<?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-1264929749988902620</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:50:50.079-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Conception of Contemplation</title><subtitle type='html'>A quiet place where I can ponder provocations and occasionally revel in my rantings</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-3195278414539003703</id><published>2010-03-12T09:38:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T09:41:32.050-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready to Jump</title><content type='html'>I read this on a blog that I follow this morning and these words that God spoke to her spoke directly to my heart as well. I am truly tired of playing it safe in life. Ready to take some leaps.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Walk by faith, not by sight. As you take stepsof faith, depending on Me, I will show you how much I can do for you. If you live your life too safely, you will never know the thrill of seeing Me work through you. When I gave you My spirit, I empowered you to live beyond your natural ability and strength. that's why it is so wrong to measure your energy level against the challenges ahead of you. The issue is not your strength but Mine, which is limitless. By walking close to Me, you can accomplish My purposes in My strength."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-3195278414539003703?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/3195278414539003703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=3195278414539003703&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/3195278414539003703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/3195278414539003703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2010/03/ready-to-jump.html' title='Ready to Jump'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-563076738325967456</id><published>2010-03-10T08:11:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T08:18:01.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Highly Recommended</title><content type='html'>I am listening to the "Heaven" series from Pastor Steve Berger of Grace Chapel here in Leipers Fork. Here is a link to purchase the series. I strongly recommend it. As he says, we spend our whole lives proclaiming that this present life is but a breath and we look forward to the eternal yet none of us really know anything about what Heaven will be like. We spend no time in pursuit of understanding what God will allow us to understand about it; this place where we will spend eternity. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For me, Heaven has been a  source of immense anxiety in my past. I am a person who needs to know something about what to expect. And I've finally realized that that's OK. But no one could ever tell me anything other than, "it's gonna be great". Well that wasn't enough for me. An endless amount of "great" wasn't enough information. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this is a must for your resource library. I see myself referring back to this series many times in the rest of my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://gracechapel.net/resources/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-563076738325967456?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/563076738325967456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=563076738325967456&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/563076738325967456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/563076738325967456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2010/03/highly-recommended.html' title='Highly Recommended'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-6802680013774426357</id><published>2010-01-01T13:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T13:39:55.248-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wintertime</title><content type='html'>"Late lies the wintry sun abed, &lt;div&gt;A frosty, fiery sleepyhead;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blinks but an hour or two; and then, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A blood-red orange, sets again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before the stars have left the skies, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At morning in the dark I rise;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And shivering in my nakedness,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the cold candle, bathe and dress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Close by the jolly fire I sit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To warm my frozen bones a bit;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or with a reindeer-sled, explore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The colder countries round the door. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When to go out, my nurse doth wrap&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me in my comforter and cap;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cold wind burns my face, and blows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its frosty pepper up my nose. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Black are my steps on silver sod;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And tree and house, and hill and lake,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are frosted like a wedding cake."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---Robert Louis Stevenson&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-6802680013774426357?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/6802680013774426357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=6802680013774426357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6802680013774426357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6802680013774426357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2010/01/wintertime.html' title='Wintertime'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-4444835003726836884</id><published>2009-12-27T15:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T16:00:34.183-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Is It Summer Yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm just sayin'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SzfY6P2X0BI/AAAAAAAABPI/NtBHRLS1BJY/s1600-h/ws_Seasons_-_Summer_1280x800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SzfY6P2X0BI/AAAAAAAABPI/NtBHRLS1BJY/s320/ws_Seasons_-_Summer_1280x800.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420039171762278418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-4444835003726836884?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/4444835003726836884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=4444835003726836884&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4444835003726836884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4444835003726836884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/12/is-it-summer-yet.html' title='Is It Summer Yet?'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SzfY6P2X0BI/AAAAAAAABPI/NtBHRLS1BJY/s72-c/ws_Seasons_-_Summer_1280x800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-3026589962810726132</id><published>2009-12-26T13:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T14:06:30.831-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Here Goes Nothing</title><content type='html'>For the first time I am "publicly" sharing some of my writing. Public, of course, only if someone reads it. Trust me this is more for me than for whoever may stumble across this blog. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off and on through the years I have tried to be disciplined with my writing but inevitably it falls to the wayside smothered in excuses. I have no time. I have nothing worth writing about. I don't have enough content to actually create a book. What if no one likes it? What if I fail? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was one of my writing assignments from a book I have called, "Wild Mind". Written February and March 2008 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:::Take a situation, a story that is hard for you to talk about, and write about it. Write slowly, evenly, in a measured way. Don't skip over any part of it. Stay in there. It may take you several days, a week, a month to write out the whole thing. Continue to work in it until it is finished. :::&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"It was out first double-date. My mind was already crowded with thoughts of our relationship and making it so vulnerable for the first time. After guarding against critics and opinions we were now letting these other two people in to view the inner-workings of 'us'. I was a little nervous. Jayme, of course was not. He was never one to spend much time analyzing what others thought of him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, four years later there is much about that evening that I forget. And if it were not for the phone call I received I cannot be sure that I would remember any of it very well. With that phone call a seemingly insignificant night became a very memorable one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were driving to the bowling alley. It was cold. A mid-December evening and my body was still clenched tight adjusting to the cold leather seats while I waited for the heat to kick on. Jeremy drove. Caitlin beside him, and Jayme and I rode in the back. My cell phone rang. I looked and saw that it was my mom. I let it go to voicemail with the thought that I would call her later when I was not in a car with three other people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The phone rang again. This time it was that dreaded ring when the thought crosses your mind, 'If they are calling again, something must be wrong'. So I answered it being careful not to convey my inward hesitations to my fellow passengers. We continued to drive past familiar places as I listened to my mother's voice on the other end of the phone, and what was a moment ago so familiar, now seemed so foreign. Distant really. