<?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-16695890</id><updated>2011-09-24T13:54:56.429-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Significant Insignificance</title><subtitle type='html'>There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>195</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6577126668148175212</id><published>2010-12-26T16:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T17:31:26.092-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, how He answers...</title><content type='html'>I've been asking God, what's next? What I am I going to be doing? What now? How? When? Where? How long? Where will I be? What will I do? Is this ever going to work? With who? So many questions I could go on and on. Especially... why won't you just answer me? You've been answering other things. I know You hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the other night He said "I love you, but I don't always answer right away, within 24 hours, or when you demand. But I do answer when I see best fit; when I know you are ready. I answer in perfect timing for you. And really the only thing you need to know and remember is that I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; answer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reluctantly realized... better yet, reluctantly admitted, "Well, He answered me." He just said "Not right now, but don't stop seeking." This morning, at church, He answered me a little more: FAST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of looking around like "Me?... Dad, are you speaking to the right daughter? Did you get momentarily confused? I've never fasted in my life! I don't know what to do." He was like "I'm going to teach you from those who fasted in my Word. And I will reveal to you exactly what I want." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 days no computer. And that is just the start. I was like "Okay, 7 days next week! Phew!" He said "No, 7 days starting Today." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was the end of that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6577126668148175212?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6577126668148175212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6577126668148175212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6577126668148175212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6577126668148175212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/12/oh-how-he-answers.html' title='Oh, how He answers...'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-9036223098986367228</id><published>2010-12-23T23:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T23:48:25.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Struggling with how to live in the now, but not yet.</title><content type='html'>If I am to be completely honest, distraught would be an understatement for how I feel. I am feeling furious at myself, for completely falling into Satan's schemes and not going on the World Race. It was pretty much the most idiotic entrapment of my life. Obvious. But one I pushed through and continued to ignore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still feel called to the World Race. I know that this time it will be even harder. I've never been so fearful or had so many questions in my head. The questions are brewing. How? When? My student loans? My car? Sell my stuff? My lease isn't up until November. What then? Work until a January race? Quit my job then? Wait longer? What happens when I get back? What about Orlando? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is broken. And I can feel the Holy Spirit growing restless within me. I have been on my face praying about it, yet feeling and hearing absolutely nothing. So, tonight I just laid in my floor and cried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one of my best friends suddenly texts me this verse and says "This is the coolest verse ever": Job 33:13-18&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you complain to him that he answers none of man's words? For God does speak--now one way, now another--though man may not perceive it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on men as they slumber in their beds, he may speak in their ears and terrify them with warnings, to turn man from wrongdoing and keep him from pride, to preserve his soul from the pit, his life from perishing by the sword." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been desperately wanting God to show me the big picture. He's been doing some amazing freeing of strongholds in my life. My quiet times have been out of this world. It's like He's still putting the outside, straight edge pieces of the puzzle together. However, I have not been content with that. I have been begging for Him to start putting in the middle pieces. The ones where I can begin to see the full picture. Being informed and those middle pieces brings a sense of security. It's natural to want to know what's happening in our lives. Job's frustrations had grown, and he wanted to know what was going on, the reasons he was suffering. Elihu told Job that God was trying to answer him, but he was not listening. Elihu wasn't exactly correct. God does not tell us everything we want to know for reasons of His own. Some of our greatest tests of faith come from the not knowing why or understanding. God always draws near in the midst of our questions. He's more than intent on listening and answering. I must trust in who I know God to be: forever good and forever faithful. He'll reveal to me in His perfect timing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-9036223098986367228?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/9036223098986367228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=9036223098986367228' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/9036223098986367228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/9036223098986367228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/12/struggling-with-how-to-live-in-now-but.html' title='Struggling with how to live in the now, but not yet.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8684598320976203640</id><published>2010-12-22T20:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T23:04:00.130-06:00</updated><title type='text'>to be Your bride</title><content type='html'>Jesus,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My King! My Salvation! My Righteousness! I delight greatly in You! My soul rejoices in my God! For you have clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. You are so romantic! Thank you for being so tender toward me, and for making it your life's aim, as my Shoot and Arrow, to bind up my broken heart and bestow on me a crown of beauty instead of ashes. Thank you for making me the love of Your life. You are the restorer of dignity, virtue and honor to your daughters as the world tries to demoralize us. I thank you for dreams, so that I long for Your reality. Thank you for even my girlish dreams, so that You can show Your glory by surpassing them. You are the most handsome groom any girl could ask for! And as your bride, I want to follow you anywhere. Even places Jesus, that seem like the wilderness, for I know You always have a purpose. You sometimes lead to difficult places, but I know You are trustworthy. You, Jesus, are not a man, so You cannot lie. Nor are You a son of man, so You never change Your mind. You speak and always act. You promise and always fulfill. You say that You are enthralled by my beauty! Thank you for giving me that beauty through Your Cross. I want to honor You, Jesus. For You are my Lord! You even say, all glorious is the princess within her chamber, her gown is interwoven with gold. Oh! How we all long to be princesses! You have put that within our hearts! You tell us next, God, in embroidered garments we are led with joy and gladness to our King! You redeem us because of Your unfailing love! We can enter Your palace clothed in bright white because of Jesus' righteousness! God, that every girl would see that she is gorgeous! That she could see that You run to her. You are after her heart. You are our great Pursuer. I pray, God, that girls would begin to listen for Your voice, so they can hear You say, "How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh how beautiful!" I pray that your daughters would begin to surrender wholly to You, realizing that we are not really giving anything up. But we are gaining the Greatest thing to ever happen to us... You! God, help us to break our alabaster jars before You. We surrender and say yes before we know where You made lead because we know that You will go with us. Christ in us is the hope of glory. What privilege! May we walk with our hands raised for the sake of Your glory. God, help me to love Your Son above anyone and anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you! xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8684598320976203640?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8684598320976203640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8684598320976203640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8684598320976203640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8684598320976203640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/12/to-be-your-bride.html' title='to be Your bride'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8917948913392032079</id><published>2010-12-21T23:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T23:03:23.707-06:00</updated><title type='text'>South Carolina</title><content type='html'>I'm so grateful for your comment; it greatly encouraged me. I'm not sure what you meant by renewing your relationship with Christ. I don't know how far you've gone, where you are, or what you have done... but know that Christ runs to you. No matter what. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tamar is written about in 2 Samuel 13:1-22. Although Tamar had a heinous crime done to her, I think as women we can relate to her feelings of being desolate or disgraced, whether from our own sin or the sins of others committed against us. Satan is actively and progressively pedaling the demoralization of women. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share a beautiful picture of Christ in something that Beth Moore wrote. She often times, writes from Biblical stories, yet gives them her own personal imagination.  Therefore, it gives us even more a sense of just how our King relates to us. I put myself right where Tamar sat... in ashes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     "Imagine Tamar: grief-stricken, sobbing, ashes on her head. Her body in a heap on the cold floor. Soot covers her beautiful face and smears the rich colors of her torn robe. Her outward appearance echoes the cavernous darkness in her soul. Hopelessness and death well up in her. She is nothing but a tomb. &lt;br /&gt;     The door of her room slowly creaks open. A stream of cloudy sunlight pours through the door. A figure of a man takes form within it. Not Absalom. No, she would recognize Absalom anywhere. Her hearts jumps with sickening terror; then the figure steps through the door and His visage becomes clear. Tamar has never seen Him before, yet He looks so familiar. Not frightening. And she should be frightened. No man should be entering her chamber. She should run, but she cannot seem to move.&lt;br /&gt;     She glances down at the hands that seem paralyzed on her lap, her palms covered with ash. She suddenly becomes shamefully aware of her appearance. Wretchedness sears her heart. She is certain her violated estate is obvious. She despises herself. &lt;br /&gt;     'Tamar,' the man speaks gently and with warm familiarity. &lt;br /&gt;     Her heart sobs, 'She is dead!' A slave of shame has taken her place. &lt;br /&gt;     He approaches and takes her face in His hands. No one has ever done that before. The overwhelming intimacy turns her face crimson, not with shame but with vulnerability. His thumbs sweep over her cheeks and wipe the tears from her face. As He takes His hands from her face and places them on her head, her throat aches with fresh cries as she sees the filth on His hands. Her filth. He draws back His hands and she senses something on her head. Perhaps in His mercy He has hooded her disgrace. &lt;br /&gt;    The man offers her His hands, still covered with soot, and she takes them. Suddenly she is standing. Trembling. He leads her to the brass mirror hung on the wall. She turns her face away. He lifts her chin. She gives the mirror only a glance. Her heart is startled. She begins to stare. Her face is no longer streaked with dirt. Her cheeks are blushed with beauty; her eyes are clear and bright. Her torn coat is gone. A garment of fine white linen graces her neck and adorns her frame. The King's daughter, pure and undefiled. Beauty from ashes." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you see, SC, who you truly are in Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8917948913392032079?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8917948913392032079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8917948913392032079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8917948913392032079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8917948913392032079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/12/south-carolina.html' title='South Carolina'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2626660806274578268</id><published>2010-12-20T00:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T23:02:41.514-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't want to be concerned with the affairs of this world. No matter what they are, how big or persistent they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to know my Daddy's heart. I desperately want mine to beat with His.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2626660806274578268?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2626660806274578268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2626660806274578268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2626660806274578268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2626660806274578268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-dont-want-to-be-concerned-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-567379567395640030</id><published>2010-12-17T22:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T22:32:00.363-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I'm Afraid</title><content type='html'>Maybe I'm afraid to open up and let You in behind the curtain&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid of the questions I know You'd raise, of what I thought was certain&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid of the mess that it's sure to make, of all I tried to simplify and organize&lt;br /&gt;But I just can't deny that there's no way I can hide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's written on my face and all the complications&lt;br /&gt;Fumbling with my equations now &lt;br /&gt;They crumble to the ground&lt;br /&gt;With everything I fought to be without Your help&lt;br /&gt;Cause if I let You in I'll never be the same, so I try to escape&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid to let it go and just accept the love You've spoken&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid of the way that I know You'll fix everything that's broken&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm afraid cause I don't know who You are&lt;br /&gt;And that the more I keep from You&lt;br /&gt;The more I'll lose, so what am I holding on to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afraid I'll be complete and still so weak in Your hands&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid&lt;br /&gt;Afraid that it won't last&lt;br /&gt;I'll only be only half without You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid to let You change my heart with all it's hiding&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I'm afraid that I just might fall apart unless Your beside me&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm afraid &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Kerrie Roberts&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-567379567395640030?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/567379567395640030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=567379567395640030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/567379567395640030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/567379567395640030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/12/maybe-im-afraid.html' title='Maybe I&apos;m Afraid'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7153754701767949779</id><published>2010-08-02T14:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T15:05:31.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've realized that most of my decisions have come down to fear. Especially. Fear. Of. Failure. I sit defeated. Every. Time. I choose to take the path of least resistance when I've been shown the other even when I know what's at the end of both. It's like a built in default mechanism. I choose what's comfortable, what's familiar, and what I know. Or think I know. I'm not made for but one path, so I always end up back at square one. I come back to the beginning of the 2 crossroads with 1 decision to make. When will I choose to stay on the path I was created for and keep trudging forward, believing in what I know to be at the end?...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7153754701767949779?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7153754701767949779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7153754701767949779' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7153754701767949779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7153754701767949779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/08/ive-realized-that-most-of-my-decisions.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3439625662005760632</id><published>2010-03-26T16:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T16:43:43.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes people don't know you very well. and it makes me wonder if they ever will. how can they assume things about you when they haven't taken the time to really understand your past, who you are now, who you desire to be or the depth of your heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or maybe you've been so scared of their response... you haven't shown them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3439625662005760632?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3439625662005760632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3439625662005760632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3439625662005760632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3439625662005760632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2010/03/sometimes-people-dont-know-you-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3752301857593995969</id><published>2009-12-08T23:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T23:49:43.841-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The stories of my life share a common theme, and that is the evidence of God working. He continues to put me in places I don't deserve to be. He gives me what I don't deserve to have. He loves me how I don't deserve to be loved...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3752301857593995969?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3752301857593995969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3752301857593995969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3752301857593995969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3752301857593995969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/12/stories-of-my-life-share-common-theme.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8490974610925217410</id><published>2009-12-07T21:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T23:51:38.199-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/Sx86wucCnII/AAAAAAAAACI/4bYSZ1peU6k/s1600-h/life.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/Sx86wucCnII/AAAAAAAAACI/4bYSZ1peU6k/s320/life.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413109885896400002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8490974610925217410?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8490974610925217410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8490974610925217410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8490974610925217410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8490974610925217410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/Sx86wucCnII/AAAAAAAAACI/4bYSZ1peU6k/s72-c/life.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6468328630969012594</id><published>2009-12-03T13:25:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T21:45:16.373-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I got accepted!</title><content type='html'>I got accepted to the World Race!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's what God has called me to do, but my heart, actually my flesh is tearing me apart. My heart has been so eager for the things of God. I've been driven. Yet, Satan has been attacking me from all sides. He's been bringing up my past. He's been bringing up my future. He's been keeping me busy. He's brought me down. I've had things thrown in my face. He's been ruining my reputation. He's been pulling me from my First Love. He's trying. to. keep. me. BOUND. He's trying. to. keep. me. from. doing. God's Work. He's trying to keep me from my calling. He's pushing. He's pulling. He's tripping me up. He's been putting plenty of stumbling blocks in front of me. He's reminded me of my worst fears. He's making me think I'm going to "miss out." He's pulling every thing out. All the weapons. But Who and What am I meant to live for? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a book, over the summer, called Lady in Waiting.  It was a devotional for girls to teach them how to become mighty women of God.  It has made a lasting impact, and continues to make waves in my life today.  The first chapter is titled "A Lady of Reckless Abandonment". It focuses on the beautiful story of the woman who anointed Jesus' feet with an expensive jar of perfume.  This is one of my favorite stories because it demonstrates the power of abandonment.  The jar of perfume was far more than just expensive liquid.  Traditionally, the Hebrews would use this jar to collect all of their tears and then mix it with perfume.  It was this beautiful idea that God was collecting all of their grief and turning it into an exquisite fragrance.  So when the woman knelt down and broke her alabaster jar before Jesus, she was not just pouring out expensive liquid – she was literally taking every tear her heart had ever cried and placing it at the Lord's feet.  Scripture says that she did not just pour the perfume on Christ's feet – no she did something far more beautiful.  She completely broke the jar.  She decided that she would no longer collect tears, and would simply abandon everything and follow Jesus.  In this moment, I can just feel her brokenness.  I can just feel her heart saying "Take all of me Jesus, take my past, take my hurts, take my grief, take my passions, I break it all at your feet."  She did this because she recognized Jesus as God.  Once she realized that the God of the universe was before her, it was everything she could do to contain herself.  She ran to find the most precious thing that she owned, the thing that she treasured closest to her heart, and then broke it at Jesus' feet in a sign of submission.  She was a woman of Reckless Abandonment.  Because of this act of brokenness, Jesus says that her story would be told throughout the entire world for thousands of generations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that phrase – Reckless Abandonment.  I can just feel the freedom saturating those words.  In order to abandon things, truly abandon them, there is a wild passion behind it.  It is the type of passion that drives crazy people to do the impossible.  It is the type of passion that makes people believe that dreams are possible, and that Kingdom can truly come.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been learning this month, that to truly go to the deeper places of God, we must be people of Reckless Abandonment.  There are so many things in this world that are holding us back from the dynamic things of God.  How tightly do I hold on to things, and am I willing to break everything at Jesus' feet in order to follow Him.  As much as I don't want to admit it, abandonment is the message of the Gospel.  Every person that Jesus called to follow him had to completely abandon their old life.  They didn't just have to leave their past mistakes behind, they were even called to abandon the good, God-given things.  This is the place that God has been calling me to this month.  A few days ago, I felt God calling me to abandon even more than I already have.  At first I was resistant.  I kept praying, "God I've given up so much? What else?" And yet he called me deeper.  I began breaking the things that He was asking me at His feet in a sign of submission and abandonment.  Even though it is hard to break the things that you love, it is also the most freeing thing in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited that God loves us enough to challenge us.  That's the thing about abandonment, God doesn't just call us to hard places so that we can suffer – it's because he has so much more good for us!  He wants to shower us with his love, his blessings and his anointing. Sometimes those things can only come when we are at a place of complete brokenness. And the quickest way to brokenness is through abandonment, reckless abandonment. Is God calling you to lay some things down at his feet?  Are you ready to respond in reckless abandonment and completely break the jar instead?  You see, I just keep getting this whisper in my ear that abandonment is the key to blessing. It's the key to a deeper relationship with Jesus. It's the start of a different kind of life – a world changing kind of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So may we have the strength to take our most precious alabaster jar and use it to anoint the precious Lamb of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May we have the courage to hear the Lord's voice as He calls us to deeper places with Him.  And may we have the obedience to walk down that path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May we truly be people of reckless abandonment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6468328630969012594?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6468328630969012594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6468328630969012594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6468328630969012594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6468328630969012594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-got-accepted.html' title='I got accepted!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2130670901355894088</id><published>2009-11-22T18:20:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T20:04:33.025-06:00</updated><title type='text'>thankful.</title><content type='html'>for the Cross. Sacrifice. Forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;God's Word.&lt;br /&gt;His Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;Unconditional Love.&lt;br /&gt;Peace.&lt;br /&gt;family.