>First, I must get one singular frustrating thought off my mind: apparently in west palm beach, its permissible for senior citizens to roll through stop signs. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok. Now that i have gotten that off of my chest, on to more lovely things. I just enjoyed a nice trip to the intercoastal with Jess. She rode her bike (which is a smashing shade of baby blue) and I kicked it old school and skateboarded barefoot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll call it a bike-n-skate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did some bible reading (James chapter 2), mulled over a few "what-if's" and had a thought provoking conversation. It was good. It reminded me of our freshmen year in college when we were passionate about everything and the thought of being radical wasn't so far off. One time in particular, we read this book called "Red Moon Rising." It's excellent, and I highly recommend it. Anyways, it moved us so deeply that we felt we must start a 24/7 prayer room at our church. Countless hours of prayers, conversations and vision casting went into it (Yes Jesse- I look back now and realize that I was a vision caster 24/7). Looking back, I really cant believe how passionate we became and how in our minds, nothing was going to stop us. Needless to say, our church wasn't really into it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prayer? Non-stop? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who needs that when we have an invigorating prayer meeting every wednesday from 6 to 7?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(I hope you detect the sarcasm-emphasis on the adjective)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today we were discussing the difficulties of being a radical back in Biblical Days and in todays context. Was it harder back then than it is now? Was it easier? How can you compare the struggles of persecution back then and the plague of comfort today? What CAN we compare and contrast, and in the end does it really mean giving up our lives entirely to see change take place, both then and now? What examples can we look at, both biblical and non-biblical that give us these answers?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We still want to be radicals, and in some ways we already are. But what is the journey going to look like and how far can we/are willing to go to live love?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is where I would like to open it up for discussion. We came up with some answers, but I would love to hear yours. A collaboration of ideas, thoughts, scriptures, revelations and dreams are welcomed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-5737519966860477057?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5737519966860477057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=5737519966860477057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5737519966860477057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5737519966860477057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-have-no-creative-title-for-this-post.html' title='I have no creative title for this post.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-587457203111331969</id><published>2008-11-23T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T10:23:50.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh How He Loves Us.</title><content type='html'>i went for a walk this morning. as i was turning off of Canna onto Elderberry, I looked up and a plane was in the process of writing "Jesus Loves U" in the sky. I became, shall I say, EXCITED! and decided to run the the Hendrix house and tell them to come outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask this question: What does that man/woman have that woke him/her up this morning and compelled them to get in the plane and tell Davenport that Jesus loves them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was it that happened in me when I saw it that convinced me to run all the way to the Hendrix house to show them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know me at all, you know that I don't run. I mean, I really can't run, and it's pathetic. My entire body hurts and I feel as though I am going into cardiac arrest. Don't judge me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something bigger in me told me to run anyway, a fire that pushed me to go faster because there was a message so good that it had to be shared with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, give us the passion that dwells in the soul of that man/woman that feels it necessary to paint the sky with your truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-587457203111331969?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/587457203111331969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=587457203111331969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/587457203111331969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/587457203111331969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-how-he-loves-us.html' title='Oh How He Loves Us.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-3634218162461473690</id><published>2008-11-14T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T14:11:49.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm craving.</title><content type='html'>A little under two hours ago, I had a __________  encounter with Jesus. The reason why I fail to describe the encounter is because i really cannot muster up a word in the English vocabulary that would even begin to suffice. Nor does talking about the encounter in a blog give it any justice. If, at all, it must be discussed, said conversation must be done in person. But for now, this is what I give to you:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's just sit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have so many questions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But for now,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's just be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jesus,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a hug. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a body squeeze.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tears spill from my eyes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know that's strange.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I am just so happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because for too long,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been desperate to taste and see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh to taste and see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the best sit I have ever had.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-3634218162461473690?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3634218162461473690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=3634218162461473690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/3634218162461473690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/3634218162461473690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-craving.html' title='I&apos;m craving.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-5912433982040384629</id><published>2008-11-13T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T09:10:56.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your love is strong.