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though in reality she was no more than 20 miles from where I was, something seemed to separate us. A great divide. She began the conversation normally. "Hi honey, where are you?"I proceeded to tell her. She said something to the effect of, "i know this isn't the best time to tell you this, but Grampy passed away." She went on to tell me that his heart bypass surgery had initially gone well and recovery was going as normal, and in the midst of cracking jokes with the nurses, (a mighty trait of my grandfathers'), the monitors began to alarm and within seconds, he was gone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3-1-08&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to process this information, as I placed on my brave face almost without knowing I had done it. For the sake of not ruining the evening, and not wanting to allow these people into even the shallowest of my emotions, I remained fairly non-expressive. I bottled the hurt, fought the tears and moved on with the evening. Jayme of course suspected more than I would allow him to see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The evening commenced and apart from those few moments when the stillness sets in and pulls your mind to those deep places in the midst of your shallow activity, I did a great job of carrying on as if nothing had happened. The phone call was forgotten by all but me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We bowled our last frame, bundled back up, and ventured once again into the cold. I don't remember anything about the ride home except that the wall I had built ad spent all night holding up was now beginning to tremble and my body ached from leaning against it so hard in a strained attempt to keep it up there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the time we had returned to Jayme's house the weight of my wall was caving in. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and instead turned the corner into Jayme's office. I found a blanket in the closet and a corner that looked suitable and I layed there and cried. No longer left with the choice not to feel the hurt. It overtook me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not long after, Jayme found me there and his presence brought me peace and comfort though I still would have liked to resist the sharing of these bare emotions if I could have."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-3026589962810726132?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/3026589962810726132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=3026589962810726132&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/3026589962810726132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/3026589962810726132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/12/here-goes-nothing.html' title='Here Goes Nothing'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-4450554386953282765</id><published>2009-10-19T15:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:18:43.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Interrupted</title><content type='html'>Please please read this book and allow it to change your life. It's far-past time to do something.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"This is what God taught me through Judas at Jesus' table, eating the broken bread that was His body: We don't get to opt out of living on mission because we might not be appreciated. We're not allowed to neglect the oppressed because we have reservations about their discernment. We cannot deny love because it might be despised or misunderstood. We can't withhold social relief because we're not convinced it will be perfectly managed. Must we be wise? Absolutely. But doing nothing is a blatant sin of omission. turning a blind eye to the bottom on the grounds of 'unworthiness' is the antithesis to Jesus' entire mission."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"He became the offering for people who would slander His name with ferocity, yet His grace was theirs for the asking until they drew their last breaths, even if all they could offer Him was a lifetime of hatred and one moment of repentance." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jen Hatmaker&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Interrupted" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-4450554386953282765?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/4450554386953282765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=4450554386953282765&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4450554386953282765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4450554386953282765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/10/interrupted.html' title='Interrupted'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-326074817942617227</id><published>2009-10-18T22:30:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T22:48:09.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's The Great Pumpkin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvg7mpbiMI/AAAAAAAAA3k/od1_UBqRMAs/s1600-h/pumpkin_field.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvg7mpbiMI/AAAAAAAAA3k/od1_UBqRMAs/s320/pumpkin_field.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394152293297522882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;I love how much we celebrate pumpkins this time of year. I'm not sure where the tradition began (maybe I'll look that up tonight) but I want to give a great big hug to the creative mind who began the grand pumpkin carving tradition. I have no idea what even made me do it tonight but I was inspired to search for unique carvings. Some are silly, some wildly creative, some incredibly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                     intricate and all totally enjoyable. Thought I'd share.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvg7Cv4KMI/AAAAAAAAA3c/VIGJaJZn_t4/s1600-h/pumpkin12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 275px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvg7Cv4KMI/AAAAAAAAA3c/VIGJaJZn_t4/s320/pumpkin12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394152283660888258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvgu40Xo0I/AAAAAAAAA3U/-QU56gLbEJ8/s1600-h/pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 313px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvgu40Xo0I/AAAAAAAAA3U/-QU56gLbEJ8/s320/pumpkin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394152074836943682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvguWqnW7I/AAAAAAAAA3M/IbBkjM0LGXU/s1600-h/pumpkin+(14).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvguWqnW7I/AAAAAAAAA3M/IbBkjM0LGXU/s320/pumpkin+(14).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394152065669225394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvguGHFhtI/AAAAAAAAA3E/jkzhuy8aTmg/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 142px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvguGHFhtI/AAAAAAAAA3E/jkzhuy8aTmg/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394152061225240274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvgtuJ9k3I/AAAAAAAAA28/MzPp_vZo23Q/s1600-h/drunk_pumpkin_470x353.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvgtuJ9k3I/AAAAAAAAA28/MzPp_vZo23Q/s320/drunk_pumpkin_470x353.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394152054794851186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvgh_QWZoI/AAAAAAAAA20/Nc5z8BmrhUI/s1600-h/AtlasGiantPumpkin+(2)_____.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvgh_QWZoI/AAAAAAAAA20/Nc5z8BmrhUI/s320/AtlasGiantPumpkin+(2)_____.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394151853226616450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvghcrUXbI/AAAAAAAAA2s/H54ramOSUAU/s1600-h/20081021-pumpkinburger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvghcrUXbI/AAAAAAAAA2s/H54ramOSUAU/s320/20081021-pumpkinburger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394151843944488370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;         This next one made me jump a little with giddy joy. It's the death star. Magnificent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvghI2NvSI/AAAAAAAAA2k/FrNwzQxCOEo/s1600-h/geek-pumpkin-deathstar-sm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 296px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/StvghI2NvSI/AAAAAAAAA2k/FrNwzQxCOEo/s320/geek-pumpkin-deathstar-sm.