<?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-10665741</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:21:48.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>64</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-113131879716550460</id><published>2005-11-06T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-06T15:25:54.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something I Would Have Never Expected</title><content type='html'>I wish I was posting more often than I am. It just seems like I alternate between being at work, feeling lonely and keeping my nephew. That and my precious time with God is what my life consists of now.&lt;br /&gt;I long for someone to share things with.  I long for someone to love me. I also long for someone to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a strange day. Someone who is my age and I always considered to have it all together, called me. She has a good job, great husband a 2 1/2 year old and a 5 month old. Not to mention a nice house. She met her husband at a Christian college. She called and asked me if I could watch her kids. She said she wasn't living at home right now and that she and her husband needed to get together and talk. I knew if the husband was at home with the kids and she was the one sleeping in a hotel, then she must have done something. I suspected what had happened but didn't figure it all out until last night. How can someone who has such a great family and such a great relationship with God, be unfaithful to her husband?&lt;br /&gt;I've seen so many families destroyed by affairs. I think Satan looks for any weak area he can to bring down Christians. If he sees the potential for an affair he jumps at the chance. That is something that we as Christians believe is a just cause for Divorce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this case my friends husband is prooving what an awesome guy he is. He is determined to work this out and have her come back home. He is working on forgiveness. If I was in his situation, I'm not sure if I could ever fully trust my spouse again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone still reads my blog, please pray for my friends. Pray that they will come out of this with a stronger marriage than ever. Pray for this to not affect the children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-113131879716550460?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/113131879716550460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=113131879716550460&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/113131879716550460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/113131879716550460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/11/something-i-would-have-never-expected.html' title='Something I Would Have Never Expected'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-112578758337776044</id><published>2005-09-03T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T16:12:12.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusion</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about what to write for over a week now. If I wrote everything I was feeling, it would be all complaining and whining. I'll try to go easy on the complaining, but I need to get some stuff off of my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job is not totally what I expected. I know that being a preschool teacher is hard work. I expected that. I never expected to have a director who was, well, basically a dictator.&lt;br /&gt;It gives me a new appreciation for the Director I had when I worked in a preschool before. She lovingly guides her employees and is there to help them. She is not there to put them down, make them feel like they are bad people, or discourage them. She is there to encourage. She does not dictate how everything is to be done. She let's teachers be individuals with their own styles. There is a clear definition of who the teachers are. They do not change every other week as they do in team teaching. They are expected to love the children, and prepare them for school. Not try to revert back to acting like a child and being forced to participate in child activities. I feel that a teacher's job is to observe the children and provide them with a safe environment in which to learn, and allow them to learn from each other. I do think that a teacher's job is to teach, but that is through instruction. I do not believe in putting restrictions on the way children are allowed to learn. I believe in not only preparing a child for kindergarten, but sending them on to school with a love and a passion for learning. I believe in teaching to a child's potential, and challenging children who need to be challenged, not teaching them the bare basic's that they need to get by. A director should be loved by the children. She should never yell at a child. A child should not feel inimidated by a director and should not be afraid to go talk to them. A director should also never pit employees against each other. And a director should not show favortism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few of my observations from my first few weeks of teaching.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-112578758337776044?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/112578758337776044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=112578758337776044&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112578758337776044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112578758337776044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/09/confusion.html' title='Confusion'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-112355466523716829</id><published>2005-08-08T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T19:31:05.