</title><content type='html'>Nothing was more satisfying yesterday than Riley falling asleep in my arms. I found it to be one of the most worshipful moments of my week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I sat in my bed with the dim light glowing as i read the introduction to Thomas Merton's A BOOK OF HOURS. Just the beginning put me into such a peaceful state that I fell asleep and woke up a few minutes later smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up smiling. God is so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My South Carolina journey last week really gave me an opportunity to reflect on my life, the paths God has had and is putting me on, and where i fit in in the roots community. i learned alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*its amazing how good it feels to be respected and treated like the woman I was made to be. It really redefines who you want to be apart of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*we need to pray. and pray hard. and pray more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that about sums it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-5912433982040384629?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/5912433982040384629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=5912433982040384629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5912433982040384629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/5912433982040384629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/your-love-is-strong.html' title='Your love is strong.'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-3531831224535742384</id><published>2008-10-15T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T21:48:56.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus is for lovers...</title><content type='html'>... and I'm finally one of them. shall we start from the beginning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night Jesse, Mary and I had a talk that really opened my eyes to something I was lacking. At the time, I was not sure what that 'lack there of' was, but i was definitely unsettled. Mary and I decided to go to Status Sunday night. They were starting a new series called "Church=X"...hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;In a very small nutshell: if I don't have a burden for my city, then something is wrong and I either need to fix it or go home. After hearing that I took the Lord's supper and asked for a renewal of the soul and a burning love for the people of Haines City. The band then started playing "God of this City." Hmmmm.... coincidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A rush of electricity went up and down my body as I sang along, and all of a sudden I felt that burden that had been missing this whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday I decided that I was going to drive down to Haines City everyday and pray and walk (and scoot on the great yellow scooter) until God speaks His plan. So off I went. I drove around for a while and prayed through the neighborhoods and for the people behind the walls of the houses. It became very emotional, and the tear ducts were working overtime. It started to rain, and I figured I should roll my window up and just go home, but something stopped me and told me to walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got out of my car and walked in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best decisions I've made in a long time. It felt better than any shower I have ever taken. The best way to describe it is that I really felt God loving me through water falling on my face and soaking through my clothes. I came to the end of this street, and saw that there was a path leading down to an unknown location. I walked down this path and ended up in this huge field. Standing there in the wet, overgrown grass with the sound of thunder and the touch of rain on my skin was overwhelming. I really cannot properly describe the feeling. But all I could do was cry and laugh at the same time. I turned around and right in front of me, in the middle of this field were three paths leading back up to the street. The one of my left was all sand. The one on my right was dark and crooked and it had garbage on it. The one in the middle was clean, narrow and straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about scripture literally jumping out of the pages and into life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knelt down and in the mud let God take over and love me. And then I walked up the middle path. It felt so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I took the scooter and buzzed (like a bee-literally) around Haines City for 4 hours. I took pictures, met a nice man named Roofus, discovered a Christian Coffee shop, found a tea set that was destined for me, and experienced the sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could think was, "I am a human being again." I am comfortable in the very skin that God so passionately placed me in. And thinks I'm beautiful in. And loves me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I should have been sad and disappointed. But I wasn't. I am happy and excited for my friend. It makes me smile to experience someone wanting to follow God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked from the mall doors to my car, and in those few short moments I was connected and it was, as Mary puts it, ORGASMIC. Yea I said it. The wind was intoxicating, and I felt that if I didnt have a car to get into or a bed to go sleep in that it would be completely ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight the moon spoke volumes of its Creator, and that's all I needed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-3531831224535742384?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/3531831224535742384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=3531831224535742384' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/3531831224535742384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/3531831224535742384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/10/jesus-is-for-lovers.html' title='Jesus is for lovers...'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-62663078880420056</id><published>2008-07-25T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T13:06:54.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If these are life's lessons, she will take the test</title><content type='html'>So I've been alone for a little over 24 hours now. And you know what?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't fallen apart. This is a first, so GO GOD.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have always been an independent person. But only when I have chosen to be. I can be alone-sure. But when it's in my best interest. I, Me, My. Gaggg. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I am going to have to be alone outside of my own choice. And I think God has shown me that I need to be more than ok with that. I need to be joyful in it. He wants me to be so overwhelmingly in love with Him, that being alone means more time with Him, and when has that ever been a bad thing? I guess it's always been a drag for me. Until now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the past 24 hours, I have felt the need for Him deep down in my soul more than ever, and I think I actually believe it now. VICTORY! but not for me, for Him. I believe that I need Jesus. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I was upset because I had no gas in my car and only 3 dollars in my wallet, which wont even get me a gallon of juice, let alone a gallon of gas. I was upset that I was stuck in the house. My mom put a gas card and a Publix card in the mail, and it should have arrived this morning. It didn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I still have no gas in my car and I still only have 3 dollars in my wallet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I am so happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-62663078880420056?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/62663078880420056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=62663078880420056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/62663078880420056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/62663078880420056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/07/if-these-are-lifes-lessons-she-will.html' title='If these are life&apos;s lessons, she will take the test'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8928516813286167054.post-2623685618467976367</id><published>2008-07-23T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T21:48:44.