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394151838621482274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                       I am going to do this one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvggma1wtI/AAAAAAAAA2c/hcjZy12KWzY/s1600-h/kenova-pumpkin-house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvggma1wtI/AAAAAAAAA2c/hcjZy12KWzY/s320/kenova-pumpkin-house.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394151829379859154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-326074817942617227?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/326074817942617227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=326074817942617227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/326074817942617227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/326074817942617227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-great-pumpkin.html' title='It&apos;s The Great Pumpkin'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/Stvg7mpbiMI/AAAAAAAAA3k/od1_UBqRMAs/s72-c/pumpkin_field.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-7066336653443984041</id><published>2009-08-10T16:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T17:00:26.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Help</title><content type='html'>I need help. I feel like I need a constant companion to go throughout my day with. Someone to help me process ideas and encourage creativity. Right now I can feel things on the inside of me, creativity screaming to get out, but I feel like it's locked away and I am far from finding the key. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's really a lose/lose with me. When I have all the time in the world to explore my creativity I am fraught with feelings of loneliness and do my absolute best to distract myself every moment of the day, thereby accomplishing little if anything at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If anyone has a solution please do make it known.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-7066336653443984041?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/7066336653443984041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=7066336653443984041&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7066336653443984041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7066336653443984041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/08/help.html' title='Help'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-7857094974748500672</id><published>2009-04-28T09:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:38:58.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Or Need?</title><content type='html'>I heard a pastor the other day, (Francis Chan to be precise) pose the question "would you still desire Jesus if you were promised a life with the ones you love, no threat of pain or disease or hurt in any way, just happiness and peace?" In essence if you took away the "need" for Jesus would you be satisfied without him? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In bare naked honesty, I have really had to think about this. With guilt in my heart, I have been pondering. Do I love Jesus because I need Him, because He rescues me from myself and gives me hope in a hopeless world, or because He is my Father and friend, so close to my heart that I would miss Him if He were gone? Do I know Him well enough to miss the sound of His voice, the way He can make me laugh, our deep conversations and our silly ones, and all of the type of things I would miss if some earthly one who is dear to me passed away?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I began to think of our first parents. Created in the midst of perfection. There was no "need" for God in the fact that there was no sin to be rescued from, no brokenness, no hurt, no coping, no stress, no death, no financial lack or need at all, none of the things that we seem to think "I wouldn't know how to deal with ______ without God". He created us simply for fellowship. He does not need us. We do need Him. But do we want Him even more than we need Him? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A relationship, a deep, known, vulnerable, mutual relationship with an invisible God. We have made it such an unusual thing but we weren't made for anything else. I am so incredibly humbled. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-7857094974748500672?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/7857094974748500672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=7857094974748500672&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7857094974748500672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7857094974748500672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/04/love-or-need.html' title='Love Or Need?'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-4243372878329684191</id><published>2009-04-14T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T15:06:45.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; "&gt;&lt;span class="body" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; "&gt;"I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"&gt;~E.B. White&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-4243372878329684191?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/4243372878329684191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=4243372878329684191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4243372878329684191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4243372878329684191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/04/daily-decisions.html' title='Daily Decisions'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-853328863660968384</id><published>2009-03-24T21:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T22:14:04.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unwritten Travels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/ScmhRxD0gRI/AAAAAAAAAZg/S6pZelFQiJU/s1600-h/raised_beds283x217.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/ScmhRxD0gRI/AAAAAAAAAZg/S6pZelFQiJU/s320/raised_beds283x217.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316958161686790418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it has been forever since I blogged on my own blog. There has been no time. I am trying to rediscover myself at this point. In the busyness of life as a "grown-up" I spend very little time cultivating my own creativity anymore. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have just begun a book that a friend of mine wrote and it is perfect for this moment in my life. It is called "Unwritten Travels" and from the introduction alone my heart fluttered with the anticipation of going deeper into who I was created to be. It is a beautifully constructed guide to your own life. It is filled with thought-provoking questions that cause you to pause in the midst of life as you know it and re-connect with everything that makes you 'you'. I highly recommend it and I'm so excited to continue on my journey but pacing myself because I don't want it to end. You can find it at wwww.unwrittentravels.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I admit I am frustrated with our financial position in life right now and seeing how I am held back from so many things that I'd like to do because of money. I really want a garden (like I need another something to take care of right now, lol). I have for a while now, but I don't quite know where to begin and unfortunately our yard doesn't yield any fertile soil - it's mostly rock below. I also have the problem of not wanting to do anything little-by-little. If I don't have the ability to go all out in what I envision, I never start. For now I'l just hang on to my vision and practice putting effort into something that I may not get to pursue this year or this season. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-853328863660968384?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/853328863660968384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=853328863660968384&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/853328863660968384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/853328863660968384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/03/unwritten-travels.html' title='Unwritten Travels'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/ScmhRxD0gRI/AAAAAAAAAZg/S6pZelFQiJU/s72-c/raised_beds283x217.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-5316894375281828276</id><published>2009-01-20T22:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T22:55:49.903-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Loneliness</title><content type='html'>I saw "Last Chance Harvey" at the movie theater today. It was a sweet movie. Quiet, slow, and sweet. It really spoke to the vulnerability of the human heart and all of the daily heartache and burdens that we grow used to carrying. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I often forget just how lonely people are. How many people live with their thoughts and dreams kept mostly to themselves because there is no one in whom they would trust to care for such precious things. I am abundantly thankful for the husband, family, and friends that I have who listen to those things in my heart. And I invest my prayers and my heart into the many who don't have that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll listen to anything you want to say :) I'm a good listener.