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since I have updated.  I'm working from 10 a.m. until 6 p.m. now and  things have been crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my job, I love being around the Elderly people, and I love the children I work with.  I am not very fond of my supervisor.  But I guess there is always going to be something I don't like, no matter where I work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an adventure this past Saturday.  I was home alone this weekend, it started storming.  I was starting to worry a little since I don't like storms, when the lights went out.  Seconds after that, I saw this huge flash right outside my living room window.  I heard a pop and a sizzle noise and then this big boom and my house shook.  Sometime in this middle of this, I got up off the couch and the next thing I remember I was laying  spread eagle on my living room floor.  Then I realized that I smelled a burning smell.  Kind of like a hot electrical kind of smell.  So, I immediatly thought that my house was on fire.  I called 911.  Less than two minutes later I heard sirens.  Four fire trucks and the Fire Chiefs SUV came. I was a little confused when they started to stop in front of my house, but pulled on in front of my neighbors.  I was scared to be in my house, but it was hailing and lightning so bad that I was scared to be outside.  I was standing on the threshold between my front door and the front porch.  I noticed that the fireman weren't getting out of the one truck I could see.  I finally yelled at them, then they realized they had been sent to the wrong house.  Anyway, by then I couldn't smell anything anymore.  They went all through my house, checked everything anf couldn't find anything.  However, they said that by what I described and what I smelled that it must have either struck my house or right nearby.    The Chief said that God must have been with me.  Basically we don't know where it hit or why my house didn't burn.  The firemen were awesome and very concerned.  They also helped me calm down.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my neighbor came over.  I told him about what happened and about the firemen going to his house first (he wasn't home).  He said that his tv and vcr got ruined.  He also said he was glad I had called the Fire Department because it must have hit around his house also or gotten both of ours at the same time or something.  He said his house could have been on fire also, and he wouldn't have been home to know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to thank God enough for sparing my house and my neighbors house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two hours after it happened, after the adrenalin wore off, I realized that my left knee really, really hurt.  I looked and found out that it was turning purple.  Apparently when I hit the floor I landed on my left knee first. I also have a small scrape on my right elbow that I didn't notice.    My knee is bothering me quite a bit, but I think it's just bruised.  I still don't know why I fell. I know that when I got up my heart was beating harder than it ever has and I was trembling all over.  I don't know if I got a little bit of a shock or what.  I don't remember falling I just remember being in the floor and getting back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm up later than usual ( I got to bed really early now).  I'll try not to go so long between updates this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-112355466523716829?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/112355466523716829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=112355466523716829&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112355466523716829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112355466523716829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/08/long-time.html' title='Long Time'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-112130263362720217</id><published>2005-07-13T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T17:57:13.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhaustion</title><content type='html'>Working full time is wearing me out.  I know I'll get used to it though.  I've also got to get used to never getting anything done during the week.  Currently I leave my house about 7:20 to get across town and to work by 8:00.  So far it has taken 20 or 25 minutes.  During the day it takes at least 30.  I think that in the morning I am going the opposite way of a lot of people.  I have a feeling that my commute time will increase once MTSU starts back.  I get off at 4:00, and get home around 4:30.  Once things get up and running at work, I may have to go in at 7 a.m. or as early as 6 a.m.  I really hope the 6:00 thing doesn't happen much.  I also will have to work some Saturdays.  Which will give me a 6 day workweek.  Oh well, those hours would be overtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for my drug test yesterday.  I was being paid for the time I spent at the clinic.  Anyway, I have never had a drug test before.  I thought it would be like when you get tested for a UTI and you only have to pee a little, wrong!  You have to pee quite a bit.  Anyway, I go back there, am shown to the bathroom, notice the blue water in the toilet, am puzzled by it, then realize it's so you can't dilute your pee.  Of course, I only peed about a half or less of the required amount.  By law when this happens, they throw out your pee and you must start all over.  I have a real problem with that.  I think they should just add to it until you have enough.   I'm sure that there is a reason for that though.  So, then I am shown cups and a water cooler. Over a period of an hour or so, I consumed 8 glasses of freezing cold water.  