&lt;br /&gt;amazing friends. old and new.&lt;br /&gt;being loved.&lt;br /&gt;i'm taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;creation.&lt;br /&gt;my mom's cooking.&lt;br /&gt;wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;music.&lt;br /&gt;laughter.&lt;br /&gt;a roof over my head. &lt;br /&gt;a warm bed.&lt;br /&gt;clothes on my back.&lt;br /&gt;ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;conversations.&lt;br /&gt;dishwashers.&lt;br /&gt;snuggling.&lt;br /&gt;my curly hair.&lt;br /&gt;straightener.&lt;br /&gt;breezes.&lt;br /&gt;a nice car.&lt;br /&gt;the McDuffies.&lt;br /&gt;books.&lt;br /&gt;ketchup.&lt;br /&gt;youth.&lt;br /&gt;clean water.&lt;br /&gt;that i'm able to have a cell phone. &lt;br /&gt;and text.&lt;br /&gt;art.&lt;br /&gt;sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;a job.&lt;br /&gt;health. to see. hear. speak. breathe. move.&lt;br /&gt;my heart beats.&lt;br /&gt;freedom to worship. freedom of speech. freedom from sin.&lt;br /&gt;food. and not just the minimum.&lt;br /&gt;prayer.&lt;br /&gt;contacts.&lt;br /&gt;dogs.&lt;br /&gt;camera for memories.&lt;br /&gt;hot showers.&lt;br /&gt;adventure.&lt;br /&gt;kindness.&lt;br /&gt;toothbrush.&lt;br /&gt;abilities.&lt;br /&gt;technology to stay connected.&lt;br /&gt;discernment.&lt;br /&gt;abundance.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas lights.&lt;br /&gt;tears.&lt;br /&gt;caffeine. &lt;br /&gt;hammocks.&lt;br /&gt;chapstick.&lt;br /&gt;rain.&lt;br /&gt;conveniences.&lt;br /&gt;roller coasters.&lt;br /&gt;courage. &lt;br /&gt;and strength from Christ.&lt;br /&gt;ipod.&lt;br /&gt;God works for our good.&lt;br /&gt;an education.&lt;br /&gt;football.&lt;br /&gt;babies.&lt;br /&gt;fresh fruit.&lt;br /&gt;straight teeth.&lt;br /&gt;hugs.&lt;br /&gt;time.&lt;br /&gt;holidays.&lt;br /&gt;generosity.&lt;br /&gt;order.&lt;br /&gt;barbecues.&lt;br /&gt;Church.&lt;br /&gt;rainbows.&lt;br /&gt;yesterday and today.&lt;br /&gt;pb&amp;js.&lt;br /&gt;vacations.&lt;br /&gt;choices.&lt;br /&gt;lazy days.&lt;br /&gt;cures.&lt;br /&gt;God's provision.&lt;br /&gt;Sovereignty.&lt;br /&gt;Truth.&lt;br /&gt;Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2130670901355894088?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2130670901355894088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2130670901355894088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2130670901355894088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2130670901355894088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/11/thankful.html' title='thankful.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2394123887629550734</id><published>2009-11-09T15:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T15:32:04.706-06:00</updated><title type='text'>giants.</title><content type='html'>"A champion named Goliath, who was from Gath, came out of the Philistine camp." 1 Samuel 17:4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What discourages you? What keeps you from being all that you can be? Think about that for a moment. Now ask yourself, “Have I made agreements with my discouragements?” “Have I given up, listened to their lies, and allowed them to ruin my joy and defeat me?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most describe Goliath as a man of huge stature. Over nine feet tall. That’s a giant. But in life giants come in all shapes and sizes. They can even come with a name—Self. Money. Work. Loss. Relationships. You get the picture. And usually they threaten us. Disdain us. Discourage us. Immobilize us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do you slay a giant? I love what Max Lucado said, “Two types of thoughts continually vie for your attention. One proclaims God’s strengths; the other lists your failures.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this—don’t run from your giants. Face them. You’ve got to believe that God is greater than and will strengthen your heart. Find God’s strength. And over time He will give you what you need to overcome. Five small, smooth stones just when you need them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, I want to give you the giants in my life right now. I am tired of focusing on my failures and discouragements and want to listen to Your strengths. To believe You are fighting for and with me. Give the stones I need to slay the giants in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2394123887629550734?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2394123887629550734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2394123887629550734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2394123887629550734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2394123887629550734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/11/giants.html' title='giants.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5918975816095545108</id><published>2009-09-28T21:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T21:34:56.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>he's always been a liar, and he will forever be a liar.</title><content type='html'>we are bombarded with lies, girls. they are everywhere. any where we turn. lies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lies.&lt;br /&gt;lies.&lt;br /&gt;lies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John 8:44 tells us, "The devil... was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him... For he is a liar and the father of lies." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from the beginning of time, as women, we have been believing Satan's lies. when will we stop? when will we start believing our faithful Father? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girls believe lies about love. girls believe lies about trust. we believe lies that cause us to guard our hearts and build walls between us and people. between us and our Heavenly Father. as girls we are sensitive. the world is so fallen and so broken up... lies are easy to believe. we relate everything we have learned from media, from our families, from our friends, from our church... to God. we don't find out for ourselves who He &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satan tells us that everyone leaves. i can't even count the years i have believed that one. i didn't even feel myself believing that, but my actions revealed it. God says "I will never leave you or forsake you." Read about his faithfulness throughout the entire Bible. Remember for yourself, His faithfulness in your own life. He does not leave... through sin, through running, through kicking and screaming, through our unfaithfulness. He stays. He holds onto us. He loves us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought for so long that i had to take care of myself. i had to make sure i was making enough money. i had to do this or do that. i was number 1. i wouldn't let anyone help me. but He says, "Be still and know that I am God." He takes care of the birds of the air. He surely will always provide more than we need. I've honestly been down to pennies, and He has provided. i have been down to my last rope, and He has brought me out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one of the hardest things for me... wearing my heart on my sleeve. i wore it there for so long. slowly but surely i became so hardened because my heart had been crushed so many times, often by the same people. i built up a wall... not allowing love in... and definitely not allowing love to flow out. but the Bible says, "They will know we are Christians by our love." we are free to love because Christ loves us. we are free to love because He is the protector of our hearts. we are free. we can wear our heart on our sleeve, and we will be okay. even if our heart breaks over or for someone... God heals and binds up! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have to stop believing our enemy's lies. they are keeping us from deeper intimacy with our Jesus, and the lies are keeping us from witnessing with love. God calls us to love without return. He calls us to love everyone. He calls us to love those who have hurt us. He calls us to love. &lt;em&gt;trust Him alone&lt;/em&gt;, and you can wear your heart on your sleeve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5918975816095545108?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5918975816095545108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5918975816095545108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5918975816095545108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5918975816095545108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/09/hes-always-been-liar-and-he-will.html' title='he&apos;s always been a liar, and he will forever be a liar.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2563197432708916481</id><published>2009-09-19T19:49:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T19:52:58.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting...</title><content type='html'>steadfastness that is holding on,&lt;br /&gt;patience that is holding back,&lt;br /&gt;expectancy that is holding the face up,&lt;br /&gt;obedience that is holding one's self in readiness to go or do,&lt;br /&gt;listening that is holding quiet and still so as to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how long Lord, must i wait? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...never mind, child. trust Me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2563197432708916481?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2563197432708916481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2563197432708916481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2563197432708916481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2563197432708916481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/09/waiting.html' title='waiting...'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2572520470804913249</id><published>2009-09-14T18:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T18:26:10.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bffs.</title><content type='html'>these are the kind of friends i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;best friends.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;why am i so blessed? &lt;br /&gt;i want to be that kind of friend back. &lt;strong&gt;always.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could barely read this through my wet eyes.&lt;br /&gt;she had no idea how much i needed this.&lt;br /&gt;but God did. He always knows. &lt;br /&gt;perfect timing. &lt;br /&gt;satan has been attacking everything about me.&lt;br /&gt;everything in me. everything out of me. &lt;br /&gt;i have felt like he's running ramped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I was looking through my journal today from about 6 months ago. I found this pr and wanted to pr it over you. &lt;br /&gt;Let Holly rise today through Your strength to pilot her, Your might to uphold her, Your wisdom to guide her, Your eyes to look before her, Your ears to hear her, Your Word to speak FOR her, Your hand to guard her, You in her, You before her, You behind her, You with her, You beneath her, You above her, You on her left, You on her right, You when she lies down, You when she sits down, You when she arises. You in the heart of everyone who thinks of her, You in the mouth of everyone who speaks of her, You in every eye that sees her, You in every ear that hears her, Let her arise today, through a mighty stength, the nvocation of the trinity.&lt;br /&gt;--sara"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2572520470804913249?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2572520470804913249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2572520470804913249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2572520470804913249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2572520470804913249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/09/bffs.html' title='bffs.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3870474466220521933</id><published>2009-08-08T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T23:39:23.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i love music. &lt;br /&gt;especially the acoustic guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::sigh::&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3870474466220521933?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3870474466220521933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3870474466220521933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3870474466220521933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3870474466220521933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-love-music.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2859027715599250640</id><published>2009-08-04T14:06:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:25:04.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>going against the grain.</title><content type='html'>I have had a a lot of opposition lately on my views and convictions especially when it comes to "dating." The more I pray about it the stronger my passion and convictions grown. I've realized that a fully yielded life is not a popular message in modern American Christianity. The idea that everything, including the good dreams and hopes God has given us, must be surrendered back to Jesus Christ is deemed extreme and unnecessary. The concept of trusting God to script our love story in His own perfect timing without manipulation on our part is typically treated ridiculous and naive. Shoeing away mediocre but decent guys in order to wait for a man completely abandoned to God is viewed by many as a recipe for lifelong disappointment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From books and even Christian peers I have read into attitudes of forsaking the misguided idea of waiting on God for a husband; and therefore we should take matters into our own hands to find a husband. Theses ideas are promoted under seeming spirituality. These modern voices contend that we should not accept extended singleness because God created marriage, and it is good. But that is one of Satan's lies that God is withholding something good from us. He never withholds anything good from us, He just knows when it will be perfect. If we are continually taking things into our own hands, then where is our faith in God? Satan also misleads us into disillusionment that we are incomplete until we marry, which is causing Christian young singles to be discontent. They are beginning to see singleness as a curse instead of a blessed opportunity from a loving Father. The blood shed on the cross by our Savior, Jesus, is all we need to be complete and whole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is truly the pattern of the gospel? Christ said, If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brother and sisters, and even his own life also he cannot be my disciple. Paul said he counts everything as loss. David said Whom have I in heaven but You? There is none on earth that I desire besides You. Christ laid down His life. We are to lay down all of our hopes, dreams, desires and pursuits allowing God to script every page of our life's book. Once upon a time Christian men and women understood what it meant to lay down their desires for the sake of Christ, including their desire for marriage and family. Abraham laid his only son Isaac on the altar. They willingly laid their most sacred and priceless blessings on the altar of God. They realized that if He desired for them to be married he would make it clear in his own perfect timing and ways. Why can I not do the same? Why do people say I can't stop looking? Why do people say I have to date? Why can't I just trust God's pattern from the beginning of time? He brought Eve to Adam. Neither of them went searching. He brought Ruth to Boaz' fields. Neither of them went looking. My life isn't about finding my husband. My life is about serving my Lord. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He must always come first and He must always be implicitly trusted. No matter how our selfish fleshly side feels about it, laying everything on the altar before our King and allowing Him to do with our lives whatever He sees fit is where true Christianity begins. Our desire for marriage must be no exception.  We should not fall for the ear tickling lackadaisical messages that require less than absolute abandonment for the one who gave his very life for us. He took up His cross and we must do the same. American Christianity tells us to exalt our emotions and desires above the call of Christ to deny self, lay all our dreams and hopes on the altar, and take up our Cross daily. The message to hurry up and get married already caters to what we want. It’s all about following the whims and desires of our heart. There are so many noisy voices that try to distracted us from our God given desires and convictions. Their ideas have come from the world, and we cannot listen to them. We have to lean upon the strength of God to walk a different path. His path. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God asked His son to embrace the greatest suffering the world has ever known. Hebrews tells us that Christ endured the cross despising the shame. It was not easy and comfortable for Jesus to give up His life. It was not delightful or pleasant. Taking up His cross caused more pain and misery than anyone has ever known or imagined. It was so difficult that the night before He wept exceedingly, sweat drops of blood crying out to His Father if there was any other way. What if Jesus simply listen to His heart, what His human emotions and desires were telling Him that night? Just as Jesus was called to give up His life, so are we. This way is narrow and rocky and causes pain, but it's the very road Jesus walked. May it be our greatest privilege and joy to follow in His steps. No suffering that we embrace in obedience to Christ ever ends in misery and death. That was not Jesus' story, and it will not be ours. God specializes in happily ever afters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2859027715599250640?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2859027715599250640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2859027715599250640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2859027715599250640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2859027715599250640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/08/going-against-grain.html' title='going against the grain.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4921690733505145048</id><published>2009-07-27T20:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:12:27.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Romans 14:22-23</title><content type='html'>"So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But the man who has doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all try to avoid actions forbidden by Scripture, but sometimes Scripture is not always black and white, until the Holy Spirit speaks.. Then we should follow His voice. "Everything that does not come from faith is sin" means that to go against a conviction will leave a person feeling guilty or with an uneasy conscience. When God shows us something is wrong for us, we should avoid it. But we should not look down on other Christians who exercise their freedom in those areas. People have been giving me a hard time lately about my convictions, and I don't know if they believe I look down on them because our convictions differ. That is the furthest from the truth. God has given me such strong convictions in areas because&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I am so very weak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. He revealed to me the distance I need to keep from certain things, and things I need to completely abstain from. I try with all of my heart, and it is not always easy. If I'm asked about my convictions, I discuss my reasoning based on Scripture. I care about others, and I think that sometimes my convictions could be beneficial to them, but God is the only One who changes hearts. With my convictions I'm going to be bold and not timid, but also loving and not condescending.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4921690733505145048?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4921690733505145048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4921690733505145048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4921690733505145048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4921690733505145048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/romans-1422-23.html' title='Romans 14:22-23'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3487416397718354281</id><published>2009-07-26T22:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T22:43:00.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A wife of noble character is her husband's crown (Proverbs 12:4)</title><content type='html'>"A wife of noble character who can find?&lt;br /&gt;She is worth far more than rubies.&lt;br /&gt;Her husband has full confidence in her&lt;br /&gt;and lacks nothing of value.&lt;br /&gt;She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life." &lt;br /&gt;Proverbs 31:10-12&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has been burdening my heart about marriage lately. He's shown me what He desires for me and has asked me to wait. A man worth waiting for is only going to be found by a woman who waits. Last September God asked me to allow Him to write my love story. So I gave over my pen, and in no way do I want to take it back. I love how God teaches us. I can see the blocks He's been building on for the past year. Not only has He been teaching me what His Word says about marriage, He's been teaching me what His Word says about faith. Both are about &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;trust&lt;/span&gt;, one of my greatest struggles. To trust in Him is one of the greatest barometers of spiritual growth. He has been changing my misconceptions about marriage for almost a year now. I have been given so much grace in this area of my life. I am not a wife of noble character. I am not deserving of God's plans for marriage and children. He is way too good in teaching me, and He is way too good in keeping me until the time is right. I do not understand, as always, why me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how He has been Papa in this area of my life. He's making sure I am complete, and I am whole. Like a Father, He's making sure everything is perfect. I've learned that if we don't discover who we are in Christ we will go back and uncover who we were apart from Christ because the flesh always gravitates towards what is familiar and the Spirit toward the unfamiliar. If we try to build intimacy with another person before we have done the hard work of becoming whole on our own in Jesus, then all of our relationship will become an attempt to complete ourself, and that sets us up for failure. Completion is Jesus' responsibility. We were not created to complete one another, but to complement another. It is my privilege! A husband can be a great guy, but he makes for a lousy god. When we look for a man to be anything more than a faithful yet flawed man, we are setting ourselves up for failure. A husband is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; meant to be a woman's source of love, joy, peace, etc. God never intended for a man to be everything I needed-that is an idolatrous mentality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's shown me the difference between expectations and ideals. They are not the same. Ideals are taken from God's Word and are God's standards for men and women. Expectations flow from what we think we deserve in a certain situation. Pride fuels our expectations because pride is an overinflated view of what we think we deserve in life. I have to remember that I am perfectly forgiven; I am not perfect. And the ideal man is neither perfect nor flawless. Jesus was the only flawless man. Therefore, every man has flaws. The difference between one flawed man and another is what he does with his failures. An ideal is a man who is qualified to help me obey God. If he loves me he will help me obey. An ideal a man will be running at the same pace as me in the direction of Jesus. He will allow me to continue in the direction of my life adventure designed by God. He'll allow me to stay in my racing lane, but he'll run with me as an encouragement. He has his own identity, and it is in Christ alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is more concerned with who I am, then who I am with or what job I have, or anything else. My eternal security has to be found underneath the wings of Almighty God before I can ever rest underneath the wings of a godly man. I have to be a woman that is ready and willing to attend to others needs. I have to be strong in biblical character. I have to make trust a daily practice. I have a daily choice to believe truth or exchange it for a lie. I have to be willing to be pliable to be molded into the godly woman God desires me to be. I have to allow God to create in me a submissive heart and spirit. I have to allow God to bring me to the place where Scripture takes root, and I reflect Christ in my marriage. I have to be at a place where I love God and my husband for who they are, not for what they give me. I have to be a wife now who guards her heart, taking all thoughts and motives captive to Christ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A wife of noble character is honored, righteous and morally upstanding. Her husband has full confidence in her. She does him good, not evil, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt;the days of her life. It's beginning to love him now-that is esteeming him more important than me. It's giving him &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; of me. My presence is a gift. My conversation is a gift. My hopes, dreams and fears are a gift. My hugs are a gift. My kisses are a gift. My heart is a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I get made fun of because I give the Sunday School answer, and sometimes I get teased because I take the Word of God to heart. I cannot help my convictions though. I cannot take one part of the Bible and live by it, but not live by another. What God has been teaching me about marriage, I so desperately want to live by because it is His Word, and it's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt;. So, if my relationship with my husband is to reflect my relationship with Christ then I need to consider it sacred too. Now. Not later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3487416397718354281?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3487416397718354281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3487416397718354281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3487416397718354281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3487416397718354281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/wife-of-noble-character-is-her-husbands.html' title='A wife of noble character is her husband&apos;s crown (Proverbs 12:4)'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5677262197407681566</id><published>2009-07-25T21:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T21:59:56.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>grace.</title><content type='html'>i love how God's grace comes in so many forms. &lt;br /&gt;tonight it came in a conversation with one my bff's. &lt;br /&gt;she doesn't even know it. &lt;br /&gt;in sharing life; in being honest... &lt;br /&gt;therein, lies the grace of God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5677262197407681566?