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1 Thessalonians 4:3</title><content type='html'>Last night I was reading July 22 in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Utmost for His Highes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;, by Oswald Chambers. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side note: I have been doing a 40 day fast, and yesterday was day 28. After 28 days, your body starts to get used to the deprivation of food, and for the most part you carry on your life as normal; and that was the problem. Yet again, I forgot that I needed Jesus. That I will ALWAYS need Jesus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyways, I am reading, and the subject of the day is sanctification. What a word. Dictionary.com defines sanctification as the act of purifying or freeing from sin; to make holy, set apart as sacred; consecrate. In the American Christian church, at least where I come from, it's just another one of those big words that we read aloud in sunday school and have small hopes to achieve, because well, we don't understand what it means. Well last night, I think God reveal to me a SMIDGEN of what it means to be sanctified. And uhh..... it's a scary thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a snippit of what Oswald says:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"In the process of sanctification, the Spirit of God will strip me down until there is nothing left but myself, and that is the place of death. Am I willing to be myself and nothing more? Am I willing to have no friends, no father, no brother, and no self interest-simply to be ready for death? That is the condition required for sanctification. No wonder Jesus said, "I did not come to bring peace but a sword" (Matthew 10:34). This is where the battle comes, and where so many of us falter. We refused to be identified with the death of Jesus Christ on this point. We say, "But this is so strict. Surely He does not require that of me." Our Lord is strict, and He does require that of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Am I willing to reduce myself down to simply "me?" Am I determined enough to strip myself of all that my friends think of me, and all that I think of myself? Am I willing and determined to hand over my simple naked self to God? Once I am, He will immediately sanctify me completely, and my life will be free from being determined and persistent toward anything except God (see 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean really, does that sound at all like what we learned in Sunday school? Nope. It means so much more than, at present, I want to understand. Last night I prayed that God would somehow bring me to a place where I am willing to do this; to be sanctified. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning I woke up with a cold. Scratch that- the influenza of death (that's me being a little melodramatic). My throat was almost swollen shut, my head was pounding, and I had a pretty high fever (that I am serious about). My whole body ached, and I felt so weak, due mainly to the fasting. Aunt Flo also decided to stop by for a visit as well (sorry guys). I moped around for a while, periodically saying that "I wanted my mommy." Then I did what I always do when I am extremely sick- I turned the shower on to scalding, and stood in the bathtub for a very long time. I know that I should be taking a cold shower, because it will help to break the fever, but the hot water felt so much better (wow-even as i type now, I am noticing some parallels that I didn't see before...who knew?). I was thinking of all the different ways I could try and get better, and then like a ton of bricks; (sorry for the cliche-but you get the point) I NEED JESUS! I started crying and talking to God in the shower like a little child. I asked him over and over to release this illness from my body so that I can- and then I changed my train of thought. What I was going to say was, "so that I can be proactive and find a job today." Instead I said, " so that I can tell everyone that I need You." I pleaded for God to just touch me once and make all the physical pain go away, but nothing happened. I turned the water to cold, got down on my knees (yes, I am still in the shower) and starting singing to Him, hoping that He would have some mercy on my throbbing temples. Nothing happened. I turned off the water and stood there for a moment thinking. And WABOW! Another realization. The past few days I have gotten so used to not eating that I haven't really conversed with God, let alone read or spent any time in his presence. He was allowing this sickness for a reason. I went into my room, laid down in my bed, and closed my eyes. What a glorious God. And even now, it's crazy for me to say that, because I am sick and I want him to make me feel better. But I don't, and that's right where he wants me. He wants me to NEED Him more than anything else. Even if that means confining me to the house, keeping me in my bed (with no working cable or dvd player in the room-we cant get the remote to work.... coincidence? I think not), and making me lay there in silence. In his presence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Michelle walked into the room and told me that she was thinking about going home tomorrow for a few days. Jesse and Anitra are also traveling home tomorrow as well, so that gives me two opportunities to go home tomorrow and see my family, who I miss so much. I could also see Jessica who just got back from Japan. I could be in a familiar place, and have a nice time surrounding myself with everything and everyone I love. But deep down in my soul, God was saying no. He was saying, "stay in this huge house alone- strip yourself of everything you think you need and love and want and let me work on you." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God has taken my soul the past few weeks and slaughtered it- and it hurts so good. It's like getting a tattoo- the pain is frustrating and at some points it hurts a lot, but at the same time it feels kinda good because you know it's going to look amazing when it's finished (yes, me and my tiny tattoo can testify to this experience). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never realized my human struggle until this fasting experience. I've never been wealthy or have had everything I have ever wanted, but really in proportion to the rest of the world, I am a Princess. And until now, this Princess has always had a full tummy. There was no struggle, really, that I saw (with the exception of the few times in my life God has revealed the struggle to me). But this is a whole new playing field. It's amazing the reality you see when something you think you need, and oh so badly want, is removed from your life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I dont really know how to end this, but all I have to say is that for tonight, I need Jesus.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8928516813286167054-2623685618467976367?l=meganleesadventures.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/feeds/2623685618467976367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8928516813286167054&amp;postID=2623685618467976367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/2623685618467976367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8928516813286167054/posts/default/2623685618467976367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meganleesadventures.blogspot.com/2008/07/1-thessalonians-43.html' title='1 Thessalonians 4:3'/><author><name>meganlee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07967529680322436346</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MMUsPu6RNAQ/SRyqyKTrHqI/AAAAAAAAABU/ldNcD65zy6U/S220/jo%27s+persp.+of+me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