I sat out in the waiting room and shivered while waiting for my water to "move through."  My water took it's time.  Various workers kept asking if I was ready yet?  Several people came and did drug tests, they got it right the first time and left.  I was still sitting there. Finally after about an hour and a half (and being the only patient left) I decide to give it a try.  Well, this time I peed over twice as much as needed.  I carried my collection cup out to  the tech. and triumphantly said "look, I did it!"  I think I was more excited about filling my pee cup then I was about getting my job.  Now I must cross my fingers and hope none of my presciption meds make it test positive.  This can be fixed by putting them in contact with your doctor, but still, I hope it doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave you with a conversation I had with a resident today: M = Me, R = Resident&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;              M - "How are you today?"&lt;br /&gt;R - "I'm mighty fine."  "Hey I know you!"  "Did you know I'm almost 86 years old?"&lt;br /&gt;M - "I met you yesterday."  "Thats Great!"&lt;br /&gt;R - "watch what I can do" (he proceeds to stand up)&lt;br /&gt;"I don't need no walker or cane, I can walk all by myself and I'm almost 86!"&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think you'll be able to do that when your my age?"&lt;br /&gt;M -" Your doing great for almost 86 " "I just hope I live to be your age"&lt;br /&gt;R-  (lays down on couch)&lt;br /&gt;M - "you fixing to go to sleep?"&lt;br /&gt;R- "I don't sleep, I just rest, I'm almost 86, I just rest"&lt;br /&gt;M - "Do you sleep at night?"&lt;br /&gt;R- "Yes, last night I was up five times"&lt;br /&gt;M- "Did you have to use the bathroom?"&lt;br /&gt;R- "no, I just needed to walk the hall.  I was looking for some good lookin Women.  They was all asleep though."&lt;br /&gt;M - "I'm sorry"&lt;br /&gt;R - "Hey, did you know that I'm almost 86 and I know 3,000 songs." "bet you don't know that many."&lt;br /&gt;M- "Wow that's a lot of songs, well I need to get going." (Fearful that he will begin singing all 3,000 songs. I was later told he would!)&lt;br /&gt;R- "See you later"&lt;br /&gt;M - "You have a good day!"&lt;br /&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/10665741-112130263362720217?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/112130263362720217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=112130263362720217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112130263362720217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112130263362720217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/07/exhaustion.html' title='Exhaustion'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-112069878989276288</id><published>2005-07-06T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T18:13:09.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's peace</title><content type='html'>There is a man, Jeremy, at my church who I greatly admire.  Jeremy has made a lot of mistakes in his life.  Mostly drugs and alcohol.  Jeremy is a husband and a father of 2 or 3 kids (not sure how many).  On Monday (July 11'th) Jeremy begins serving a 4-10 month sentence in Jail.  He is a very brave and sincere person.  He also has a great love for the Lord. &lt;br /&gt;Jeremy and his family began coming to Stones River 3 or 4 months ago.  He plays drums in our praise band.  He stood up tonight and gave on of the best testimonies I have ever heard.   He said that he knew what he had done was wrong.  He also said he would not go back and change it if he could because then he wouldn't be where he is today.  He said his family has never been happier.  He also said that he was raised Baptist and people ask him why he swiched denominations. His reply to this is "I didn't switch denominations.  We all love the same God and that's what matters."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy went on to say that out of all the Church's they could have gone to, they chose Stones River.  They chose Stones River because of the members love for each other and because they are not judgemental and are accepting.  He said he felt a lot better about leaving knowing that we are taking care of his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that was so awesome was that Jeremy could have kept fighting his sentence.  He told his Lawyer that he was willing to take whatever the judge gave him because it was God's will.  He feels he is going on a mission trip of sorts.  That God must want him in Jail for a reason. That there must be someone or some people who God needs him to minister to while in jail.  He is at peace with his sentence because of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were some tears shed tonight, and we gathered around Jeremy and his family and prayed for them.  I plan to write to Jeremy while he is in jail. I plan to tell him what a brave person I think he is.  Most of all I plan to tell him what an inspiration his faith in God is to me.  If I was in his situation I don't know that I could view it the same way he does.  Obviously, that is a part of my needing to learn to better trust God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Father,&lt;br /&gt;Please be with Jeremy and his family over the next few months.  Help Jeremy to be strong and to remember you are with him.  Be with other's who are in jail with Jeremy. Help them to see you in him and to want to learn more about you.  Thank you for helping Jeremy to straighten out his life. &lt;br /&gt;Give Jeremy's wife strength while he is away.  Help things to go smoothly for her.  Please let Stones River be able to take care of her and her children while Jeremy is away.  Be with Jeremy's children.  