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5677262197407681566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5677262197407681566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5677262197407681566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5677262197407681566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/grace.html' title='grace.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7337993942367015517</id><published>2009-07-23T20:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T21:54:50.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Suffering is an unlikely route to joy."</title><content type='html'>I know firsthand: anger and harsh remarks rise from an ailing heart. I struggled for many years with saying mean things and reacting angrily to people and situations, especially those I loved. Job 16:3 says, "What ails you that you keep on arguing?" That broke my heart. I was exactly who I had never wanted to become. Suddenly, I understood the source of the angry overflow: past hurt feelings from abuse, injustice, criticism, and rejection--all of these had been pressing on my heart, and the overflow was pungent. Forgiving so many who hurt me has helped my ailing heart get better and my angry mouth and argumentative attitude have become more and more of a distant memory. The past is not an excuse for our present anger, and it never justifies hurting people in the here and now. James 1:19 tells us to "be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry." Suffering can be a source of anger. Our trials and suffering should escort us deeper into God's heart and Word. We should consider what we might learn through suffering, and what God might want us to unlearn. God showed me a few years ago that when severe pain entered my life, instead of continuing on my journey of faith, I raged in anger toward God and pulled away. Many, if not most, of us do the same at one time or another. Consequently, my faith was shaken. When pain outruns our faith, bitterness enters the soul. I remember reading again a few months ago in an Esther Bible study not to let pain turn into anger. We can be relieved of this when we finally realize the source of all the cynicism that flows into our heart, and when we allow our Redeemer to take it for us. It's about accepting the grace given to us in abundance. It's realizing that we'd rather suffer with God than without Him. In the past few months God has been teaching me a great deal about faith, all different aspects. Faith does not take the pain out of suffering, but faith prevents the infection of despair. A faith-filled person has an unimaginable capacity to face unimaginable suffering. I have learned to let pain pull me toward my Creator and the Cross, rather than away from Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7337993942367015517?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7337993942367015517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7337993942367015517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7337993942367015517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7337993942367015517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/suffering-is-unlikely-route-to-joy.html' title='&quot;Suffering is an unlikely route to joy.&quot;'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3710332588760279030</id><published>2009-07-22T21:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T22:06:46.837-05:00</updated><title type='text'>homesick.</title><content type='html'>i hadn't been to wednesday night youth in a month; i was sick, out of town, in destin too late, out of town again. i can't help but be at church whenever the doors are open. or serving. or reading. or praying. or singing out in my car. i felt so good tonight being there in the presence of God and sharing life with the youth. even in my quiet times sometimes i get so frustrated because i cannot get close enough. there's no place i'd rather be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tonight i feel so homesick. i just want to see You, Jesus. i just want to be with You. Come quickly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3710332588760279030?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3710332588760279030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3710332588760279030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3710332588760279030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3710332588760279030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/homesick.html' title='homesick.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4492900738578914270</id><published>2009-07-21T20:01:00.017-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T22:42:54.474-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love//::verb.</title><content type='html'>//waiting instead of hurrying// &lt;br /&gt;&gt;showing up when there is no time&lt; &lt;br /&gt;::listening rather than talking:: &lt;br /&gt;(forgiving instead of holding a grudge) &lt;br /&gt;**assuming the best** &lt;br /&gt;//choosing kindness rather than anger// &lt;br /&gt;[celebrating instead of envying] &lt;br /&gt;^anticipating needs^ &lt;br /&gt;=choosing to be humble= &lt;br /&gt;&gt;never giving up-continuing till the end&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4492900738578914270?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4492900738578914270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4492900738578914270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4492900738578914270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4492900738578914270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/love.html' title='Love//::verb.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5343055223264485966</id><published>2009-07-20T23:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T23:32:40.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>... because of God's grace, failure is never fatal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5343055223264485966?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5343055223264485966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5343055223264485966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5343055223264485966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5343055223264485966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2715651730225619884</id><published>2009-07-19T21:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T11:32:42.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i know that you are for me</title><content type='html'>So faithful, so constant&lt;br /&gt;So loving and so true, &lt;br /&gt;so powerful in all you do&lt;br /&gt;You fill me, You see me&lt;br /&gt;You know my every move&lt;br /&gt;You love for me to sing to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that you are for me &lt;br /&gt;I know that you are for me&lt;br /&gt;I know that you will never, &lt;br /&gt;forsake me in my weakness&lt;br /&gt;I know that you have come now&lt;br /&gt;Even if to write upon my heart&lt;br /&gt;To remind me who you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So patient, so gracious&lt;br /&gt;So merciful and true, &lt;br /&gt;so wonderul in all you do&lt;br /&gt;You fill me, You see me&lt;br /&gt;You know my every move &lt;br /&gt;You love for me to sing to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that you are for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--kari jobe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2715651730225619884?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2715651730225619884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2715651730225619884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2715651730225619884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2715651730225619884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-know-that-you-are-for-me.html' title='i know that you are for me'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5275972603972851789</id><published>2009-07-18T22:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T22:17:00.452-05:00</updated><title type='text'>preparation.</title><content type='html'>I love God’s preparation. I love how He prepares us for the past, present and future. I love how He prepares us for hurts. I love how He prepares us for quiet times and the reading of His word. I love how He prepares us for beauty. I love how He prepares us for conversation. I love how He prepares us for true love. I love how He prepares us for disappointment. I love how He prepares us for the day. I love how He prepares us for friendships. I love how He prepares us for awkward moments. I love how He prepares us for news. I love how He prepares us for deaths and births.  I love how He prepares us for marriage. I love how He prepares us for trips. I love how He prepares us for Satan’s cunning ways. I love how He prepares us to stand. I love how He prepares our hearts. I love how He prepares our minds. I love how He prepares us for missions. I love how He prepares us for service. I love how He prepares us for challenges. I love how He prepares us for joys. I love how He prepares us to trust. I love how He prepares us to bear fruit. I love how He prepares us to persevere. I love how He prepares us for faith. I love how He prepares us to forgive. I love how He prepares us to be bold. I love how He prepares us to love. I love how He prepares us for Himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5275972603972851789?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5275972603972851789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5275972603972851789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5275972603972851789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5275972603972851789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/preparation.html' title='preparation.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6167782723790709288</id><published>2009-07-17T23:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T23:29:54.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith to sit still.</title><content type='html'>I love the moments where I am in such wonder I have no words to describe God and His goodness. No thesaurus would ever be enough. There are no words great enough to describe His awesomeness and the magnitude of His sovereignty. He is unexplainable. He leaves me in speechless awe. All I want to do is gaze at His throne. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been on a faith journey all of my life. He’s been building, but it has been subtle. Last September, by His grace, real faith started to leak out, and within the past month He has made it explode. I say this so often, but daily life only gets better with God. Every quiet time I have I say, “This is the best quiet time I have ever had!” Well, today, until tomorrow I am going to say, “This is an unsurpassed quiet time!” Today’s quiet time I felt like was 2-fold: I learned more about the seriousness of a covenant, and I learned a different aspect of faith. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was reading in Genesis 27, the account of Jacob receiving Esau’s blessing through trickery. I have read and heard Genesis 27 on numerous occasions, and I have always wondered why couldn’t Isaac just take it back since he had really given it under false conditions. But today I realized that the Hebrews understood blessing to mean much more than Gentiles did (do). I began to understand this through reading also in Joshua. Joshua had made a treaty of peace with the Gibeonites. But he had done so without coming before God first. Often when new situations arise we forget to seek God’s wisdom and guidance first. When we learn the lessons of the past and apply them to today we save ourselves a lot of trouble. But a covenant before God is not to be broken. So, they had given an oath by the Lord. Ancient devout Hebrews never used the name of God haphazardly. So, although in Joshua it was a treaty, and in Genesis it was a blessing, both used the name of the Lord for the binding of the agreement; therefore it could not be revoked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isaac could have begun fretting over what had happened, or He could just trust God. Isaac was commended for his faith. Hebrews 11:20 says, “By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau in regard to the future.” He trusted in God’s sovereignty. I know, probably daily, I mix my faith with fretting. But I believe God sees “fretting faith as faithless fretting.” I do not want to be faithless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another aspect of my quiet time included how Rebekah played a part in all of this. Before Esau and Jacob were ever born, the Lord spoke to Rebekah in Genesis 25 telling her that two nations were in her womb and that they would be divided; the older would serve the younger. But still when Rebekah heard Isaac speaking to Esau about his blessing, Rebekah interfered and told Jacob what to do to deceive his father. “Rebekah appeared to do exactly what we’re prone to do. She volunteered to help God accomplish His will or fulfill His own prophecy.” God surely dealt with Rebekah’s manipulation. “God’s sovereign plans for the future are based on the foreknown. When Isaac grew old and the time came to pass on the blessing, he chose to respect God’s name and sovereignty even though he had been deceived. Isaac knew God well enough to discern when more might be at work than met the eye.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often times in faith, we believe, thus we act. But today I learned what I believe to be the harder facet of faith: when faith requires us to do nothing at all, while our human nature screams to interfere. Therefore, we believe, so we do not act. We gain wisdom in knowing the difference between the two. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus trusted in the sovereign plan of God—by not acting on various occasions. In Matthew 26, when Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss, Jesus had the power to act, but He did not because He knew God’s perfect will. And again in Matthew 27 Jesus had the power to act when He hung on the Cross. Insults and sarcasm were being hurled at Him. He had the power to get down from the Cross and He had the power to call on the name of the Father, yet He did not act. He trusted in God’s absolute plan for Him and for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has shown me even more my need for God’s wisdom and empowerment to trust, wait, sit still and to not act. It is a challenge we cannot accomplish on our own. While praying and reading I was reminded of Matthew 26:41, “The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.” Praise God we have His Spirit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6167782723790709288?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6167782723790709288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6167782723790709288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6167782723790709288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6167782723790709288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/07/faith-sit-still.html' title='Faith to sit still.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3103717766257219345</id><published>2009-06-26T11:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T11:26:24.291-05:00</updated><title type='text'>when the tears fall</title><content type='html'>i've had questions, without answers&lt;br /&gt;i've known sorrow, i have known pain&lt;br /&gt;but theres one thing, that i'll cling to&lt;br /&gt;You are faithful, Jesus Your true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when hope is lost, i'll call You Savior&lt;br /&gt;when pain surrounds, i'll call You Healer&lt;br /&gt;when silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the lone hour, of my sorrow&lt;br /&gt;through the darkest night of my soul&lt;br /&gt;You surround me, and sustain me&lt;br /&gt;my Defender, forever more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when hope is lost, i'll call You Savior&lt;br /&gt;when pain surrounds, i'll call You Healer&lt;br /&gt;when silence falls, You'll be the song within my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will praise You, i will praise You&lt;br /&gt;when the tears fall, still i will sing to You&lt;br /&gt;i will praise You, Jesus praise You&lt;br /&gt;through the suffering still i will sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when the laughter fails to comfort&lt;br /&gt;when my heart aches, Lord are You there?&lt;br /&gt;when confusion is all around&lt;br /&gt;and the darkness is my closest friend&lt;br /&gt;still I will praise You, Jesus praise You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Tim Hughes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3103717766257219345?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3103717766257219345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3103717766257219345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3103717766257219345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3103717766257219345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-tears-fall.html' title='when the tears fall'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8306735339419332178</id><published>2009-06-25T22:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T22:41:33.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A God of Exactness.</title><content type='html'>I love how God gives us always… exactly what we need exactly in the moment we need it. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, and I went before Him today with tears already filling my eyes. When I got to my Bible study book today, Beth Moore had written “This lesson is one I begin with tears stinging my eyes.” My heart just sank. I knew I was about to get a load, but then again such a burden taken off my shoulders also. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FAITH. Why is it that saving faith is typically simple? Then we get to the daily walk, and it gets scary? I read Romans 4 today, and I was sitting there with my head spinning. “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness.” We have one simple step in life—believe Him. He takes care of everything. It’s knowledge, but I want it to be lived out, daily truth in my life. Walking, moving faith. Our faith is what God credits as righteousness. This is monumental for me because I have such unrighteousness in my past. But I have to believe what He says about me now. I’ve asked that I might not ever forget my past for the sake of edifying the body of Christ hopefully through it, but I don’t want to ever dwell on it either. It’s finding a balance of realizing I am a sinner, being humble, but then seeing myself through Christ’s eyes. He definitely sees me completely different than I look at myself. Every day the Cross, whispers that to my soul. He takes my ashes and trades them for His beauty.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it’s all about our hearts. Our faith. Not legalism. Not our acts of righteousness. Isaiah says they are like filthy rags. That’s why Christ has done a complete trade… taking on our unrighteous so we could be given His righteousness. 1Peter 1:7 says that our faith is worth more than gold. So it all comes down to faith. It’s been a major reoccurring theme since September, but God has definitely been bringing it to the forefront lately. I love how He says that He who started a good work in us… will finish it. So I know if He is dealing with me about my “present-active-participle” faith… He’s going to perfect and complete it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8306735339419332178?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8306735339419332178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8306735339419332178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8306735339419332178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8306735339419332178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/06/god-of-exactness.html' title='A God of Exactness.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4183646111471730963</id><published>2009-06-24T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T22:36:12.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh You Bring</title><content type='html'>I love how nothing we do surprises or scares our Savior. There is nothing He can not take care of. There’s nothing He can’t fix. There’s nothing He can’t change. There’s nothing He can’t redeem. And there’s nothing that His blood doesn’t cover. He knew before time our family. He knew before time our circumstances. He knew before time our choices. He knew before time our hearts. He knows our fears. He knows our desires. He knew before time the life He has for us. Nothing ever stops His story for His glory. He knows all of this. He knows what we are lacking. And since He knows… He becomes more than that for us. Hillsong wrote “Oh You Bring,” and I love it because it speaks just that—He is everything we need. He fills every void… &lt;br /&gt;no matter who or what left it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh You bring hope to the hopeless&lt;br /&gt;And Light to those in the darkness &lt;br /&gt;And death to Life—now I’m alive&lt;br /&gt;Oh You give Peace to the restless&lt;br /&gt;And Joy to homes that are broken &lt;br /&gt;I see you now; in You I’m found&lt;br /&gt;And you open the door for me&lt;br /&gt;And you lay down your life to set me free&lt;br /&gt;All that I am will serve you Lord&lt;br /&gt;Oh you fill those who are empty&lt;br /&gt;And rescue those in the valley&lt;br /&gt;And through it all You calm my storm&lt;br /&gt;Oh now You find me in my weakness&lt;br /&gt;And heal the wounds of my heartache&lt;br /&gt;I worship You in Spirit and Truth&lt;br /&gt;And You open the door for me &lt;br /&gt;And You lay down Your Life to set me free&lt;br /&gt;All that I am will serve You Lord, You Lord&lt;br /&gt;And You open my eyes to see all the wonder and all of Christ in me&lt;br /&gt;Jesus you’re everything I need&lt;br /&gt;It’s You I need &lt;br /&gt;You’re all I need&lt;br /&gt;You’re everything&lt;br /&gt;All honor&lt;br /&gt;All glory&lt;br /&gt;All praise to You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a boy once tell me that basically I wasn’t complete because I didn’t grow up with a father. But an earthly father doesn’t complete you. He doesn’t make you who you are whether he is there or whether he is lacking. God knew. He wasn’t troubled by it. I believe He saw it as all the more of an opportunity to be Father to me. He says we will be lacking nothing. I’m grateful because He has taught me who He is as Father, and my reliance on Him is different than a girl with a godly father. I have God THE Father. Yes there are hurts in our life when our family life doesn’t look like God intended, but we don’t choose our family. Those things can’t be helped except for allowing Christ to be all. He heals those hurts. Sin breaks things up and things fall apart, and life doesn’t look like it did in the Garden. But God redeems anything and everything by the power of His blood through death. We have to believe Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4183646111471730963?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4183646111471730963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4183646111471730963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4183646111471730963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4183646111471730963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-you-bring.html' title='Oh You Bring'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8893294378314104616</id><published>2009-05-30T11:43:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T01:19:37.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm supposed to be some statistically challenged family pattern.</title><content type='html'>I thought my future marriage was to be forever ruined. I am probably some sort of horrific statistic--but with God all things are possible. According to Satan, I am now one of his statistics gone wrong because my God has fought major battles for my life. He’s always been for me—not against me. My childhood background should tell of an unsuccessful marriage. It should tell of unhappiness and great strife. Some of my past choices should have led me to a marriage of hardship, heartache. Before time God knew who I was. He knew my family. He knew my past; He knew my future. He knew my heartbreaks. He knew of trouble. He knew my distrust. He knew abuse. He knew I wouldn’t have an earthly father. He knew I’d be an unsightly statistic. But He knew Himself. He knew His love for me. So He brought His own Life and His own Word of beauty to me I’d never see otherwise. I had no physical example of a godly marriage. I had no physical example of a God-fearing man. Christ gave Himself as my example. my Savior. my Father. And my Groom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Beating great odds is God's specialty. It's one way He proves to us that He can do the impossible. Don't accept defeat if what you're standing for is consistent with God's Word and His ways. Persevere, believing God. Ask Him to fight for you to show Himself mighty!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8893294378314104616?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8893294378314104616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8893294378314104616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8893294378314104616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8893294378314104616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-supposed-to-be-some-statistically.html' title='I&apos;m supposed to be some statistically challenged family pattern.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5893805810813596033</id><published>2009-05-29T23:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T11:51:55.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let these words fall fresh... sit stunned.</title><content type='html'>"Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor? Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Romans 11:33-36&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5893805810813596033?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5893805810813596033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5893805810813596033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5893805810813596033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5893805810813596033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/05/let-these-words-fall-fresh-sit-stunned.html' title='Let these words fall fresh... sit stunned.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4739127360004131468</id><published>2009-02-28T22:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T17:11:03.049-06:00</updated><title type='text'>encourage one another</title><content type='html'>One of the greatest things we can do for people is: encourage them! You might not have any idea what is going on in someone's life, and you don't know what a word of encouragement might just do for them! I have had great discouragement about change. But it is so awesome how God is constantly reminding me and confirming it’s Him working in my life, and it’s His voice I hear cheering me on. I just have to keep on obeying. He reminded me a few nights ago that 4 years ago He brought me up out of a lot. He brought me out of sin and messes that I myself chose and caused. He worked slowly in His time changing surface parts of my life. He took the desires that I had for the world, and morphed them into a full blown out passion for His Son. Discouragement comes from Satan, especially when someone is changing. It's not about what the person can do anymore, but what God can do. God said to me, “Beloved, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; changed you years ago. Remember where you came from? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; can change you now. It would have been too much if I would have tried to work out all of this stuff in the depths of your heart, while I was teaching you about the surface things. It’s all in My timing, small steps. I have been preparing you for this hurt and change. It's tough, but don’t worry! We can do this. I am your God, I AM.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4739127360004131468?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4739127360004131468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4739127360004131468' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4739127360004131468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4739127360004131468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/encourage-one-another.html' title='encourage one another'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3510119075991079128</id><published>2009-02-26T15:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T15:51:00.388-06:00</updated><title type='text'>sowing seed</title><content type='html'>I have had seed sown into my life, yet there was so much more that needed to be uprooted. There wasn't enough room for Fruit to be grown. If God had another name He could be the Great Gardener. I don't know if you have ever pulled weeds, but it is one of the worst jobs in the world. My mom despises it, so much of the time I will agree to do it. It hurts your hands after a while especially in our front yard because of the rocks. It makes your hands sore. When Jesus pulled weeds out of my life on the Cross it left marks for all eternity, not just a little ache. Pulling weeds is tricky though. First, you have to pull it out entirely, otherwise the root will cause new growth. And if you pull it out, you have to make sure it stays in the garbage, otherwise it will be blown by the wind only to be planted somewhere else in your yard, or spiritually speaking--your heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been praying for a break through, for change for the past couple of years. I didn't quite understand what I was doing wrong until a message that I heard two years occurred to me: You can't eat the seed and expect a harvest. For way too long I had been eating the seed and quite frankly enjoying it. It was almost too easy. After so much prayer and tears about change, God was like, "Holly, change comes when you decide to sow the seed." I have to be on my knees, sowing the seed by faith in the dirt. It's quite scary to let go of the seed. It can't be seen in the dirt any longer, and there is no sprout the next day. It takes time, water and cultivation. God says I have to sow His word into my situation or circumstances no matter how difficult--then and only then will I see a harvest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psalm 126:5 says, "Those who sow in tears, will reap with shouts of joy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3510119075991079128?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3510119075991079128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3510119075991079128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3510119075991079128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3510119075991079128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/sowing-seed.html' title='sowing seed'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7050071542643767795</id><published>2009-02-25T21:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T21:18:00.994-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"The same Power that conquered the grave lives in me&lt;br /&gt;Your love that rescued the earth lives in me..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Hillsong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, You have been trying to help me grasp this concept. Please do! Ingrain it. Let me live this Truth. It's monumental! I am so ordinary, yet You, the God I live for is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;extraordinary&lt;/span&gt; and living in me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7050071542643767795?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7050071542643767795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7050071542643767795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7050071542643767795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7050071542643767795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/same-power-that-conquered-grave-lives.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5470805305090523523</id><published>2009-02-24T16:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T16:22:00.124-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace</title><content type='html'>I read a book called "Crazy Love" months and months ago. I asked God what Crazy Love was going to look like for me. He has revealed to me so ways, but just today He spoke to me on grace. "Crazy Love" in nutshell was a lot about just pouring out your life radically and giving freely. Not living a lukewarm life, and beginning living outside of this structured Christianity we've grown up with. For months He had been speaking to me about Love because I had never really felt it or gave it. Lately, He's been speaking to me about Love through Grace. I'm 25, and if you could understand how much grace a girl this young has been given you'd probably faint. I pray that I never forget the life I had before God really got a hold of me. We've all been given grace through our Beloved Jesus' death, but I so desperately want to give grace to the level or extend that I have been given it. I know someone who is in serious need of grace right now. But I believe the grace given will help to change me and help me to forgive. Why withhold grace when my sins against God are just as great as this person's sins against me? If you deny grace to people, then you have yet to really understand the concept of grace and what you've been given no matter how righteous you may seem on the outside. My biggest fear in forgiveness and giving grace is the fact that I know at least right now, this person isn't sincere. But then I'm taking God's rightful place on the throne of my own heart. His word says we will be judged by the same cup we've measured out for other people. Therefore, I've been begging Him to help me pour out a whole lot of grace because I've been given a life time's worth of grace if there was such a thing. He wants me to just obey His word, and if they are being artificial or deceitful--God will take care of that. It's not my position. My position is to be humbled before my God and even my enemies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5470805305090523523?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5470805305090523523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5470805305090523523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5470805305090523523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5470805305090523523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/grace.html' title='Grace'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8638945995656251094</id><published>2009-02-23T20:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T20:47:00.878-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Healer, He is.</title><content type='html'>you hold my every moment&lt;br /&gt;you calm my raging seas&lt;br /&gt;you walk with me through fire&lt;br /&gt;and heal all my disease&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i trust in You&lt;br /&gt;i trust in You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i believe You're my healer&lt;br /&gt;i believe you are all i need&lt;br /&gt;i believe you're my portion&lt;br /&gt;i believe you're more than enough for me&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, you're all i need&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing is impossible for you&lt;br /&gt;nothing is impossible&lt;br /&gt;nothing is impossible for you&lt;br /&gt;You hold my world in your hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--hillsong&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8638945995656251094?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8638945995656251094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8638945995656251094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8638945995656251094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8638945995656251094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/healer-he-is.html' title='Healer, He is.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4551305948341715797</id><published>2009-02-22T21:48:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:15:36.487-06:00</updated><title type='text'>4 year olds</title><content type='html'>Today at church, I spent extended session with 4 year olds. At snack time, we had to pray and one little boy Nathan, who I kept calling Alexander, volunteered. Wow! His prayer was outside of a 4 year old's little prayer box. It was adorable and so sincere. Jayde said something to me about Nathan being a preacher one day. So, while eating snack I decided to ask the kids what they wanted to be when they grew up. All day, I have been pondering over these precious, innocent answers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked the first little girl, Olivia, and she said "a princess." My heart skipped a beat, and I thought it was going to stop right then and there. I wanted to hang on to that moment, grab her by her tiny hands and tell her to cling to that dream. I so desperately wanted to be able to tell her not to let go. I wanted to tell her how we can live a fairy tale, be a beautiful princess and have a Prince Charming. I wanted her to know that her daddy can't change that, boys can't change that, her brother can't change that... only she can. She can allow loves of the world to corrupt her dream. It's too easy to lose the grip and let it slip away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was describing the girls' answers to my mom and I said, "All of the girls answers were..." And my mom said, "Girlish?" Then I got stopped and thought "Are they really girlish or are they God-given?" We all dream, boys and girls alike. We all dream of adventure and excitement. Girls dream of being a princess, and boys deep down, dream of being a Prince, a warrior... the hero. They want to save the damsel in distress, and they want to be brave and stand when everyone else is bowing, but the world has taught them otherwise. The world has trained us to give up way too soon. We can all have these God-breathed dreams, but it's all by His power, His strength and His grace to let us live in a world that is seemingly fairy-tale like... or actually maybe more like Heaven on earth. It comes from believing Him, obeying Him, loving Him and letting Him bring to life our hearts desires. It might not be exactly like Disney, but it will be beyond what we could even begin to fathom or imagine. We'd be a fulfilled people. Our God's story would be able to finally shine brilliant in our mere human lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4551305948341715797?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4551305948341715797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4551305948341715797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4551305948341715797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4551305948341715797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/4-year-olds.html' title='4 year olds'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6134897763454120121</id><published>2009-02-22T14:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T21:21:41.557-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM.</title><content type='html'>I'm on my way up out of bondage. I have prayed that I won't ever forget where I have come from. I so desperately want God to use my life for His glorious story. When you're in a bondage of sin, most of the time it becomes a cycle. It's a way of life, and you just don't know how to get out. I have been miserable, and there are people who just don't understand what it's like to be held in the grip of addictive sin. But not everyone in a stronghold of sin is having a good time. I was depressed. I have cried my eyes out in my pillow going "God! What is wrong with me?... Just show me what is wrong with me." I had a heart for God, but what I did not know where the power to break free came from. I thought every time if I was sorry enough I wouldn't go back. What I didn't realize is that I needed some real alone time with God for healing. I didn't seek His Word for healing. I just studied because I was supposed to, and I enjoyed it most of the time. Fortunately, you can not help but have healing and restoration come to your mind when you are saturated in His Word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time, Satan told me I was going to stay where I was forever. When I really started to see me for who I was I had so much discouragement within myself and so much discouragement outside myself. But how could it be believable that a person with this much garbage, this much darkness... could ever be any kind of light? I would mull over who I was and who I wanted to be. Nights were always the worst for me. It was just me and God. There's no pretending to be someone else when you are alone. I couldn't hide anything. Satan kept telling me, "You're stuck. You're not capable of changing. You've tried so many times before and look where you are. You haven't moved. You're staying in the same place. Give up." All of this, and I was so tired of telling the God I love that I was sorry. But He, my Redeemer has refused to give up. He counteracted my every attitude, and every thought about myself and who He is. He first began humbling me, just showing me how to truly repent. And Love. And forgiveness. Softening my heart for His power and deliverance. He revealed to me that nothing is too big for Him. My heart was not too hard for Him. My sins were not too vast for Him. I did not have the one continual, destructive cycle that is too strong for God's Word to break. Nothing like that exists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me, "Baby girl, believe Me. Believe that I can free you. Forever. And don't let anyone tell you any different. I AM WHO I AM."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6134897763454120121?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6134897763454120121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6134897763454120121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6134897763454120121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6134897763454120121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am.html' title='I AM.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8357993959498114189</id><published>2009-02-21T18:53:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:24:18.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>change: alter, exchange, modify, transform, revolutionize, renovation, made new</title><content type='html'>"The single most toxic thing to believe about someone is that they can't change." --Mark Seagle (2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My journals for the past two years begged God to &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;change&lt;/span&gt; me. It's an unexplainable experience... to hate the person you are. There's no peace. No joy. No self-confidence. It's like a different person is dying to get out of your body because of the blood of Christ, yet your normal self... your flesh is eating you and your relationship's alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a choice to live by grace or our flesh. God's grace is the power of the Holy Spirit to allow a change, to do something God can do through you that you could never do by yourself. We have to do what we can do, what God has asked us to do... then God will do what we can't. The desire to change was long in me. I wanted it so desperately I took the task on so many times. Only to fail God, those I love, and myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned the importance of my quiet times years ago. I read the Bible, did studies, etc. The Bible is my mirror. I see what I'm suppose to look like but then what I really look like. I walked around with dirt on my face and never noticed it. I had some real problems and issues with my personality that I didn't like facing. I grew up in a far from perfect home. None really are, but mine did not invite any bit of God into it. It's about as dysfunctional as you can get. You can use your imagination. I followed right into the pattern of my family. So, the first boy I thought really loved me, I let him walk all over me. Pain had piled up for years. I never dealt with it. It started showing it's detestable face, but I didn't have excuses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believed in God and was born-again when I was 7. I didn’t really have anybody to teach or disciple me. I couldn’t live the life I would have like to have lived because I had so much pain. I didn’t even know what to do. I had two lives: who I was in the flesh, and who I so desired to be in the Spirit. My personality was full of fear. I was bold, aggressive, obnoxious because I was afraid of being hurt. I was manipulative, controlling, angry when I didn't get my way. Neither did I trusted anybody nor did I think I needed anybody. I had been praying for years for God to do something in my life. I was an ugly, bitter-filled, unforgiving mess. I didn't know which way was up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prayed, but I also continued to do things that I thought was "right"... things I thought would help. For the longest time, I didn't even realize that anything was wrong with me. When you live the way you do for so many years, it's just you and you don't see what's wrong. People would ask me "what's wrong with you?" But I didn't quite know. I didn't realize I was acting any way. I was just getting up and being me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When God's mirror really started to come to life, I could see the darkness that had taken residence in my heart. I could see hurt I had inflicted on those around me and even more hurt on myself. I began to cry out to God in the most sincere way that I knew how. I quit giving God my bright ideas and told Him to do whatever He wanted because it didn't matter anymore. I had ruined everything that was precious to me. I just had to have Him, healing, joy and restoration. I began to really get into the Word and see God for who He is, and who I am in Him. I started really seeing the mud and muck all over me. I was hard to get along with, angry, selfish, self-centered, depressed, moody, and you didn't know what I was going to be like from one day to the next. I wasn't operating in the Fruit of the Spirit. God's Word really started convicting my heart causing me to fall to my face. I need every quiet time, every message, it didn't matter what it was or is about... my words, prayer, my mind, selfishness, my attitude. I needed and need it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the longest time, I didn’t understand the difference between conviction and condemnation. So, I would hear these things that were convicting me. But I didn’t know it was God convicting me trying to help me. I didn’t know how to go to God and tell Him I agree with these things, You’re right I have no excuse I am like this… please forgive me, please work in my life to change me. Do what ever you have to do but change me PLEASE! I always had a plan on how I was going to change: I would decide I wasn't going to do whatever I was doing wrong anymore. I tried to be sweet. I tried to be merciful. I tried to be more upbeat. I thought I was being obedient and doing the right thing. But when we do stuff in the flesh we do it in extreme measures. I was off balance in one direction with my personality then I swung to the other side, still in the flesh trying to be someone else. God changes us little by little, step by step. It's a process to bring us to His level, balanced out for eternity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me two years and a broken heart to realize that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I can not change myself&lt;/span&gt;. I had to be completely broken, open my hands, quit trying, keep praying and trust God that He was listening to my desperate cries for help. I had to exchange my trying for trusting. The most difficult part is being willing to do what God asks of me when He asks me. Breaking off my engagement was the absolute, single most, hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I had to and have to trust that God's going to do what He says He will do. I had to come to the end of myself and receive God's grace. A lot needed change--I had to pray and obey. I am changed and perfected by Grace, not my flesh.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love 1 Peter 5:10 which says, "And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, Who has called you to His own eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will Himself complete and make you what you ought to be, establish and ground you securely, and strengthen, and settle you." It shows me that when I am convicted with what's wrong with me and I see it, I have to wait on God and I have to trust God that He's working, and I will ultimately see change. But in the mean time I'm suffering because I don’t want to be this way. We suffer because we have to go through that realizing we can not do it ourselves. It is all God and none of us. That's the way He gets all the glory. He doesn't always deliver us, but walks us through. He moves sovereignly on our behalf and shows grace when we cry out. We eventually come to the other side--free. At times I have been frustrated with my background, family life, etc. but God showed me He's my chain breaker and He's preparing me for the future. He revealed to me He can connect with the world through me because of past circumstances. I need to quit questioning why He does things the way He does. I need to jump for joy and fall on my face before the world so that His name and renown will be on display. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. &lt;br /&gt;Grace.&lt;br /&gt;Prayer.&lt;br /&gt;Trusting.&lt;br /&gt;Waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8357993959498114189?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8357993959498114189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8357993959498114189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8357993959498114189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8357993959498114189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/change-alter-exchange-modify-transform.html' title='change: alter, exchange, modify, transform, revolutionize, renovation, made new'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5939597850479965658</id><published>2009-02-20T22:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T23:55:46.604-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Oppression</title><content type='html'>At the beginning of my quiet time today, I didn't really understand where it was going. So, I quickly became fearful that I wasn't going to get anything out of it because God has made my quiet times so fruitful for the past 6 or 7 months. So, I stopped and prayed, "God help my heart to be receptive. I want to listen to You. Teach me. Show me something. I'm all ears and all yours." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading Psalm 129, and it talks about being "oppressed from youth." I could completely relate. These were years I was being shaped, and they led to an oppression addiction. It seemed normal to me, and those were the types of relationships I looked for and was involved in for years. People react to oppression differently. I went through substance abuse, relationships, perfectionism, addictive shopping, shutting down... but with every decision it made me more oppressed &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; depressed. I let anger turn into pain. I mulled over it for years, eventually I just grew calloused and cold. When you are oppressed from youth you let people walk all over you. I did. For years. I inadvertently, went from being oppressed to an oppressor. The oppressed choose one of two ways--they either continue to allow people to walk all over them, or they become the people who walk all over them. I believe my choice was the worst of the two. I'd rather still be hurting then know I hurt someone I dearly love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What became of my quiet time is I learned I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;can &lt;/span&gt; love (especially the people who deserve it) without offering them to walk. I realized I am freed up to forgive and love because according to Isaiah 49:25 my God contends with those who contend with me. He takes what happens to me very personally. He defends us when we return to Him and cry out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 3 of Psalm 129 says, "Plowmen have plowed my back..." Plowed ground is fertile ground. A seed is planted. A tree is grown. Fruit bursts forth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5939597850479965658?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5939597850479965658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5939597850479965658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5939597850479965658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5939597850479965658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/oppression.html' title='Oppression'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5408472597077895600</id><published>2009-02-19T20:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T00:05:00.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>isaiah 55:10-11</title><content type='html'>"As the rain and snow &lt;br /&gt;come down from heaven,&lt;br /&gt;and do not return to it&lt;br /&gt;without watering the earth&lt;br /&gt;and making it bud and flourish,&lt;br /&gt;so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,&lt;br /&gt;so is my word that goes out from my mouth:&lt;br /&gt;It will not return to me empty,&lt;br /&gt;but will accomplish what I desire&lt;br /&gt;and achieve the purpose for which I sent it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I have always loved this verse. Not until recently did I take it in the context of God speaking to me &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; me. He's said, "Beloved, you &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; change. I'm doing it. My word is a seed of change. It &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;has&lt;/span&gt; to bring forth fruit. Keeping reading it, listening to it, confessing it and believe it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5408472597077895600?