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-5316894375281828276?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/5316894375281828276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=5316894375281828276&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/5316894375281828276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/5316894375281828276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/01/loneliness.html' title='Loneliness'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-4355286538395689629</id><published>2009-01-03T12:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T12:14:14.348-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trip to the Library</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SV-q7sdiceI/AAAAAAAAARc/VHxOs6EThLQ/s1600-h/IMG_0804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SV-q7sdiceI/AAAAAAAAARc/VHxOs6EThLQ/s320/IMG_0804.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287132430080307682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-4355286538395689629?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/4355286538395689629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=4355286538395689629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4355286538395689629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4355286538395689629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/01/trip-to-library.html' title='Trip to the Library'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SV-q7sdiceI/AAAAAAAAARc/VHxOs6EThLQ/s72-c/IMG_0804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-2309749021705742512</id><published>2009-01-03T11:18:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T11:58:09.894-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spontaneity</title><content type='html'>"Spontaneity is an underappreciated dimension of spirituality. In fact, spiritual maturity has less to do with long-range visions than it does with moment-by-moment sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. And it is our moment-by-moment sensitivity to the Holy Spirit that turns life into an everyday adventure. Spiritual growth is a conundrum. The key to spiritual growth is developing healthy and holy routines. We call them &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;spiritual disciplines&lt;/span&gt;. But once the routine becomes routine, we need to disrupt it. Why? Because sacred routines become empty rituals when we do them out of left-brain memory instead of right-brain imagination." &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~Mark Batterson &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-2309749021705742512?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/2309749021705742512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=2309749021705742512&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/2309749021705742512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/2309749021705742512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2009/01/spontaneity.html' title='Spontaneity'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-3821960938187829000</id><published>2008-12-03T12:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T12:15:47.065-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Would I Do It Differently?</title><content type='html'>The thought I have been ruminating on this week is, "What if I knew when it would all end?" and if I knew, "what would I be doing differently?" I guess what I was most posing to myself was the question of whether I am letting circumstances, money, inconvenience stop me or postpone me from doing bigger things. To be truthful, I don't have the answer yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-3821960938187829000?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/3821960938187829000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=3821960938187829000&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/3821960938187829000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/3821960938187829000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/12/would-i-do-it-differently.html' title='Would I Do It Differently?'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-8353980904812422531</id><published>2008-11-11T20:21:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T20:41:46.491-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Make Me Laugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SRpCWukHSXI/AAAAAAAAAOU/oCgae36kQJU/s1600-h/10022048~Peter-Pan-and-Wendy-Float-A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SRpCWukHSXI/AAAAAAAAAOU/oCgae36kQJU/s320/10022048~Peter-Pan-and-Wendy-Float-A.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267595672387275122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long to one day be an author who makes people laugh. I am never so awed in fiction as when the author can captivate me with the story and create such detail of the characters or the atmosphere so that I laugh out loud. Some recent examples...now granted, this may only appeal to my humor but I was thoroughly amused.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Tink, where are you?' She was in a jug for the moment, and liking it extremely; she had never been in a jug before". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Certainly they did not pretend to be sleepy, they were sleepy; and that was a danger, for the moment they popped off, down they fell. The awful thing was that Peter thought this very funny. 'There he goes again!' he would cry gleefully, as Michael suddenly dropped like a stone". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The little house looked so cosy and safe in the darkness, with a bright light showing through its blinds, and the chimney smoking beautifully, and Peter standing on guard. After a time he fell asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home from an orgy. (hope that means something else) Any of the other boys obstructing the fairy path at night they would have mischiefed, but they just tweaked Peter's nose and passed on." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh there are so many more. Truly, pulled out of context I'm not sure those are even as funny as in the context of the entire story. J.M. Barrie was brilliant. Those are from Peter Pan if you have not figured it out yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For some reason the Lord has been urging me to read Peter Pan. It has been pursuing me over the last few months. I cannot recall every circumstance but all of a sudden Peter made himself a friend and familiar face in my life. How very like him. I have finished it. I'm still not entirely sure of the purpose or the point rather that God is trying to make to me but I think it has much to do with Wendy's character and the idea of the importance of mothers in the lives of children.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-8353980904812422531?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/8353980904812422531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=8353980904812422531&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/8353980904812422531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/8353980904812422531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/11/make-me-laugh.html' title='Make Me Laugh'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SRpCWukHSXI/AAAAAAAAAOU/oCgae36kQJU/s72-c/10022048~Peter-Pan-and-Wendy-Float-A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-4419670129675293338</id><published>2008-10-23T20:54:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T21:32:08.939-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lines</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SQEudjaFvzI/AAAAAAAAAK0/2ssaFmtlKYM/s1600-h/IMG_0095.JPG"&gt; &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SQEudjaFvzI/AAAAAAAAAK0/2ssaFmtlKYM/s320/IMG_0095.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260536925001203506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"All of these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am". - Brandi Carlile&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How is it that in one day I get mistaken for a teenager and I have this picture taken with such distinct age lines I can't even believe? It's not that I even hate the lines or fear them and what they might symbolize. It's just so new to see such physical proof that I am "growing up" and life is really happening all around me. I suppose I should be thankful for each and every time that someone thinks I'm 17, who knows if it will last. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-4419670129675293338?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/4419670129675293338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=4419670129675293338&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4419670129675293338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/4419670129675293338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/10/lines.html' title='Lines'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/SQEudjaFvzI/AAAAAAAAAK0/2ssaFmtlKYM/s72-c/IMG_0095.