It's going to be hard having their Daddy gone.  They may not all understand why he is gone, but let them look back on this one day and realize what a great person their dad was during this time in his life.  Help them realize that his Love for you allowed him to face up to his sins and do his time.&lt;br /&gt;I ask these things in your son's name,&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;br /&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/10665741-112069878989276288?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/112069878989276288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=112069878989276288&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112069878989276288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112069878989276288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/07/gods-peace.html' title='God&apos;s peace'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-112042999098841393</id><published>2005-07-03T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T15:33:10.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I look for in a guy</title><content type='html'>I went to lunch with some people after church today. During lunch the conversation somehow turned to me being asked what I look for in a guy. The only reply I had at the time was "I'm picky." Which is true. I have to be picky, I am a Christian Woman. Whoever I date must respect me and respect God enough not to push things physically further than we should go. I've also said before that I look for a guy who is "real." My definition of that is someone who acts the same at Church as they do at home. Not someone who acts like a Christian at Church and then goes home and is someone completly different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my last post I stated, "I know exactly what I don't want in a guy, and I know that he must be a Christian. I know a lot of people don't feel this is important, but I want someone who is a member of the Church of Christ and has similar beliefs to mine about worship."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, in another post I said this, "Someone who admits he's not perfect, but strives to be a good man. Someone that respects me and makes me feel good about myself. Most importantly, I 'm looking for someone who loves Christ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that I've talked about dating and my desire to find the right man in other posts, those two are just a couple of examples."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physically I like a wide range of guys, of course, I think being attracted to someone physically is an important part of a relationship. If you find them repulsvive, you're not going to be very happy. I like guys who smell good (not like they bathed in cologne, but clean, like they know what soap is). I like guys who take care of themselves (excercise - sp?, take showers,etc...) Oh, and wearing deodarent is a must.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, hopefully that answers that question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family is gone until Saturday. I feel like such a looser cause all I have to do is keep my nephew and work on the August Bicycle ride. I really need to get a life.&lt;br /&gt;I went shopping yesterday and got a couple of pairs of scrubs for work. Scrubs are expensive. The place I went was supposed to be an outlet. I don't think they were much, if any, cheaper though. In a month or two I'm going to need new shoes. I've been wearing the same pair of New Balance's for about 3 years now. They are starting to get worn out, even though I don't wear them that often. That will have to wait until I have the money for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my little sister's birthday. She's celebrating tonight at the beach with my parents. She's 11 now. Seems like only yesterday that I was holding her for the first time. I fed her in the hospital when she was eight hours old. She was such a sweet baby. Now she is a sweet girl, almost young woman. She is so smart. I hope she keeps learning and knows that there is nothing she can't do. I pray for her purity, as she get's older and starts experiencing more of life. I also hope that she always loves God. I know that as she get's older, she is going to wonder more and more about her birth mother (she is adopted). She hasn't asked about it in a while, but I know she thinks about it some. I wish my parent's would go ahead and tell her. She know's she is adopted and I am so scared of her finding out about her birth mother from someone else. A lot of people know, especially people at my parent's church. I can't even imagine how much it would hurt for her to find out on accident. We are supposed to wait and tell her when she asks. I just don't want to wait until she's a teenager and is looking for reason's to be mad at my parents and she's all hormonal and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I experienced a hurt, that I think all parent's experience at one time or another (but I'm not a parent). My little sister got mad at me and my mom because we wouldn't let her wear these old shorts and shirt to church Wednesday night. I heard her tell my mom "I hate you and I hate Sarah, you are both mean." Then she went to her room and I guess pouted. I believe I uttered "I hate you" a couple of times when I was growing up. I never realized, that even though you know they don't mean it, it still makes your heartache to hear that come out of what was once such a sweet and pure mouth. Oh, what I have to look forward to over the next few years!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-112042999098841393?