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5408472597077895600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5408472597077895600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5408472597077895600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5408472597077895600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/isaiah-5510-11.html' title='isaiah 55:10-11'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3930430559564499949</id><published>2009-02-16T20:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T23:27:27.594-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when people try to tell you what you're not... tell them who your God is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3930430559564499949?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3930430559564499949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3930430559564499949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3930430559564499949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3930430559564499949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-people-try-to-tell-you-what-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2044376777150755994</id><published>2009-02-15T22:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T23:23:31.687-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Eating is the new skinny.</title><content type='html'>Sadly, I think most women/girls struggle with their self-image. We measure ourselves against models, actresses, or whoever guys are giving their attention to. We can never seem to become who we think people want us to be or who we, ourselves, think we should be. Regrettably, I spent years trying to be this image I somehow formed in my head. If I wasn’t “that” then I was going to be unloved and/or rejected. Around the age of 18, I took diet pills and worked my butt off to be and stay in shape. That almost-there six-pack is long gone. It said goodbye, thanks to  chocolate chip cookie dough. In seriousness, I started becoming convicted of my behaviors. I had no pure motives for exercising. I was obsessed. My addictive behavior weakened, but my self-image was never dealt with. I still kept “control” by what I ate. I couldn’t even enjoy food. Sounds pathetic, huh? Even when I am thin, I always think I have to be skinnier. I can find something wrong with my body. It’s awful to constantly be unhappy with how you look. I’ve been guilty with letting how I look preoccupy my thoughts. God tells us in His word what we should be thinking on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My self-image/esteem was extremely low for many reasons that I won’t go into right now. But I’ve finally begun to realize the depth of Christ’s love for me. It is beyond the surface. Yes, He created me, and He thinks His creation is beautiful. But He sees His Son and not me anymore. Man looks at the outward appearance, but our God looks at our hearts. And He takes His holy place very seriously. That holy place is now—me…  and you! It’s a place for Him to dwell. Since the Old Testament there have been strict regulations about God’s dwelling place. 1 Cor. 6:19-20 asks, “Didn’t you realize that your body is a sacred place, the place of the Holy Spirit? Don’t you see that you can’t live however you please, squandering what God paid such a high price for? The physical part of you is not some piece of property belonging to the spiritual part of you. God owns the whole works. So let people see God in and through your body.” (The Message) Not to say I grasp all of this, and not to say I’m not going to struggle, but I can sit back and know that God cherishes me, delights in me, loves me, and I am precious to Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know how much I like food until I recently started understanding some of these Truths of who He is and what He thinks about me. ☺ I’m eating fried food, pizza, cookies, brownies, chocolate, sweet tea, etc. Now, I’m not condoning eating whatever you want. Back to our bodies being the temple of God we should be taking care of them. It goes both ways though… we should neither starve ourselves nor should we gorge ourselves either. But we are allowed to eat and enjoy! The other night I was out with a few girls… I ate Krispy Kreme without feeling rotten and guilty! Talk about yummy and an amazing step for me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where do you struggle the most with your body image? Not eating right? Not exercising regularly? Abusing your body with some habitual sin? Constantly comparing your physical appearance to others? Whatever the case, realize that God has redeemed you. Let the Truths about His love for you sink into your every being.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2044376777150755994?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2044376777150755994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2044376777150755994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2044376777150755994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2044376777150755994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/eating-is-new-skinny.html' title='Eating is the new skinny.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6230028479902083794</id><published>2009-02-15T17:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T17:12:05.889-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want to be someone that only God can make me. That's how He gets the glory... when no one else can explain what has happened to me... when &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;He's&lt;/span&gt; totally conspicuous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6230028479902083794?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6230028479902083794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6230028479902083794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6230028479902083794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6230028479902083794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-want-to-be-someone-that-only-god-can.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7509537818706486480</id><published>2009-02-14T23:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T16:36:36.141-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Mine.</title><content type='html'>Valentine's Day. You would think a girl would be completely distraught and devastated on Valentine's Day if she didn't have a boy to take her out, cook her dinner, woo her, or look at her lovingly. Yes, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; crossed my mind, and I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; think about last Valentine's Day because it was the best I had ever had. No one has ever been that genuine, thoughtful and loving with me. It's the first time a boy ever cooked me dinner. I was, am... I don't know... in love. I love him still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, according to some, I should have been in bed all day, weeping, eating gallons of ice cream, reading old love letters, smelling roses I should have bought for myself... I didn't. I slept in, Jesus woke me up, and my face hit the floor. How could I sulk when I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; the greatest Valentine ever! What more could I ask for!? Yesterday before I had to face the world He reminded me of all the Hope wrapped up in Him in Psalm 126. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while ago, I knew God was going to bring a test. I failed miserably. This has been one of the greatest siftings of my life. My sovereign Father has allowed this agonizing process because I had something that needed sifting. I needed something radically extracted from my life. He knew what I didn't. He knew that by the deepest brokenness of my life that He'd forgive me, heal me, and crucify that self-destructive part of me. I read some old journals recently realizing that all of this was answered prayer also. I had been praying the same thing for years. I just didn't know what form the change was going to come in. It came in the form of brokenness. But my Valentine restores life, shattered dreams and broken hearts. Right now, I'm in between a "good time remembered and another good time hoped for." In this Psalm God had done something so undeserved for the Israelites they felt like it was just too good to be true. They were filled with joy and laughter. They had seen the wonders of God, and they wanted Him to do it again! All of my eggs are in His basket... Do it again! The next part of the Psalm is my favorite because He gives us a conditional promise... "Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy." My Hope resides in Him. My joy comes from Him. He's the source of my laughter. Happiness will come and go, but my God remains. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's constant. &lt;br /&gt;I'm unmoved. &lt;br /&gt;I have something to look forward to. &lt;br /&gt;Forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7509537818706486480?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7509537818706486480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7509537818706486480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7509537818706486480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7509537818706486480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/be-mine.html' title='Be Mine.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-1233796362918057014</id><published>2009-02-12T21:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T22:03:52.842-06:00</updated><title type='text'>vital to life.</title><content type='html'>Spending time in God's Word should be pure bliss! I find myself so desperate for it. Sometimes I am searching for answers, and sometimes I just want to hear His voice audibly. He has put a love in my heart for him, that most of the time I just want to spend time with Him like any other BFF. But no matter what, every day He gives me some kind of word. He gives me new insight, new wisdom, new love... not always an answer, but something. Today I had a discussion with my mentor about "quiet times," and I've been reading a book about hearing from God. Our time spent in prayer and reading God's Word is VITAL to our life. VITAL to decisions. VITAL to our character. VITAL to our present and future. VITAL to doing God's Will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MISTAKE: People think they can hear God clearly without spending time with Him in His Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we listen for God's voice without being dedicated to spending time we set ourselves up for hearing voices that are not from God. Knowing His written Word protects us from deception. Trying to hear from God without reading His Word is irresponsible and dangerous. There are many evil spirits ready to whisper lies to a listening ear. Satan presents wild ideas to us that make sense to us, but just because something seems logical to us doesn't necessarily mean it is from God. An idea can feel good to our emotions but fail to give us peace when it isn't in line with God's Word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening for God's voice is just as important. We have to be able to get still and stop talking. If we are too busy to get into God's Word daily, then we are too busy, period. Our lives are so demanding we lose sight of Who God is and where He wants to take us. There is great peril in not spending time with God on a daily bases. When we are not in His Word we slip away quietly but quickly. Our convictions become diminished without even recognizing what happened. Satan is sly. During trial he puts bait (our weaknesses) in front of our face. As soon as we bite... our time with God fades. Then our choices change. Our character changes. Before we know it we are in a pit. Many of times Satan does his best to keep us there... with guilt. We can't stay on God's path without DAILY time in His Word. We are in a battle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-1233796362918057014?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/1233796362918057014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=1233796362918057014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1233796362918057014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1233796362918057014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/vital-to-life.html' title='vital to life.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3796973534313277859</id><published>2009-02-11T21:10:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T22:17:11.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty in a world of disillusionment and pain</title><content type='html'>I have found Love that has stared me in the eye and dared me to face the pain, so as to gain the prize on the other side. He said, "Don't let disappointment break you. It's a storm that has to be traveled through. Don't run away. Don't use rationalization. Don't run to someone or something. Let Me heal you. Be still. Be patient. Wait. Don't lose your Hope. Don't lose the dreams I've given you. Those are promises. My beloved, don't stop living for something beautiful and settle for something mediocre. That is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; My Will."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3796973534313277859?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3796973534313277859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3796973534313277859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3796973534313277859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3796973534313277859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/beauty-in-world-of-disillusionment-and.html' title='Beauty in a world of disillusionment and pain'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5420015692716029656</id><published>2009-02-09T20:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T22:45:19.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>it's okay to forget your deodorant</title><content type='html'>I didn't know that perfectionism can turn into sin. I am a perfectionist. Was. I used to think that everything had to be perfect, just right. But I've learned that it doesn't. I should be honoring God in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; that I do. But it is not God honoring when I obsess over small things and make mountains out of mole hills. It's okay when something is forgotten that was supposed to be done. It's okay that all the laundry doesn't get finished. It's okay that my hair is messed up, or I don't really match. It's okay when things aren't cut out perfectly. It's okay when I burn dinner. It's okay when I don't get my way. That is selfish anyhow. Spilled milk doesn't need to be cried about. Sometimes it's okay when I'm late. God has revealed so many silly things to me saying, "It's okay. Nothing to be upset about. That's a minor detail." I am suppose to honor Him in everything, and I should do everything to the best of my ability. But that doesn't mean expect everyone to be perfect all the time. I'm setting myself up for disappointment. It's okay for others to disappoint me. They are human and sin-filled. God should be my satisfaction. He doesn't disappoint. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying dishes should pile up to the ceiling, but sometimes there are more important things in life... like our family and friends, talking... just being together. Maybe we need to spend more time in prayer or God's Word. We shouldn't necessarily procrastinate in life's responsibilities, but building relationships is more important than lists we need to check off and things we need to get done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a difference in God's holy perfection and worldly perfectionism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5420015692716029656?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5420015692716029656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5420015692716029656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5420015692716029656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5420015692716029656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-okay-to-forget-your-deodorant.html' title='it&apos;s okay to forget your deodorant'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-3903661744697636258</id><published>2009-02-06T22:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T22:29:00.551-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Southern Belle</title><content type='html'>Southern Belles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently got a couple of exceptionally cute t-shirts from Southern Belle. Unfortunately, they sell Christian and non-Christian t-shirts. I don’t agree with some of the “Southern Belle” sayings, except for the ones like “Some days aren’t worth the makeup!” The t-shirts I got are Truths of God or Bible verses. So adorable! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I had to do some "Southern belle" research to see how my previous ideas corresponded with today's modern view of a southern belle; thus, coming up with a twist on the version of the word. The word is derived from the French belle, meaning beautiful. It’s an “archetype for a young woman of the American Old South’s antebellum upper class.” “A Southern belle epitomized Southern hospitality, cultivation of beauty and a flirtatious yet chaste demeanor.” They are not “a symbol of repressed, corseted young women.” The classic Southern belle has an influential and inspirational attraction for people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Southern belle” has such a charming ring to it. When I think Southern belle, I think of femininity at it’s finest. I think femininity as God intended. A girl’s desire to be beautiful is innate. Unfortunately, many of us who could be Southern Belles are desperate, lonely, insecure, and hopeless. We are plagued by eating disorders, abusive relationships, emotional breakdowns and sexual chaos. The new definition of a Southern bell should be a sparkling, vibrant, world-altering Christ-like version of femininity. Tenderly Jesus has opened my eyes to see how far from a Southern belle I was living. He has shown me a glorious pattern for my life that He wants—His pattern. A Southern belle separates her life from the pollution of the world. She’s in the world but not of it. She worships her Father with every breath she takes. We were created to shine with heavenly beauty, to radiate with Christ-like femininity loveliness, and to sparkle with the lily-white purity of Him. A Southern belle allows Jesus to deliver her, heal her, restore her, capture her, empower her, and transform her. A Southern belle lets Jesus occupy every waking thought, action, attitude, word and decision. A Southern belle is virtuous; she shows strength, might, valor, and power. A Southern belle seeks to live an existence that glorifies her Savior in the highest ways. She is called to live an existence that other women would never attempt! A Southern belle realizes that her pretty face and striking personality aren’t really stunning apart from Jesus Christ. She does not possess anything gorgeous or worthwhile in and of herself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Southern belle comes humbled before her Savior at the cross unworthy with her dirty soul. Defiled and tainted. But with hope that He alone can make her life worthwhile! She embraces her unworthiness and acknowledges that she has no hope outside of the redeeming power of Jesus Christ. That is when her deliverance and freedom come! A Southern belle desires that her outward beauty only be a reflection of her inner life. A Southern belle asks God to reveal selfish patterns in her life. She asks forgiveness and to be remade in each of those areas...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-3903661744697636258?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/3903661744697636258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=3903661744697636258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3903661744697636258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/3903661744697636258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/southern-belle.html' title='A Southern Belle'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4829892111890064456</id><published>2009-02-06T19:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T19:08:00.312-06:00</updated><title type='text'>none but Jesus</title><content type='html'>In the quiet, in the stillness&lt;br /&gt;I know that You are God&lt;br /&gt;In the secret of Your presence&lt;br /&gt;I know there I am restored&lt;br /&gt;When You call I won't refuse&lt;br /&gt;Each new day again I'll choose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no one else for me&lt;br /&gt;None but Jesus&lt;br /&gt;Crucified to set me free&lt;br /&gt;Now I live to bring Him praise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the chaos, in confusion&lt;br /&gt;I know You're Sovereign still&lt;br /&gt;In the moment of my weakness&lt;br /&gt;You give me grace to do Your will&lt;br /&gt;When You call I won't delay&lt;br /&gt;This my song through all my days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my delight is in You Lord&lt;br /&gt;All of my hope, all of my strength&lt;br /&gt;All my delight is in You Lord forevermore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Hillsong&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4829892111890064456?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4829892111890064456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4829892111890064456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4829892111890064456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4829892111890064456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/none-but-jesus.html' title='none but Jesus'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5757964739936711108</id><published>2009-02-05T07:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T07:28:00.934-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Throw off everything that hinders...</title><content type='html'>“So everything that doesn't fit into some stupid idea of what you think God wants, you just try to hide or fix or get rid of? I mean it's just all too much to live up to. No one fits in 100 percent of the time... Why would God make us all so different if he wanted us to be the same?”—Saved &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This idea crushes my heart because I’m afraid way too many Christians view life like this. This quote is taken from a movie that mocks everything we stand for. I burst into tears when I found out they run over a statue of my Jesus in the movie. How can they? The One who redeemed. The One who was beat. The One who bled, was mocked, who hung, who suffocated. Who died for my sins. Who saved my life now and forever. How could a young Christian not only watch this, but also quote it?  It makes me angry and breaks my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can know what God wants and desires of us. It’s His Word written to us. We shouldn’t hide things, but we want them exposed to the Light. We are supposed to fix and get rid of things, constantly… every day… being ever changing. All parts of our lives have to fit into what God wants. We don’t fit “100 percent” of the time, but it’s not about us anymore. It’s about Him who saved us. It’s about His Spirit living in us. It’s about His righteousness. His glory. His renown. He did make us all different. We have different looks, personalities, talents, skills, earthly dreams and goals. But we all have ONE God, and we are supposed to look the same because we are supposed to look like Him. He created us ALL in His image. Jesus made it clear to His disciples that if they would come away with Him, they must first forgo their personal life agendas, say goodbye to all that they prize and are comforted by in this life, and then and only then follow Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should be willing to give up anything and everything to follow Him. We should want to live our life with our Prince that is utterly different from the world around us. We should desire to be radiant and confident. We should long to be fulfilled by Jesus, alone. We should yearn to possess a truly authentic beauty that flows from within. We should be world changers. We should want to be set apart in complete and utter devotion to our Prince. I know I want to stand out from among other young women like a lily among thorns, no matter what it means I have to “fix” or “get rid of.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, make me a set-apart young woman who allows our passionate intimacy that I experience with You to completely transform every area of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5757964739936711108?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5757964739936711108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5757964739936711108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5757964739936711108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5757964739936711108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/throw-off-everything-that-hinders.html' title='Throw off everything that hinders...'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6089608786216010666</id><published>2009-02-04T20:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T20:41:11.251-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chains</title><content type='html'>The theme of my life thus far: Bondage and Captivity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long I had plunged into depression; therefore, keeping pain buried under the surface for as long as I possibly could. All my princess like desires and femininity had been destroyed. My desire for so long has been to go from captivity to captivating. Even though I sang, “My chains are gone… I’ve been set free,” I had no idea what true freedom meant. He saved me for eternity, but I hadn’t let go of the past. It kept me imprisoned with heavy chains bound to my hands and feet. I wasn’t able to love and serve effectively. He loved me in spite of my ugly, wretched condition. He took the filthy rags I was clothed in giving me a sparkling gown for a beautiful princess.  He washed my life clean from sin and transformed me into His daughter… the daughter of a King. His amazing love has finally revived my shattered, wounded, bleeding heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a difference between saying I know Jesus Christ and experiencing Him as my True Prince, my Hero, and the One I give up everything just to be with. I have this great longing for Him. It’s like I’d never survive otherwise. So many of us, though we claim we know Jesus, are still longing for our deepest desires to be fulfilled by someone else. We frantically seek out the man of our dreams, when He’s standing right in front of us all this time… patiently waiting. (Boys do this too!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s the lover of our souls. Our True Prince. The One we have been longing for, searching for, and dreaming of since childhood. The One who will love us the way no one else can love us; the One who will cherish us forever; the One who will transform us from hopeless girls in rags into beautiful, confident, radiant princesses. He is the One who makes us ready for true, lasting, human love. And He is the One who meets our deepest needs when human love falls apart. That’s when the stunning things from God come together. He brings the beauty inside and out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else. We can’t do it. No one can do it for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s Jesus, shining and reigning in us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6089608786216010666?