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-7937738650594789884</id><published>2008-10-19T20:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T23:49:47.009-05:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Things you Didn't Know About Me?</title><content type='html'>I'm going to try to list 100 little known things about me. Mny of these strange quirk are known by those closest to m but maybe I can throw in one or two to stump them ;) I think this is going to be harder than I think but here goes:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I can't drink milk from anyone's refrigerator but my own, even though I don't drink milk..I only have it in cereal or bake with it. But it grosses me out to drink milk anywhere else...even my parent's house so don't be offended.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I almost joined the National Guard-I probably would have done it if it weren't for the video of them coldly jabbing you with needles as you prepared for training. I conquered the idea of the gas chamber but the needles?...deal breaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I loved the name Henrietta when I was younger. I thought it was the most beautiful name I'd ever  heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I was 18 when I had my first kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I bet I could beat you in  burping contest...seriously&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I'm a rotten delegator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. I like noise. Background noise at least. The quiet makes me uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Of all the guys on Empire Records, I liked Joe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. I can quote the majority of the movie "Clueless"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. I'm a grammar fanatic, especially with words being pronounced correctly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. Once upon a time I was a very stubborn ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. I am extremely claustrophobic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. I was addicted to old school Nick at Nite. Taxi, Mary Tyler Moore, Get Smart, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. I used to read myself to sleep every night when I was little and before I got in bed I put the books in order of how I wanted to read them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. I have to eat a handful of skittles in order from least favorite to favorite: orange, yellow, purple, green, red&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. I cannot watch Christmas movies or listen to Christmas music until Thanksgiving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. I used to think winter was one of my favorite seasons and I have slowly become a summer girl. While I love the idea of cold weather and cozy fires and good smells the reality of heavy coats that you don't know what to do with once you get inside, cold sheets, cold floors when you wake up in the morning, getting dark at 4 p.m., completely unmotivate me to even get out of bed in the morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18. No matter how hard I try I cannot make my make-up routine longer than 15 minutes and usually more like 5.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. My ideal height has always been 5'6 and though I literally prayed every day for God to make me taller I am still only 5'2&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. I'm super sentimental and keep ticket stubs, notes passed in high school, letters I receive and copies of letters I write, old instant message conversations, etc etc. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21. I still sleep with an old stuffed animal named Rufus. He just fits perfectly right on my chest under my neck&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;22. I have always favored the underdog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23. I am a rule-follower. I am married to a risk taker. This means me getting very flustered when he decides to make a U-turn when I am staring at a sign with a U and a line through it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;24. I love justice and I hate it when people get way with things without paying the consequence. Of course exceptions are made if it is grace extended to them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25. I'm not much of a fan of a clean-shaven guy. I like scruff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26. I love coffee. Black&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27. Sometimes I go to Strabucks or Dunkin Donuts not because I feel the need for the caffeine but because I feel the need for a little something to look forward to&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28. I am very pragmatic. My husband has helped me become more of a dreamer but it's hard for me to invest my thoughts on something unless it is a near reality&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;29. I would love to live in Alaska for a few months. It's a dream of mine to see the Aurora Borealis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;30. I love the idea of going places but I hate the getting there. I get motion sickness and tired really easily when I travel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;31. I wonder if I'll ever live near the ocean again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;32. It's hard for me to break beyond what is comfortable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;33. I hate surprises (most of the time) I need time to prepare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;34. I'm a terrible procrastinator. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;35. I once told my sister to go to hell. It was a long time ago and I still feel bad about it if I think of it. Oh yeah which leads me to....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;36. I have a quick temper though it is much much better than it once was&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;37. My idea of romance is simple. I'd rather be home with  good movie and great conversation than dressed up and out at a frou-frou restaurant.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;38. I am very uncomfortable in fancy places. No matter who I'm with I never feel like I belong...even as simple a place as a nice salon/spa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;39. I hate being the center of attention. I like being behind-the-scenes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;40. Quality Time is my love language.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;41. I feel so much better when I have a tan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;42. I have stood at Platform 9 3/4&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;43. I only like movies and music that are happy. there's enough reality of heartbrokeness and death and loss in life so I want a movie with none of those things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;44. I usually have a list for every day of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;45. I hated the movie Titanic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;46. I usually hate the really popular movies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;47. I have gifts I am too afraid to use&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;48. I did not get along with my 1st grade teacher, 3rd grade teacher, 4th grade teacher, high school youth pastor, science teacher substitute, off and on with my Literature teacher, and my Biology teacher...think I had authority issues? Yup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;49. I once attempted to run away from 3rd grade because they were going to give my hamster's babies away. (they had been our class pet). I put those hamsters in my backpack and got as far as the bathroom before I realized I didn't know where else to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;50. I take 20-30 minute showers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;51. I love traditions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;52. I have a photographic memory...this and fairly good discernment are two of the things I am most thankful for in life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;53. I never went through a rebellious phase. A stubborn and slightly moody phase, yes but never rebellious. The Lord has always had my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;54. I think I fear rejection more than I ever realized even in circumstances or with people who I know would never reject me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;55. I really hate football. It's the only sport I just cannot get into. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;56. I have so many things I want to do in life but never spend enough time on one thing to accomplish it which is probably why I am usually reading 5 books at one time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;57. I wish fame didn't exist and that no one person was thought to be better or more interesting than anyone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;58. I almost never forget a face. Occasionally a name, though it is rare but never a face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;59. I have nothing to say when I'm in a big group but usually a lot to say one on one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;60. I love to love the unloveable&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;61. I have a few business ideas and just need the start-up money to do them&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;62. I love the Disney Channel!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;63. I have sat front row at 2 or 3 Harry Connick Jr. concerts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;64. Jayme thinks I have too many shoes...trust me I don't&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;65. I once threw my shoes at Jayme when he trapped me in the closet in an argument about wearing practical shoes to the zoo...hahahaha I'm laughing just remembering it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;66. I don't very often get told that I look like anyone famous...I very often get told that I look like my sister. I'll take it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;67. I love family vacations...I never laugh so hard!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;68. I hate crowds of people&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;69. I hate sleeping late (with a few exceptions), I always feel like the day is already gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;70. Everything in my purse or diaper bag has a very specific spot assigned to it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;71. I can be extremely organized and a little messy all at the same time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;72. I have texture issues with food. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;73. I have almost passed out many times but never actually blacked out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;74. I really got to that whole "screaming woman in labor" point with Evangeline. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;75. My heart breaks for every child who does not have someone who adores them unconditionally, cares for them, protects them, takes joy in them- and I know I am supposed to do something about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;76. I do NOT work well under pressure. If pressure's on I usually quit before I begin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;77. I can't stand it when things get super intense, be it a game, a movie, tv show. It takes everything in me not to change the channel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;78. I'm usually a fairly quiet person but when I'm around people I'm comfortable with I can get pretty loud...I know it's bad when &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;MY&lt;/span&gt; husband tells me to keep it down&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;79. I'm not competetive in the least&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;80. I have a lot of pity for people...even those who really don't deserve it. I can't help it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;81. I played basketball and softball once upon a time. I won Most Improved player in softball and I'm still not sure if that's a compliment ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;82. I have a habit of looking at the clock on the 53rd minute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;83. I love the color green&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;84. I adore seeing baby pictures of people. I just love to see the history of one life and I'm constantly amazed at how some traits we have have been with us for as long as we can remember. I enjoy God's unique creativity from person to person&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;85. Free people is my favorite brand of clothing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;86. I think I could literally buy every single thing in Anthropologie&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;87. I don't trust doctors very often...trying to be balanced in that&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;88. I have a lot of conspiracy theories and can be a little neurotic at times&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;89. I lock the doors to my car even if I'm only going inside for a minute&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;90. Wal-Mart gives me anxiety. I wait in the car any chance I can&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;91. Barnes and Noble is my peaceful place&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;92. I act like an idiot around people I really respect...I almost push them away, not sure why&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;93. Even though they put the words on the street backwards so you read it like "Bike Lane" or "Right Turn Only" I still read them as "Lane Bike" and "Only Turn Right" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;94. I suffer from inappropriate laughter syndrome&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;95. I remember falling alseep on the couch as a kid and groggily waking up as my dad carried me up the stairs to bed, usually because my foot hit the wall. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;96. I completely detest roller coasters. The stuff of nightmares for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-7937738650594789884?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/7937738650594789884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=7937738650594789884&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7937738650594789884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7937738650594789884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/10/100-things-you-didnt-know-about-me.html' title='100 Things you Didn&apos;t Know About Me?'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-1093294259269318630</id><published>2008-10-14T23:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T23:46:46.115-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Relecting on Deception</title><content type='html'>Dirty Dancing. Yes, the movie that makes all of us girls of the 80s and 90s go "awwww". I was randomly thinking about it the other night and how I watched it without a clue about most of what was going on, especially the abortion scence. I believe I was 7 the first time I saw it at my friend's birthday sleepover and have loved it ever since. I was thinking of that particular scene and how when I was younger I never understood why Baby's dad was so upset with her for having a "sick" friend. I didn't understand what they had asked him to do. I think about it now...how her parents were portrayed as old foagie stick-in-the muds. They didn't get it. They were dull with tradition. And oh how we all hated them for "putting Baby in a corner" and how we all cheered when Johnny rescued her from their cold grip. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How twisted. How incredibly backwards. The way they drew the characters you wanted to love what was evil and hate what was good. It's so hard for me to see the reality in a movie that is so sentimental to me but it just made me aware of how many times they do this in media. There is a word for it and Dr. Grant forgive me, but I can't remember! It's a word for when we glorify the criminal and detest the law, the right...all based on how their image is portrayed. Ocean's 11 for instance. Another favorite. But really?? I find myself rooting for the thief. Saddened when they're caught and anticipating their escape. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It all seems harmless enough. Do I feel like I have been influenced to the point of law-breaking or rebellion based on the subtleties? No, I don't. Has my image of what and who is interesting, intriguing, funny, or boring, stodgy, and tight been skewed as a result of media? Yes, I'd say so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-1093294259269318630?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/1093294259269318630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=1093294259269318630&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/1093294259269318630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/1093294259269318630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/10/relecting-on-deception.html' title='Relecting on Deception'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-5207227878478203382</id><published>2008-10-01T20:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:03:10.534-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stream of Consciousness</title><content type='html'>As I go through my days so many thoughts and rambling go through my head, I'm sitting now blankly trying to retrieve them from their buried hiding spots in the back of my mind. It's been a week or so since I've posted anything and I'm trying to stay on top of it. I suppose since so much has been going on in the realm of family my "family blog" has been more recently updated. I haven't had a lot of time to dwell on my own thoughts and focus inward. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the moment, Jayme is at church. Evangeline is sleeping (and not feeling well) and I just finished a bowl of tomato soup (a current favorite of mine) and sprouted english muffins with peanut butter. That's dinner. My laptop is still broken so I swipe Jaymes' most of the day. Alf is on t.v.! It's quite amazing that this show was as popular as it was. But because it's sentimental, I love it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though one of my primary thoughts these last few days has been pondering the demise of our culture with the growth of media. I can't say for sure that this is the leading cause of the downfall of moral standard and absolutes in our culture and generation, but I'm pointing my finger that way. It is truly nothing short of sick what we see and hear these days. This new show "Dirty Sexy Money" -hmmm, if the name doesn't say it all. And not long ago I saw a preview for Gossip Girl where the reviews promoted it from the angle of "a parent's worst nightmare". Nice. And it was even to my disappoint recently to see a clip from the new High School Musical 3 where a character was doing a sort of re-creation of 'Chicago' wearing a very skimpy outfit and dancing seductively. This, more than all may have upset me most simply because I know so many children who love the High school musicals and will undoubtably make the trip to the theater to see this one. It angers me for kids to have found a current movie that they can gravitate to, sing along with, and watch a hundred times over and to watch that movie and cast slowly subject itself to the same standard that everything else in Hollywood does, especially once it has already captured its audience. And I do mean capture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I know is that if our eyes stay on the media, not just Hollywood but even the news - local news, CNN, FoxNews, news entertainemt-John Stewart, Oprah, Bill Maher, The View, etc. we will have no hope and vision for the future. We'll see things how they see things. We'll see the future how they perceive it to happen. We'll rob ourselves of the ability to be surprised by God, we'll limit His ability to move...don't forget Jesus couldn't do miracles in his own home town because of the atmosphere of unbelief that resided there. He in all his sovereignty was unable to accomplish what He desired to do because of us. I myself need the reminder to watch what I'm watching. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See...I knew if I just started typing I'd find something to ramble about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-5207227878478203382?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/5207227878478203382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=5207227878478203382&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/5207227878478203382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/5207227878478203382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/10/stream-of-consciousness.html' title='Stream of Consciousness'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-5467495163433972426</id><published>2008-09-22T09:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T09:50:47.805-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Pursuit of Purpose</title><content type='html'>"The world has become an incubator of stress, depression, hopelessness, and fear. It seems that the kingdoms and the governmentsof this world are bankrupt. They no longer offer innovative soluions for these ever-increasing problems. Industrialized nations are as fragile as Third World nations. The tremendous changes in national and international situations, and the economic, political, social and cultural transitions that have accompanied these changes, now prsent a totally different golbal equation.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is also a generation in every nation that seems to have lost its sense of purpose. They are out of touch with the values, morals, and convictions that build strong families, secure communities, healthy societies and prosperous nations. Thus, the moral fabric of most societies is being stretched and tested to its outer limits. ..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;History shows that the value of life decreases and the quality of existence diminishes when a generation loses its sense of destiny and purpose. A quick glance at our current world exposes a sad picture that demands our attention. We preserve nature, for example, but kill babies. We build solid houses but cannot construct lasting homes. We are smarter but not wiser, bigger but not stronger. We know more but understand less, and we live longer but enjoy life less fully. We write more books but fail to take the time to read them. We go faster but get nowhere, conquer space but cannot conquer our habits, protect whales but abuse our children, go to the moon but wander far from home, and flirt with fantasy to avoid reality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The United States of America, the greatest nation in recent history, has come to a crossroads because of lack of national purpose."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Myles Munroe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-5467495163433972426?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/5467495163433972426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=5467495163433972426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/5467495163433972426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/5467495163433972426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-pursuit-of-purpose.html' title='In Pursuit of Purpose'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-6558850032012299706</id><published>2008-09-20T11:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T11:56:22.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Panic Sets In</title><content type='html'>Why do we live in the city of those most churches and have the smallest faith? Nashvillians seem to panic about everything. When it calls for snow we strip the grocery store shelves, stocking up on bread and water and all such necessities. We close our schools when the first flake hits the ground. At the threat of a tornado we haul everything out of closets and crawl in them ourselves. Of course I believe in taking precautions and I don't dare act in the presumption that "it will never happen to me" but half the time we cause our own problems as the simple result of our panic. For example, this gas crisis that would not be a crisis had we not acted in such haste.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;www.cnn.com/2008/US/09/19/nashville.gas/index.html?iref+24hours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-6558850032012299706?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/6558850032012299706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=6558850032012299706&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6558850032012299706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6558850032012299706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/panic-sets-in.html' title='Panic Sets In'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-7048668400116064327</id><published>2008-09-19T16:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T16:15:14.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To Be As We Are</title><content type='html'>"We have a large class of poor creatures, who, while not discontent with others, are discontent with themselves. They are not what they like to be, and they are not what they wish to be, and they don't feel as they should feel, and they don't think as they would like to think. They are always plunging their finger into their own eyes, because they cannot see as well as they wish, always ripping up the wounds they have, making themselves miserable in order that they may be happy, and at last, crying themselves into an inconsolable state of misery, they acquire a habit of mourning, until that mourning seems to be the only bliss they know". &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~Charles Haddon Spurgeon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-7048668400116064327?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/7048668400116064327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=7048668400116064327&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7048668400116064327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/7048668400116064327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title='To Be As We Are'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-12859057635690123</id><published>2008-09-13T11:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T11:07:00.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need A Library</title><content type='html'>It's official. I have more books than space to put them. It's against my good conscience and convictions to purge my collection. I was insulted even by Jayme's suggestion to box some of the ones I haven't read in a while or don't plan on reading any time soon. Can't do it. Next house we own...it's a requirement. Library.