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/112042999098841393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=112042999098841393&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112042999098841393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112042999098841393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/07/what-i-look-for-in-guy.html' title='What I look for in a guy'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-112009403831864706</id><published>2005-06-29T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T18:13:58.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Down</title><content type='html'>I did a bunch of stuff today.  I saw Stephanie, a woman who's little boy I keep sometimes.  Stephanie and Andy (her husband) are my age, they met at Harding University and now they live here. Stephanie just had a baby girl 7 weeks ago. &lt;br /&gt;Things are going good for me right now, so why do I feel lonely and down in the dumps?  I was around people at Church tonight and I talked to people, but I still felt really alone for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;I've talked about this before, but I see people my age that have good marriages and babies, and I can't help feeling a little jealous. That's what I want more than anything.  I just have this really strong longing to be with someone and to get married.  Maybe it's my biological clock ticking or something, but being single is really starting to get old. &lt;br /&gt;I had to go to a friends from the Bicycle Club's  office today to run 2,750 copies of the Flyer.  It will be mailed out next week.  Buying the paper myself, and using Brenda's work copier (a big one just like at Kinko's) saved over $400.00.  Normally at Kinko's that many copies runs me about $500.00.  So, I am proud of myself. &lt;br /&gt;While I was at her office I saw this guy, then I did a double take and looked at him again.  He was the same height (6'6"), same build (very skinny) and same hair color (brown), and even close to the same facial features, as my ex Fiance.  It was really freaky.  Except this guy was cuter than Bryan and when he smiled at me, he looked nothing like him.  Bryan never really smiled. &lt;br /&gt;Bryan was a big mistake.  I rushed into the relationship, got engaged way to fast, and then saw his uncaring,  hurtful side.  I thank God that I didn't marry him.  Bryan broke up with me when my broken arm was at it's worst, right before my second surgery on it.  I wasn't fun enough, and didn't want to do enough (I had a washer end of a screw poking out my arm from the inside...much, much pain).  The funny thing was that when we broke up, I felt more relieved than anything.  I had known that I couldn't marry him.  I saw that the day after I broke my arm, but I blamed it on all the painkillers I was on.  I had surgery about a week or two after we broke up, they removed the screw from my arm at that time, and I got off painmed's right away.  So basically, I was back to my normal self, about 2 weeks after we broke up. &lt;br /&gt;It really hurts to have someone look you in the eye and say that they don't love you anymore.  Even though I knew I didn't love him, I'm not sure that I ever loved him.  I thought I was through with guys and I would just be single forever.  About a year after things ended with Bryan, I started feeling ready for a relationship.  now, three years later, here I am still waiting on that relationship. &lt;br /&gt;One reason I'm still waiting is that I am super picky now.  I know exactly what I don't want in a guy, and I know that he must be a Christian.  I know a lot of people don't feel this is important, but I want someone who is a member of the Church of Christ and has similar beliefs to mine about worship.  I know I could date right now, if I would settle for less than what I want, but I want someone who I can see Christ in, and I'm not going to settle for less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-112009403831864706?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/112009403831864706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=112009403831864706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112009403831864706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/112009403831864706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/feeling-down.html' title='Feeling Down'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111992192317123155</id><published>2005-06-27T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-27T18:25:23.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No, But I've Got A Nephew</title><content type='html'>I went forward in Church yesterday to have announced that I got my job.  I think people need to remember to praise God when good things happen, and not just pray when things are bad.  Chuck, who made the anouncement was reminding people how badly I had needed a job with benefits.  He said, "...and she's got a child."  I said, "No, I've got a nephew."  Everyone laughed and it was pretty funny. I thought everyone knew that he was Nephew, I guess he didn't.&lt;br /&gt;Had the college group over for lunch yesterday, only six of them came.  It ended up being really good though, and we all got to sit at the same table since there wasn't many of us.  Also, some of the guys went back for 3'rds, and if we had had a lot of people, I think we might not have had enough food.  We watched the video from our retreat a few months ago.  I hope we have another retreat this fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized today that I have alot to do before I start my job.  I want to get as much done for H.O.T. 100 (bike ride in August) as I can before I start my job.  I also need to go buy some Scrubs.  I found out that there is a Uniform outlet not far from here, that has a big selection of Scrub's cheaper than most places.  