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6089608786216010666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6089608786216010666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6089608786216010666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6089608786216010666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/chains.html' title='Chains'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8702971837517014930</id><published>2009-02-03T21:06:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T21:33:17.966-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Orbit doesn't clean your mouth, Christ cleans your heart.</title><content type='html'>"You have minds like a snake pit! How do you suppose what you say is worth anything when you are so foul-minded? It's your heart, not the dictionary, which gives meaning to your words. A good person produces good deeds and words season after season. An evil person is a blight on the orchard. Let me tell you something: Every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you. There will be a time of Reckoning. Words are powerful; take them seriously. Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation."&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 12:34-36 (The Message)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to us being set-apart in speech? Jesus gave so many warnings about how we are supposed to talk. How do Christians go about their daily lives sounding like the world? I don’t understand. Our mouth is supposed to speak Truth. How can we claim Christ in one breath then in the next, curse? When did it become okay? It’s like it’s okay to say words that stand for other words, such as using B. instead of saying the entire word. People talk dirty. They use words like ho, and d---, so  lightly. Ephesians 5:4 reminds us, "Dirty stories, foul talk and coarse jokes—these are not for you. Instead remind each other of God's goodness and be thankful!" Improper language should have no place in Christian conversation because it does not reflect God’s gracious presence in us. How can we praise God then speak vulgarly? Our words should please God, Psalm 19:14 says, "May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Our words are important because we represent Christ. Colossians 4:6 says, “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.” Jesus, our Savior died for our foul mouths. Filthy talk hung Him on the Cross. It only took one word. Think about the speech that was hurled at Him. Is that much different than what we say when it doesn't glorify Him? Our words are to be encouraging. Uplifting. Kind. Pure. Right. True. Loving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words we speak should not give mixed messages to others, but only messages that are consistent with who we say we are--followers of Christ.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8702971837517014930?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8702971837517014930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8702971837517014930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8702971837517014930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8702971837517014930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/orbit-doesn.html' title='Orbit doesn&apos;t clean your mouth, Christ cleans your heart.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-474292235746422335</id><published>2009-02-03T07:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T07:22:01.512-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A King. Humility. and a Cross. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who but our God?... there's none like You, and no one else for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my heart belongs to You. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please reign in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-474292235746422335?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/474292235746422335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=474292235746422335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/474292235746422335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/474292235746422335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/king.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2077358427738418181</id><published>2009-02-02T20:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:00:47.802-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love.</title><content type='html'>God can reveal Himself through anything and anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my brother came home extremely upset. He is being made fun of on the bus. That is an understatement, but the gist of what is happening. For the first time in my life God sat me down and helped me to be able to just listen to someone hurting. There is so much damage inside people and most of the time it isn’t even visible. We carry it around day to day trying to block it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A past friend and my brother remind me so much of one another. I think he was still carrying around hurt from the past (high school) when I started dating him, whether he acted like it bothered him or not. I don’t think it was ever fully dealt with. God had put me in a great position to partner with Him to help heal him. I had ultimate Love to offer him because of Christ and through Christ. But I hoarded it. I didn’t give any part of myself away in fear of being hurt or eventually rejected. I didn’t love because I was looking inward at my own pain and the possibility of there one day being more. I had a noble opportunity. I let it slip away. I am selfish. God had a plan. I took it into my own dirty hands.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God fills us only to be depleted. It’s why we’re here. It’s what we do. We give of ourselves. We meet others needs. We are to regard one another as better than ourselves. It’s listening. It’s caring. It’s encouraging. It’s holding. It’s sitting with. It’s crying. It’s empathy. It’s compassion. It’s praying for. It’s Love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t believe it took me 2 years of desperately wanting to love someone to understand what it really means, looks like and feels like.  My charge is to Love others because God first loved me and will continue to love me. I rely on him to meet my needs, carry me through, love me… so I can focus on others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why 25 years, God, to catch this? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can Love go back and restore? Can I go back and do what I wanted but didn't? Can they let me try to love them your way, Jesus?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2077358427738418181?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2077358427738418181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2077358427738418181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2077358427738418181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2077358427738418181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/love.html' title='Love.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5580953275349259332</id><published>2009-02-02T11:38:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T12:48:45.010-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Will my scars forever ruin all of God's plans?</title><content type='html'>God's divine design was for baby girls and boys to grow up with both their mommy and daddy. Unfortunately, in our shattered world families are broken up and torn apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God gave us the His pattern in Genesis 2:24, "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man would leave his father and mother and take a wife. They would be fruitful and multiply. The children would benefit from both parents, as each one would bring different and necessary facets to the child's life. This was the pattern, the divine design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is power in a father. He brings something to the family relationship that only he can bring because God created him in that role. And when he's missing little girls fill that void with anyone and everything because they desire for the pain to go away. When we let anger at our fathers turn to pain... we just transfer it to others that we love. We begin to ruin our God given, blessed relationships. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God didn't want there to be a missing link in our family, but sometimes He allows it. I'm learning that I can be thankful because although I let Satan rule my hurt, God has taken it over to transform it. He can use my brokenness. He can redeem pain and transform it into something strong, solid, and powerful. I have to be willing to let it go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how unbelievers without fathers make it. I'm weak to begin with, so I don't know what I would do without Christ. As Christians we have to learn to be patient letting God fill our hearts. But what does a non-Christian do? That's heartbreaking. I'm not sure why God chose to fill me up with himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hardest thing for me to understand right now is the reasons God allowed me to grow up without a father, or with the abusive one I had. And especially because He gave me the man of His and my dreams before I was ready... knowing that I wasn't going to wait on His timing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned that long before a girl finds her first real boyfriend or falls in love, her attitude toward men has been shaped quietly by her father. Why? Because the father-daughter relationship sets the stage for all future romantic involvements. If a young woman's father rejects her, she'll spend her life trying to find a man who can meet the needs he never fulfilled in her heart. If he rejects her as unattractive and uninteresting, she's likely to carry self-image problems into her adult years. If he was overbearing, uncaring, or capricious during her developmental years, she may disrespect her husband and question his judgment. That &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a fear, bondage, baggage, pure captivity for me. Satan told me that I couldn't ever have a marriage God intended because of my family life. I lived my last relationship believing his lies; therefore, ruining all good that God wanted to create and give. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good father will leave his imprint on a daughter's heart for the rest of her life, but not every girl has that. So, all I know is my Great Father has nail scared imprints on his hands for the rest of eternity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to let God change my image and ideas of fathers, so I can learn to trust my husband and see myself differently. Girls can see their fathers in a positive light also, which effects them positively. I'm never going to have a "good" earthly father to learn from. But look WHO I get to, Jesus himself. Can it get any better?... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When fathers are warm and nurturing, girls look for a lover to equal him. If he thinks she's beautiful and feminine, she'll be inclined to see herself that way. If a father blended love and discipline in a way that conveyed strength, she may be more comfortable with a give-and-take marriage characterized by mutual respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get to be loved by our Heavenly Father, King of kings and Lord of lords. I get to see what a father/daughter and marriage relationship looks like according to Him who created both! He's making it unhindered by my past! He's giving me new eyes and a new heart to carry all of this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought my scars were going to forever ruin His plans. But I am a new creation, and He doesn't even see me with scars. He sees me as His princess, who He's changing, not letting go of, and planning for at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's always Hope and Light because of Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5580953275349259332?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5580953275349259332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5580953275349259332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5580953275349259332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5580953275349259332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/will-my-scars-forever-ruin-all-of-gods.html' title='Will my scars forever ruin all of God&apos;s plans?'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7500412552034699283</id><published>2009-02-01T13:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:03:09.795-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25</title><content type='html'>I have held on so tight to my plans. I was so scared to trust what God had planned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 25 and not where I thought I would be just a few years ago when I wrote on my birthday. Just a couple months ago I let go of a lot of things. I let go of the past. My hurt. John. My plans. My insecurities. I wasn't the person God or I desired me to be. It kills you when you're hurting people you love. It's ugliness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years ago God was working on facets of my life that needed to be changed. I prayed forever that He would begin working on the depths of my heart. I prayed that He would help me to begin to really and truly learn to love. He's faithful to answer. It took a heart-wrenching break up to begin the healing process though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's working in me. He's uprooting all that doesn't belong in a heart that is His. He's preparing me for tomorrow. For September. For next year. For 2 years later. He's preparing me for what He has for me because He never lets go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7500412552034699283?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7500412552034699283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7500412552034699283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7500412552034699283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7500412552034699283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/02/25.html' title='25'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7044633049070231650</id><published>2009-01-31T08:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T08:12:01.048-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I’ve denied Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve cheated on Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve spit on Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve drug His name through the mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve questioned Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve ran from Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve hid from Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve said no to Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been angry with Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never said I’m through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never said I’m done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never said I can’t handle you anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never let me go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never been unfaithful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never given up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never hid His face from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never broken my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’s never stopped loving me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I’m in love with Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7044633049070231650?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7044633049070231650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7044633049070231650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7044633049070231650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7044633049070231650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-denied-him.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-9174045922446433934</id><published>2009-01-30T19:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T19:38:45.962-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the unlovable.</title><content type='html'>The unlovable are human. The unlovable are broken. The unlovable are anguished-filled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unlovable are unable to satisfy their deepest need—to be loved. Unconditionally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unlovable search. The unlovable settle. The unlovable give their heart away. The unlovable accept cheap love. Distorted love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unlovable are malicious.  The unlovable are selfish. The unlovable are filled with rage. The unlovable have anger ripping out their insides. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unlovable are sick. The unlovable are helpless. Defenseless. The unlovable are weak. The unlovable are miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unlovable have a lost love in their childhood. They’ve been abused. They’re missing something. The unlovable feel shame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a recovering unlovable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never understood real joy. Constant joy. I had “mountain top” Christian experiences. I don’t doubt my salvation at the age of 7. I believed and had a relationship with Christ, but it was through a thick piece of glass. I could always see Him, but never touch Him. I knew God loved me because of the Cross, but I never allowed him to love on me. And when you don’t feel loved… you have nothing to give. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can someone go a quarter of their life without realizing how completely in love the Creator of the Universe is with them? Until you’ve been there it’s incomprehensible. I loved Christ. I desperately wanted to please Him. I wanted my life to glorify Him. I wanted to shine. But nothing I did or tried to do was worth anything. It did not have love. Love has to be the driving passion of all we do. I’ve learned this in heart-wrenching ways. I can’t even say that I grasp a 1/millionth of what He’s teaching me. But I know I’m loved. And His love is never ceasing. I find it irresistible how He shows moment by moment Love.  It’s constant. It’s faithful. It’s unconditional. Never failing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my Savior, I know an unlovable, even me, can become lovable and loving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-9174045922446433934?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/9174045922446433934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=9174045922446433934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/9174045922446433934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/9174045922446433934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/unlovable.html' title='the unlovable.'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-9157454960140194267</id><published>2009-01-29T19:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T19:37:51.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fearless</title><content type='html'>FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death because your hope is in Christ. FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you’ve been hurt before. FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again… even though every time you’ve tried before, you’ve lost. FEARLESS is having faith that someday things will change. When someone apologizes to you enough for things they’ll never stop doing, I think it’s FEARLESS to keep forgiving them. FEARLESS is being able to let go of your best friends and trust them to God’s plan. Letting God is FEARLESS. Patience is FEARLESS. I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS. Allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is FEARLESS. Being all right is FEARLESS. Having the courage to say goodbye to people is FEARLESS, even when you feel like you can’t breathe without them. Praying with the belief that God is answering is FEARLESS. No matter what love throws at you, keep believing—that’s FEARLESS.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is FEARLESS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfect LOVE casts our fear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-9157454960140194267?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/9157454960140194267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=9157454960140194267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/9157454960140194267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/9157454960140194267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/fearless-is-living-in-spite-of-those.html' title='Fearless'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-8221714271526027607</id><published>2009-01-27T19:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T19:34:54.690-06:00</updated><title type='text'>our enemy is real</title><content type='html'>The enemy has come to steal, kill, and destroy. Why is it that we are so easily blinded to his schemes? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By God’s grace he has revealed to me my weaknesses. And He is continually helping me overcome. We have to be humbled by God to admit our weakness… especially when they become a stronghold in our life. Nothing can break a stronghold. Not a person, not ourselves, not a thing, not a dream, not even a hope. Not even when we so desperately want it to be broken. It’s completely by the grace and power of Jesus Christ. &lt;br /&gt;Satan kicks us when we’re down. He gets to us because he knows our weaknesses. As soon as we’re obeying God, Satan comes… to steal our joy, kill our dreams, and destroy our lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can make one wrong move and it affect the rest of our life. God blesses us if we return to him after we have been deceived. But there are still consequences to every decision made. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the great deceiver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-8221714271526027607?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/8221714271526027607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=8221714271526027607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8221714271526027607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/8221714271526027607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/our-enemy-is-real.html' title='our enemy is real'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4792431521267974801</id><published>2009-01-26T21:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T22:05:43.751-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pain</title><content type='html'>Satan uses pain, I believe, as one of his greatest tools. He makes us stare into the mirror with all of our hurt and sadness. Then we unload it on the only ones we love. The ones we really don't want to hurt. We gawk at our wounds....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather than gazing into the eyes of our Healer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain blurs our vision. Satan uses our pain so the only person we're looking at is ourselves. We lose track of where God was taking us. And what He was doing with, in and through us. Satan doesn't want us to see our Healer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain makes us run to places we shouldn't. We run to people. We rush to drugs. We hurry to anything that can make us smile momentarily. It seems to ease the pain. The anguish in our heart subsides for a short while. But when the moment is gone, the hurt is still there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain makes us callous. Our wounds try to heal themselves. We become calloused to Joy. Calloused to Truth. Calloused to Love. Our Healer leaves no scars. He only leaves the mark of His life within us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shattered hearts.&lt;br /&gt;Dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Wounds that were made by those we love. &lt;br /&gt;Scrapes from being pushed down. &lt;br /&gt;Cuts from our past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't be healed until we admit our disease. We can't be healed until we're totally broken and surrendered. We can't be healed except by Him. Jesus. The Healer. Restorer. Our Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4792431521267974801?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4792431521267974801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4792431521267974801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4792431521267974801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4792431521267974801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/satan-uses-pain-i-believe-as-one-of-his.html' title='Pain'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-1007052524666516825</id><published>2009-01-25T20:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T22:04:37.618-06:00</updated><title type='text'>&lt;3</title><content type='html'>i have to &lt;em&gt;choose &lt;/em&gt;to love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-1007052524666516825?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/1007052524666516825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=1007052524666516825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1007052524666516825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1007052524666516825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/3.html' title='&lt;3'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4395803675673640779</id><published>2009-01-23T20:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T20:33:42.912-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Jesus-- be my obsession.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4395803675673640779?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4395803675673640779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4395803675673640779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4395803675673640779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4395803675673640779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/jesus-be-my-obsession.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-492233463001317104</id><published>2009-01-22T21:33:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:10:49.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sara</title><content type='html'>Something brought you to my mind today &lt;br /&gt;i thought about the funny ways you make me laugh &lt;br /&gt;And yet i feel like it's okay to cry with you &lt;br /&gt;something about just being with you &lt;br /&gt;when i leave i feel like i've been near God &lt;br /&gt;And that's the way it ought to be &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause you've been more than a friend to me &lt;br /&gt;you fight off my enemies &lt;br /&gt;cause you've spoken the Truth over my life &lt;br /&gt;and you'll never know what it means to me &lt;br /&gt;just to know you've been on your knees for me &lt;br /&gt;oh, you have blessed my life &lt;br /&gt;More than you'll ever know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you had faith, when i had none &lt;br /&gt;you prayed God would bring me a brand new song &lt;br /&gt;when i didn't think i could find the strength to sing &lt;br /&gt;and all the while i'm hoping that i'll &lt;br /&gt;do the kind of praying for you that you've done for me &lt;br /&gt;and that's the way it ought to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you have carried me &lt;br /&gt;you have taken upon a burden that wasn't your own &lt;br /&gt;and may the blessing return to you &lt;br /&gt;a hundredfold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---Watermark&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-492233463001317104?