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-12859057635690123?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/12859057635690123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=12859057635690123&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/12859057635690123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/12859057635690123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-need-library.html' title='I Need A Library'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-6940110344416076211</id><published>2008-09-11T15:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T15:34:11.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If We Don't, Who Will?</title><content type='html'>It is past time for us to re-learn what it is to think for ourselves and to dust off our discernment and put it to use. This applies to so many circumstances in life but the one I will rant about in this blog is health-care. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was thinking the other day-what generation has been the healthiest? When there was little or no medical intervention, we suffered. We died sometimes in our 20's. Now when there seems, (in my opinion) to be too much medical intervention, we suffer. I look at our parent's and grandparent's generations. I think they had the balance. Life was still about hard-work and family. People spent time preparing meals, there were no microwaves, no pre-made meals, no mass-market produce with quality and purity sacrificed for preservatives and longer shelf-life a.k.a $$$. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When medical intervention was needed, it was more than a quick scribble on an Rx note. It was in-home healthcare that treated problems as they arose. It was an intimate assessment of one's life to find the actual cause behind the symptoms. It was a belief that the body was divinely created to fight off infections with the proper support. It was a time when nutrition was studied and considered to be a leading cause of health defects. Nutrition is currently 20% or less of a medical student's workload. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not to say that many things that have been discovered since are all bad...by no means. But we have gone to an extreme in a very short amount of time. Why didn't leave well enough alone? No one will make your health decisions for you. It is left up to us to do our research, to study ingredients, to use our brains. Should we be able to trust that anything we purchase from the grocery store would of course cause us no harm? Certainly, we should...but we can't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am, in a strange way, encouraged by these new commercials promoting High Fructose Corn Syrup. You know the ones where they paint the picture of the person oh so coyly ridiculing their friends for eating/drinking products with High Fructose Corn Syrup and then making them look like the fool who has no information to back up their argument. Yes, those. I am encouraged only in the fact that to feel the necessity to create these commercials, then we must be waking up to the potential hazards and be thinking for ourselves. Thank God! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will only dabble on the subject of Autism. All I am saying is that we &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;look for the reasons, the cause. Why in the last 10-20 years have we seen an absolutely astounding rise in a disease that before then, scarcely anyone had even heard of??? Could it be nutrition, could it be immunizations, could it be electromagnetic frequencies caused by cell phones, microwaves, etc.? Yes. It could be any. It could be all. We just have to ponder, have to ask, have to search. Have to pray. And possibly, have to make alterations to our lifestyles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-6940110344416076211?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/6940110344416076211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=6940110344416076211&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6940110344416076211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6940110344416076211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/if-we-dont-who-will.html' title='If We Don&apos;t, Who Will?'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-6300475497917068629</id><published>2008-09-11T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T10:46:55.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God for Coffee</title><content type='html'>This morning I breathed a quick and sincere prayer of thankfulness for coffee. For a small thing that helps make a bad day a little bit better. I'll also take this moment to promote Cafe Campesino where we buy ours. Fair Trade. Support it. www.cafecampesino.com &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-6300475497917068629?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/6300475497917068629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=6300475497917068629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6300475497917068629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/6300475497917068629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/thank-god-for-coffee.html' title='Thank God for Coffee'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-161626654684228932</id><published>2008-09-10T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T22:14:08.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much To Handle</title><content type='html'>My shoulders ache, my neck is tight, my whole body feels stiff when I roll out of bed these mornings. Isn't it amazing that our body reacts as if it were literally carrying a heavy load when in fact the load is not physical at all. Anything but. It is emotional, mental, spiritual, but not physical. I think it is a more than perfect example of how the things that we wage war against are not flesh and blood but spirit. A spiritual battle with very natural repercussions.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was reminded today of the fact that God draws near to us when we draw near to Him. A meeting in the middle if you will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remind myself that we are promised not to be given more than we can bear. Possibly because we are not meant to shoulder any of the burden. I am learning how to cast my burdens, and I think my shoulders will thank me for it. My chiropractor will miss me though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-161626654684228932?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/161626654684228932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=161626654684228932&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/161626654684228932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/161626654684228932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/too-much-to-handle.html' title='Too Much To Handle'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1264929749988902620.post-8003907034932556009</id><published>2008-09-10T00:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T00:37:30.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A First</title><content type='html'>There is something very freeing to know that I am writing to and for nobody at this particular moment yet it still has a much more vulnerable feel than if I were confiding in my journal alone. Chances are small that anyone but myself will ever pore over those pages. I'm not sure why I felt compelled to start a blog, and I'm not certain that I'll keep it up but it's worth a go. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is late. Past time to write with any sort of alertness and I stumble over my sloppy typing which, thankfully for the backspace, you will not have to endure. Let's just say it is taking me a lot longer than you'd think to type out these two paragraphs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't have any great hopes or expectations for this page beyond the enjoyment of the layout of my thoughts with a computer doing most of the laying-out. I am not antagonistic, manipulative, or argumentative so please do not receive my thoughts as invitation to a great debate. That is not my intent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you find yourself here, well here I am. A piece of me anyhow. It's good to know you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~Genevieve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1264929749988902620-8003907034932556009?l=theruminator2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/feeds/8003907034932556009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1264929749988902620&amp;postID=8003907034932556009&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/8003907034932556009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1264929749988902620/posts/default/8003907034932556009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theruminator2.blogspot.com/2008/09/first.html' title='A First'/><author><name>Jayme and Genevieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05228453102675390839</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_pNcrO4Qk78s/TMICpFuFD1I/AAAAAAAACWY/VxVYzfbj_4g/S220/IMG_6413.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