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/492233463001317104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=492233463001317104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/492233463001317104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/492233463001317104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/john-and-sara.html' title='Sara'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6227140150153486774</id><published>2009-01-18T17:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T17:16:40.288-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i've realized that in the quietest moments of my soul... during unplanned prayer... during true worship... when i begin to lose myself... God is there... listening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some of my greatest answered prayers haven't necessarily been when i was on my face, but in moments of weakness and desperation. in the moments i realized i need Him and only Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6227140150153486774?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6227140150153486774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6227140150153486774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6227140150153486774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6227140150153486774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-realized-that-in-quietest-moments.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5260764778701629592</id><published>2009-01-17T15:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T18:14:43.114-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Prayer Tea</title><content type='html'>I went to a Muslim womens prayer tea today. I have never been to a tea party, but I have always had that desire since I was a little girl. This was much more than drinking tea and conversing. We were honoring my best friend, Sara and her two teammates Ally and Katie. We wore head coverings and had a prayer rug. They pray 5 times a day in 5 positions each time. I have no idea how they get anything done! It's all about ritual.&lt;br /&gt;1. Hands by their sides&lt;br /&gt;2. Hands over their ears&lt;br /&gt;3. Bent at the waist with hands on their knees&lt;br /&gt;4. On their knees, face to the floor&lt;br /&gt;5. Sitting up still sitting on the floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muslim women are treated like scum of the earth by the men. When they have daughters, they are the outcast. They are shunned. Women rarely go to the mosque to pray. They aren't allowed to pray during their monthly cycle or if they have had a baby because they are considered unclean. Sometimes I don't think I'll make it through my cycle without prayer! Muslim women have less access to the gospel than anyone else in the world. If they become Christian they could possibly be killed. My heart was completely broken, especially because I know that women hold a special place in God's heart. I was just looking at the pictures of these Muslim women and thinking about how God is looking at them. They have no idea their worth in Him. They have no idea they truly are beautiful. They don't know that veil can be taken off. They have no idea what He sees when He looks at them with His heart of compassion. They don't feel loved like I do. They are a princess of the King of Kings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Islam is the fastest growing religion in the world. Not only is there only 1 Christian missionary for every 1,000,000 Muslims, but the missionaries face a lot of obstacles. The biggest one being if they share the Gospel, and the Muslim accepts... the Muslim's life will be in great danger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How sad is it that a Muslim can never be sure of earning enough merit. The only guaranteed path to Paradise is to die a martyr’s death for Islam. I love knowing and being sure that Christ's death covered my sins. I learned there are similiar parallels in Christianity and Islam, but there are EXTREME differences. Opposite teachings. &lt;br /&gt;For instance:&lt;br /&gt;Bible: Men, love your wife as Christ loves the church. &lt;br /&gt;Quran: Men, you can beat your wife into submission. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Muslim world covers much of the entire world... North Africa, Middle East, Central Asia and the Pacific Rim. We need to pray for workers. Oral forms of the Gospel. Barriers broken down. Trust built between Christians and Muslims. The fleeing of darkness. Softening of hearts. A spread of Jesus name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5260764778701629592?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5260764778701629592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5260764778701629592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5260764778701629592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5260764778701629592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/prayer-tea.html' title='A Prayer Tea'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5112869663409227616</id><published>2009-01-16T16:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T18:06:23.711-06:00</updated><title type='text'>broken &lt;3s</title><content type='html'>Binding up the broken hearted is one of Jesus' greatest priorities...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5112869663409227616?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5112869663409227616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5112869663409227616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5112869663409227616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5112869663409227616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/broken-3s.html' title='broken &lt;3s'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-6069803623149579899</id><published>2009-01-11T15:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T17:01:24.506-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding Hands</title><content type='html'>"If the Lord delights in a man's way, &lt;br /&gt;he makes his steps firm; &lt;br /&gt;though he stumble, he will not fall, &lt;br /&gt;for the Lord upholds him with his hand. &lt;br /&gt;I was young and now I am old, &lt;br /&gt;yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken&lt;br /&gt;or their children begging bread."&lt;br /&gt;--Psalm 37:23-25&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I woke up too late to attend my regular church, but without doubt God wanted me at Mosaic. The message was about my greatest fear: the future. I've always had a "plan" for everything. Right now God has taken everything except for His Word and His hand. I've realized that when He holds my hand the tightest is when He's leading me through the dark. Right now, I'm applying for Journeyman, but I don't really know what is going to happen. I don't know when or where or even how. I just know what He's asked of me. Then I think if I do go, it's for &lt;em&gt;2 years&lt;/em&gt;. What happens when I come back? I go through these bouts of doubt. He never fails to calm my storm, whether it's sprinkling or raging. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if the Lord delights in a man's way (doing God's will)... He makes his steps firm. I'm stepping on solid ground that is leading me toward light. Toward joy. Toward fulfillment. Toward Jesus Christ, himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-6069803623149579899?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/6069803623149579899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=6069803623149579899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6069803623149579899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/6069803623149579899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/holding-hands.html' title='Holding Hands'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-1904807849406290461</id><published>2009-01-10T14:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T16:41:56.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"When a man dies, will he come back to life?&lt;br /&gt;If so, I would wait all the days of my struggle &lt;br /&gt;until my relief comes." &lt;br /&gt;--Job 14:14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness the loss of something or someone never has to mean the end of an abundant, effective or even joyful life for any Christian. These may seem to pause for a moment as grief takes it course. But those who allow their broken heart to be bound by Christ will experience them again. Our Savior is the God of resurrection life... no matter what kind of death has occured to a believer. When our hearts have been shattered by loss and saddness we have the opportunity to welcome a super natural power to live again on this earth when we'd rather die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-1904807849406290461?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/1904807849406290461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=1904807849406290461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1904807849406290461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1904807849406290461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-man-dies-will-he-come-back-to-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7383411042252574371</id><published>2009-01-09T22:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T23:20:51.062-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Missions. I've realized that nothing else is going on in our world except for God's unstoppable plan. I've been given a chance to die. Die to the world. Die to my selfish dreams. Die to earthly treasures. Die to my plans and my ideas. But He's given me life and with a new life comes death of the old. A chance to live for Heaven, live for His dreams, live for His treasures... and live His plan for my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has hung onto me so tightly. When I look back I ask, "Jesus, why didn't you just give up a long time ago?" His love for me is incomprehensible. There are so many people who are searching and wondering and needing a Savior. Yet He has revealed Himself to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;em&gt;He chose me&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never get away from that truth. No matter how far I run or even where I try to hide. It doesn't matter if I say no for two years, two million times. His plan won't be stopped. So my relentless God pursuing me... what is it that He's asking of me? Love and obedience. They go hand in hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now obedience for me is saying Yes, God. It's saying here I am... send me! My heart is stirred by international missions. It beats for the unreached. It's not that my heart isn't scared or even confused about how it's ever going to work or when or where... I have questions. I cry out of fear. I worry. But He gives me new strength... holding me up with His nail-scared hands... leading me on the path He has chosen. The path that leads to love. To joy. To fulfillment. To adventure. To life. To Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's said, "My beloved, look what You have in Me. I want you to go... share life. Share my life. I've given you life... pour yours out. And let me love you, princess. Let me love you, so you can love others."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7383411042252574371?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7383411042252574371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7383411042252574371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7383411042252574371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7383411042252574371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2009/01/missions.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-377072148762106150</id><published>2008-09-12T22:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T22:17:14.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>broken hearts</title><content type='html'>Jesus,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;help me to be selfless. help me to have empathy. let me look at other's problems, and just know You are solving mine. You know what happened today at school and You know what is going on with my best friend. i pray for both of them. heal their hearts. take away fear. bind satan. i know You work everything out according to Your good and perfect will. our hearts are aching for Your return. the world is maddness and in mass confusion. Jesus, we want to be willing to let You breathe life into others through us. there's so much hurt, but You bring healing. we are waiting eagerly for You, but while we do, give us the strength to obey and do hard things. reign in our hearts as You reign on high so others might see the love you bring. we want to love Your church, and we want to love the lost. we want them to have what we have and feel what we feel because of You. keep reminding us of Your death and life. thank you for holding me steady. use me. wake me up to the reality of this dying world. wake my heart up to agape love. give me a love for You above anything and anyone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you for choosing me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-377072148762106150?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/377072148762106150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=377072148762106150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/377072148762106150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/377072148762106150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2008/09/broken-hearts.html' title='broken hearts'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-1576656924050046024</id><published>2008-09-11T19:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T22:01:08.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>amazing patience</title><content type='html'>Jesus,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are way too patient with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-1576656924050046024?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/1576656924050046024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=1576656924050046024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1576656924050046024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/1576656924050046024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2008/09/amazing-patience.html' title='amazing patience'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-2307706837436478669</id><published>2008-09-09T20:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T21:52:12.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions</title><content type='html'>Why do I have two sides?&lt;br /&gt;Why does only the bad show?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I cry for the goodness of You to come out, but I still don't let it?&lt;br /&gt;Why would you allow the burden of me and my selfishness on John and Sara, yet give me the two best friends a girl could have?&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it.&lt;br /&gt;Why do you even take time after time to work on me?&lt;br /&gt;Why are you never ceasing even when I'm ever failing?&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;Why are You proud and glad to call me Your daughter, when I'm full of what You hate? Pride.&lt;br /&gt;Why do you surround me with sunsets and beauty when the depth of my heart is hideous?&lt;br /&gt;Why would You give Yourself to a girl who doesn't even give you small stuff?&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;Why would You hold my hands after all they've touched?&lt;br /&gt;Why do You kiss my lips, when I kiss Your cheek in betrayal over and over? &lt;br /&gt;Why do you catch my tears when I created them because of sin?&lt;br /&gt;Why even create me when my tongue speaks words of destruction and my feet continually walk away?&lt;br /&gt;Why don't You see disaster when You look at me?&lt;br /&gt;How can You see worth, and why do You say You see beauty?&lt;br /&gt;Why do you comfort me when I've earned being without anyone because I destroy the bridges of all of my relationships?&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't make sense.&lt;br /&gt;Why do You think of me?&lt;br /&gt;Why do You waste breath speaking to my hardened heart?&lt;br /&gt;Why would You want to spend an eternity with me? &lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness of my sins came at a price--Your life. Why for me?&lt;br /&gt;It shouldn't be. &lt;br /&gt;Why am I so selfish?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I look inward when it's about You and Your glory?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I look into my mess--and disaster when You are complete peace?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I fight when You ask to hold me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-2307706837436478669?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/2307706837436478669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=2307706837436478669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2307706837436478669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/2307706837436478669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2008/09/questions.html' title='Questions'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-5876637170520917635</id><published>2008-07-12T12:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T03:13:34.054-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Recent Email</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SHjwvZzz5qI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gUkNKaZwI7c/s1600-h/2194480601_04d7120f0c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SHjwvZzz5qI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gUkNKaZwI7c/s320/2194480601_04d7120f0c.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222188465108805282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You have kept record of my days of wandering.  You have stored my tears in your bottle and counted each of them.  Psalm 56:8 (CEV)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying softly as she waddled into the women’s room of the mosque, the older Shiite woman determinedly proceeded to the center of the room.  Her tears became more intense as she pressed her body, clad in a flowing black garment from her head to her toes, against the shrine which the room encircled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This extravagantly decorated shrine is seen by many Shiites as having supernatural importance because it is home to the body of Ruqiyeh, the daughter of Imam Hussein, revered as holy by Shiites.  Although she has been dead for centuries, her resting place is believed to house a great deal of power for those who pray there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After resting against the colorful shrine for a while, the sobbing woman suddenly crumbled to the floor.  For minutes she laid next to the shrine, still grasping its exterior bars with her hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first her tears were quiet, but gradually genuine outcries of despair followed. All of the sudden the woman, still prostrate on the floor, began to illegibly yell and loudly cry out as her body went into convulsions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Causing quite a scene, many of the other Shiite women in the room quickly abandoned their prayers and fellowship with others to encompass the space around the desperate woman. Her piercing cries were not quenched for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, there is a desperate cry emanating from Shiites at over 25 different shrines throughout the Middle East, Arabian Peninsula, and Central Asia . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can they find peace without knowing and following Christ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for Shiites like this woman who are desperately crying out at shrines, wanting to experience blessing and power through dead saints. Pray they cry out to God and discover the blessing and power that comes only from Him, the Lord of heaven and earth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend of His Shiite Bride, let’s pray that thousands of Shiites encounter Jesus when they visit special shrines in the coming days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-5876637170520917635?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/5876637170520917635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=5876637170520917635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5876637170520917635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/5876637170520917635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2008/07/recent-email.html' title='Recent Email'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SHjwvZzz5qI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gUkNKaZwI7c/s72-c/2194480601_04d7120f0c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-7212991490586622226</id><published>2008-07-08T19:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T21:18:53.702-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"We Buy Broken Gold"</title><content type='html'>I drove by a pawn shop today, and their sign said "&lt;strong&gt;We buy broken gold&lt;/strong&gt;." And I thought to myself "broken gold?" I imagined tiny pieces of gold. Useless. Then I realized they melt that gold, mold it and turn it into jewelry. &lt;br /&gt;At that moment God said, "Holly, that's what I do. I &lt;em&gt;love&lt;/em&gt; the broken things that you see as worthless. I take &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; broken. I can see the sparkling finish. I can see what I am going to make out of your broken gold." &lt;br /&gt;And I thought about that for a while. So many people don't see their worth. They just see their brokenness. Our worth is in Christ. &lt;em&gt;He&lt;/em&gt; is what makes us valuable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-7212991490586622226?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/7212991490586622226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=7212991490586622226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7212991490586622226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/7212991490586622226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2008/07/we-buy-broken-gold.html' title='&quot;We Buy Broken Gold&quot;'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-4871686799424948971</id><published>2008-01-30T13:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T14:24:08.551-06:00</updated><title type='text'>honesty-always the best policy</title><content type='html'>how honest are we with one another? and is this one of satan's tactics to keep us from being liberated? God can't use us as He would like if we aren't honest with one another. and if we aren't even being honest with ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been trying to figure out lately why God would put so many non-Christians in my life. and what's the reason so many of my friends and family are non-Christians, or why have so many of those people around me lost sight of our Goal in life. how do i get through to some of these people i love? what do i say to them? what do i do for them? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my greatest question "why me?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am suppose to offer up my life and my shame that others might truly see who Christ is in my life. can they really see who Christ is in my life if they don't know what He saved me from?....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's more to my life than "a good girl who goes to church... shh! a girl with virgin ears... a nice girl..." how does an attempting, trying, struggling holy life relate to the world? it doesn't so much as an attempting holy life with an honest past that looks exactly like the world. a open, honest past gives hope to those who are looking for a way out of their depressing life. it's Jesus Christ who saves us from it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've tried to keep my past just that--the past. but what good is it if i don't share it? yes, &lt;em&gt;i've&lt;/em&gt; learned from my past, but can others if it's hidden? my past is dark and heartbreaking but God wants to use it for good, but i have to give it up. i've kept it swept under the rug because i didn't think i wanted anyone to know me for who i really was. i wanted people to hold me up on a pedestal thinking i've only made a few &lt;em&gt;little&lt;/em&gt; mistakes. you know the cookie jar kind. but i've allowed my selfish pride to get in the way of God's plan. and is that anything short of who satan is?.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;within the past couple of years i've had many people ask for me to share my testimony (to crowds that i think are large, which is scary in and of itself). and i have had many opportunities to work with youth. opportunities kept popping up, but i'd never get honest so i'd lose them. i love working with youth, and i have been praying about it for a while. i'm finally at a church that i feel extremely comfortable in. i feel like i am suppose to be there. but i don't feel so comfy cozy about giving my testimony although i feel called to do so. my boyfriend randomly told me the other day i should. then mrs. s. told me that i have something to give to the youth, and i could probably do a lot of good by talking to this one particular girl in the youth. and the funny thing is... mrs. s. doesn't know anything about me. at Bible study the other night we were talking about what our church is missing and it's openness and honesty with one another about our lives and our struggles. which in the back of my heart i have known this about my own life, but God is making it a reality i am not able to ignore. i've learned with God you can only suppress things for so long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today in my quiet time i was just reading some things about satan and his tactics. but today i read in Revelation 12:11 "They overcame him [satan] by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony." i just stopped. and i was like mine? i need to give mine? i have to give mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus gave us one another that we might share life together. the Life that is about Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-4871686799424948971?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/4871686799424948971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=4871686799424948971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4871686799424948971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/4871686799424948971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2008/01/honesty-always-best-policy.html' title='honesty-always the best policy'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114649800645350147</id><published>2006-05-01T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T10:40:06.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the defining moment that is going to help me move on</title><content type='html'>i guess you &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; get over your first love when you are forced to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was carrying my notebook and some library books today, and i dropped them. i don't tend to cry over spilt milk, but i did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it because i feel betrayed? is it because i feel used? am i sad? is it because it hurts? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it really, finally the start of my new life? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will my scars forever ruin all of God's plans?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114649800645350147?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114649800645350147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114649800645350147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114649800645350147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114649800645350147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/05/defining-moment-that-is-going-to-help.html' title='the defining moment that is going to help me move on'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114649818698934237</id><published>2006-04-29T08:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T10:43:06.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I need to be reminded of who I was&lt;br /&gt;When I took my first steps out the door&lt;br /&gt;All I said now follows me around&lt;br /&gt;I'm reminded I'm not like that anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I uprooted and miles behind me&lt;br /&gt;Are the faces and the home I love&lt;br /&gt;You've brought to my attention&lt;br /&gt;I'm slowly changing and becoming&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted to stop&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114649818698934237?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114649818698934237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114649818698934237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114649818698934237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114649818698934237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-need-to-be-reminded-of-who-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114555491905648596</id><published>2006-04-20T12:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T12:41:59.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"And [she] wonders when [her] father will return&lt;br /&gt;But he's not coming back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And [she] can't understand&lt;br /&gt;How everyone goes on breathing when true love ends..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114555491905648596?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114555491905648596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114555491905648596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114555491905648596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114555491905648596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-she-wonders-when-her-father-will.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114495043493198465</id><published>2006-04-13T12:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T12:42:20.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>...it was your hello that kept me hanging on every word...&lt;br /&gt;and your good-bye that keeps me listening for your voice around each corner....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Copeland&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114495043493198465?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114495043493198465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114495043493198465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114495043493198465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114495043493198465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114469202747896730</id><published>2006-04-10T12:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T12:44:53.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know just the right thing to say...&lt;br /&gt;the distance ripped us farther and farther and farther away....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Maybe I fell too fast&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I pushed you away&lt;br /&gt;Now you're gone and I'm afraid&lt;br /&gt;That you're never coming back this away again...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114469202747896730?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114469202747896730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114469202747896730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114469202747896730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114469202747896730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/04/you-know-just-right-thing-to-say.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114374242998646393</id><published>2006-03-30T12:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T12:13:49.986-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Faye Lynn and Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1600/hollyandfay21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/320/hollyandfay21.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1600/hollyandfay12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/320/hollyandfay12.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114374242998646393?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114374242998646393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114374242998646393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114374242998646393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114374242998646393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/03/faye-lynn-and-me.html' title='Faye Lynn and Me'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114374232786350365</id><published>2006-03-24T14:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T12:12:07.890-06:00</updated><title type='text'>i hate it</title><content type='html'>the closer i get to him, the further i fall from You...&lt;br /&gt;but the futher i fall from You... in turn...&lt;br /&gt;the more him and i break...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish that were not truth in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it possible for it to be the other way around?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114374232786350365?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114374232786350365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114374232786350365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114374232786350365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114374232786350365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-hate-it.html' title='i hate it'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114184146250455706</id><published>2006-03-08T12:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T12:11:02.530-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If you find yourself here on my side of town,&lt;br /&gt;I pray that you'd come to my door&lt;br /&gt;and talk to me like you don't know what we ever fought about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114184146250455706?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114184146250455706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114184146250455706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114184146250455706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114184146250455706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/03/if-you-find-yourself-here-on-my-side.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114184155675235862</id><published>2006-03-06T12:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T12:21:10.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Don't go away&lt;br /&gt;And leave me here alone&lt;br /&gt;I wish there was something I could say&lt;br /&gt;To make you turn around&lt;br /&gt;And come back home&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you stay, why can't you&lt;br /&gt;I can't stay awake&lt;br /&gt;Cause you know I'm thinking&lt;br /&gt;Always thinking of you&lt;br /&gt;I can't fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Cause  you know I'm dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Always dreaming of you&lt;br /&gt;Give me one more day&lt;br /&gt;So you don't ruin my year&lt;br /&gt;There has to be something I could say&lt;br /&gt;To make you realize&lt;br /&gt;I need you here&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you stay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114184155675235862?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114184155675235862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114184155675235862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114184155675235862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114184155675235862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/03/dont-go-away-and-leave-me-here-alone-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114090068727035249</id><published>2006-02-25T14:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T14:51:27.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"weird" food</title><content type='html'>Okay, at work whoever is at the podium writes notes to the caller, so I was writing about seemingly strange food. And I was told flat out "gross!!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheese eggs with syrup&lt;br /&gt;chips with ketchup &lt;br /&gt;frozen grapes&lt;br /&gt;milk with vanilla (liquid) coffee creamer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's good. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114090068727035249?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114090068727035249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114090068727035249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114090068727035249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114090068727035249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/weird-food.html' title='&quot;weird&quot; food'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114075013076869372</id><published>2006-02-23T20:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T21:02:10.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>.. red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1600/IMG_1115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/200/IMG_1115.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1600/IMG_1114.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/200/IMG_1114.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1600/IMG_1112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/200/IMG_1112.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday I started the first of my many practicums. I absolutely loved it. Children are so wonderful! I'm working with 3rd, 4th and 5th graders, which is actually kind of odd because I want to work with 1st, 2nd or 3rd graders. I'm working in a school that isn't the best of a neighborhood. It was so sad. Mrs. Jowers was telling me about some of the students not getting help with their homework; the parents just don't take any interest. And some of them were really dirty. But then I think, this is an opportunity God has given me to love on these children as He would. I have to love on them like He does because He lives in me, and has always loved me even though I'm "stained with dirt." It's so awesome how they look up to you because you're "big," but I don't want them to look up to me because of Holly. I want them to look up to me because they see Someone who loves them, because they see some sort of Light, maybe nothing they have ever seen before. I pray that Jesus is heard through my mouth, shown in my actions, and felt in my hugs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114075013076869372?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114075013076869372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114075013076869372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114075013076869372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114075013076869372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/red-and-yellow-black-and-white-they.html' title='.. red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight...&quot;'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012795040875070</id><published>2006-02-16T15:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T16:12:30.536-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbows</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1600/IMG_10423.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/200/IMG_10423.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I have really been thinking about my past choices and actions. I've been praying about just really being sorry. I've been broken about what I have chosen to do with the Cross, what I have chosen to do with my life and with other's lives. &lt;em&gt;Never&lt;/em&gt; have I felt so remorseful in my life. I have never wanted to turn back the hands of time and redo things as bad as I do right now. I've been praying about the wasted years. Asking God just to have mercy on me. Asking that I might be able to try again, start over. But I don't deserve it. Then last night I was reading about Noah. And I read about God's promise and the rainbow He sent across the sky. I prayed and went to sleep. This afternoon when I got home, I stuck my ipod on and walked into the kitchen to make a pb&amp;j sandwich. But as I walked to the pantry, on the ground right in of my foot was a rainbow and the words coming through my ear phones said "He will wipe away your tears and return your wasted years..." I just stopped in my tracks. I was like thank YOU! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...This is our God..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012795040875070?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012795040875070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012795040875070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012795040875070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012795040875070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/rainbows.html' title='Rainbows'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012553965571277</id><published>2006-02-16T15:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T15:32:19.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Shanna and Sara (not 7th graders!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1105.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1105.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012553965571277?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012553965571277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012553965571277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012553965571277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012553965571277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/shanna-and-sara-not-7th-graders.html' title='Shanna and Sara (not 7th graders!)'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012546420923024</id><published>2006-02-16T15:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T15:31:04.210-06:00</updated><title type='text'>songs of praise</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1109.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1109.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012546420923024?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012546420923024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012546420923024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012546420923024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012546420923024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/songs-of-praise.html' title='songs of praise'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012541143867360</id><published>2006-02-16T15:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T15:30:11.440-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Makin' necklaces</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1110.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1110.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012541143867360?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012541143867360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012541143867360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012541143867360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012541143867360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/makin-necklaces.html' title='Makin&apos; necklaces'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012531266611567</id><published>2006-02-16T15:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T15:28:32.666-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashley being me.. haha</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1095.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1095.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012531266611567?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012531266611567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012531266611567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012531266611567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012531266611567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/ashley-being-me-haha.html' title='Ashley being me.. haha'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012523842481666</id><published>2006-02-16T15:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T15:27:18.426-06:00</updated><title type='text'>primping</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1093.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1093.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012523842481666?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012523842481666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012523842481666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012523842481666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012523842481666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/primping.html' title='primping'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-114012516188707477</id><published>2006-02-16T15:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T15:26:01.896-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brandi, Haley, Tati, Stephanie and Jordan</title><content type='html'>&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1082.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1082.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-114012516188707477?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/114012516188707477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=114012516188707477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012516188707477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/114012516188707477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/brandi-haley-tati-stephanie-and-jordan.html' title='Brandi, Haley, Tati, Stephanie and Jordan'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-113984981830066239</id><published>2006-02-13T10:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T10:56:58.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>PJs</title><content type='html'>&lt;BODY&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/1024/IMG_1084.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7963/1530/400/IMG_1084.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='display:block;margin 0px auto 10px; cursor:hand; text-align:center'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/BODY&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-113984981830066239?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/113984981830066239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=113984981830066239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/113984981830066239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/113984981830066239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/pjs.html' title='PJs'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-113984877028996289</id><published>2006-02-13T09:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T10:39:30.380-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Disciple Now- True Love Waits</title><content type='html'>I thought I wasn't going to D-Now, but I got to go. We went to Jacksonville (Orange Park). I had the privilege of teaching 7th grade girls. It was amazing to see God working in their lives. Through teaching them God was teaching me. We really needed another 2 or 3 days because by the end is when the girls started opening up. It was a lot of fun, just to hang out with them, love on them and be real (plus pillow fight). The entire weekend God helped me to focus on someone else for once, rather than myself. He helped me to focus on the future of these girls lives and His life in them. I broke down as soon as I got in my car to drive home, though. For the first time in my life I literally signed that I am going to wait. I've already given it to God, but it's only been months. Just to sign felt so good. I signed at the top between the E and the L (truE Love). Still, I felt so inadequate. Who am I to be teaching girls about purity? I realized the gift that the girls have, not just gift but giftS. The gift of the relationship they have with their Savior if they choose to stay close to Him. And then within that all the things He desires to give them in their future. They can hang onto all of it using the strength given to them by Christ living within them. And let it blossom like a rose rather than a train wreck. I've chosen to walk the narrow road finally; my heart can't take any other way. I realized just being on this trip that things I have wanted, God is giving me. Two verses ringing true are "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Matthew 6:33) and "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart" (Psalm 37:4). I loved just being with my friend Sara and her friend, Shanna in the car ride. We talked about God and what's going on in our lives, our struggles, but we also talked about silly stuff and listen to music. It's really amazing of what comes forth when two people are focused on Christ. I've wanted to be able to work with youth, and now God is &lt;em&gt;allowing&lt;/em&gt; me to. I'm building friendships that I have wanted. I'm meeting people with the same life goal, which is to glorify our Savior. This is cheesy, but it gives you warm fuzzies. It's constant joy. It's continuous love. I'm not tense. I'm not looking over my shoulder. I'm not scared. I'm not sad. The most important relationship I have been able to start rebuilding through Christ is with my mom. It's like we're close again. I can finally be real because I'm not trying to hide. I can finally use the support I have always had in her, but never chosen to use. I can get back to cracking up with her. I can love her and be loved. True Love does wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if this is confusing. My thoughts were a little jumbled. I wanted to express what I felt while I was driving home yesterday, but it's not comprehendable really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-113984877028996289?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/113984877028996289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=113984877028996289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/113984877028996289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/113984877028996289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/disciple-now-true-love-waits.html' title='Disciple Now- True Love Waits'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16695890.post-113893740589792070</id><published>2006-02-02T21:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T21:30:05.913-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Page is Turned</title><content type='html'>A page is turned by the wind to a boy with curly grin&lt;br /&gt;With a world to conquer at the age of ten&lt;br /&gt;But as history unfolds and the storybook is told&lt;br /&gt;He finds salvation not at the hands of man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the God of second chance&lt;br /&gt;Picked him up and He let him dance&lt;br /&gt;Through a world that is not kind&lt;br /&gt;And all this time, preparing him the one&lt;br /&gt;To hold him up when he comes undone&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the storm, beneath the sun&lt;br /&gt;And now a man, here you stand&lt;br /&gt;Your day has come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A page is turned in this world to reveal a little girl&lt;br /&gt;With a heart that's bigger, as it is unfurled&lt;br /&gt;By the language in her soul, that's teaching her to grow&lt;br /&gt;With a careful cover of love that will not fail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the God of second chance&lt;br /&gt;Picked her up and He let her dance&lt;br /&gt;Through a world that is not kind&lt;br /&gt;And all this time, preparing her the one&lt;br /&gt;To hold her up when she comes undone&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the storm, beneath the sun&lt;br /&gt;And grown up tall, here you are&lt;br /&gt;Your day has come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the air of autumn, she took him by the hand&lt;br /&gt;And warm beneath the ardor, she took his heart instead&lt;br /&gt;And high upon the mountain, he asked her for her hand&lt;br /&gt;Just for her hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A page is turned in this life, he's making her his wife&lt;br /&gt;And there is no secret to the source of this much life&lt;br /&gt;When the grace falls like rain is washing them again&lt;br /&gt;Just a chance to somehow rise above this land&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the God of second chance&lt;br /&gt;Will pick them up and He'll let them dance&lt;br /&gt;Through a world that is not kind&lt;br /&gt;And all this time, they're sharing with the One&lt;br /&gt;That holds them up when they come undone&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the sotrm, beneath the sun&lt;br /&gt;And once again, here you stand&lt;br /&gt;And once again, here you stand&lt;br /&gt;Your day has come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Bebo Norman&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16695890-113893740589792070?l=exit21.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/feeds/113893740589792070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16695890&amp;postID=113893740589792070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/113893740589792070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16695890/posts/default/113893740589792070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://exit21.blogspot.com/2006/02/page-is-turned.html' title='A Page is Turned'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16979605165698359995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sG0PIVOMFtY/SrbnTq_q3vI/AAAAAAAAABg/7N9xqTw0LVU/S220/5569_141533521240_500771240_3490096_7018093_n-1.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