I'm gonna go there next week.  I copied my diploma's (High school and college) and got a copy of my college transcript today.  I have to have those for work.  I'm going to take those and my Infant and Child CPR certification card out to work tommorow and pick up some reference letters that I have to get people to fill out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is weird, but I have not had a moskito (sp?) bite in about five years.  I think because I am Anemic so much and they must not like my blood like that.  Well, I have a moskito bite.  It's small, not all swollen up like they used to get (I'm guessing this is because of my immunosuppresent, my body must not be reacting to the bite or something) But it does itch.  I guess they like me again.  I had gotten used to not having to worry about them biting me. Before, they would land on me and then fly right off without biting.  Maybe they should try and discover what the moskitos were sensing and bottle it as repelant?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111992192317123155?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111992192317123155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111992192317123155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111992192317123155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111992192317123155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/no-but-ive-got-nephew.html' title='No, But I&apos;ve Got A Nephew'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111965055462579460</id><published>2005-06-24T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T15:02:34.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise God!</title><content type='html'>I got my job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They called me this afternoon. I will be working in their new daycare with preschool kids. Community Care is in the process of implimenting the "Eden Alternative." It promotes family, and community and havning a purpose. Instead of an Elderly person laying in bed all day waiting to die, they are gotten out of bed and they have different opportunites to participate in activities. The preschool kids will be interacting with the elderly people.&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed that when my grandparents are around my nephew they seem to come alive. They are happier and seem to feel better when he is around. That is what it will be like for the residents at Community Care. You can read more about the Eden Alternative here: &lt;a href="http://www.edenalt.com"&gt;www.edenalt.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111965055462579460?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111965055462579460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111965055462579460&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111965055462579460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111965055462579460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/praise-god.html' title='Praise God!'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111963525218343987</id><published>2005-06-24T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T10:51:20.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Title</title><content type='html'>I read a lot of different Blogs.  One of my favorite's is  &lt;a href="http://www.brandonscottthomas.blogspot.com"&gt;http://www.brandonscottthomas.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brandonscottthomas.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I hope I did that right.  I discovered a nifty little button that says "insert link."&lt;br /&gt;His last two posts have been especially good. About stepping out of your comfort zone, and also about admitting that we as Christians have failed some groups of people. No matter what someone has done in the past, they can still be saved.&lt;br /&gt;I think Church's as a whole, fail to welcome people who are different. Some people feel that they have lived their life so wrong and done so many things that they know are wrong, that it is too late.&lt;br /&gt;God has an amazing ability to forgive and forget. I think I've written about this before, but God doesn't care what you've done. Jesus welcomed all people into his arms, and he still does. That's what God's Grace is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brandon say's it so much better than me. If you have time, go read his site.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111963525218343987?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111963525218343987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111963525218343987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111963525218343987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111963525218343987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/no-title.html' title='No Title'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111922956620553251</id><published>2005-06-19T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T23:06:09.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day</title><content type='html'>Church this morning was great. We talked about our earthly father and also our heavenly father. It's easy to forget God on Father's Day. While we give our father's ties and other dad type gifts, we need to remember to thank God for all he does for us. As a father, he made the biggest sacrifice that their is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my job interview on Friday at the Nursing home. I think I need to devote a whole post to that, so I'll write about it later. I also talked to Mark (the administrator) at church today. He said that even if I don't get hired for their daycare program, he would find me a job there. It might be cleaning rooms or something, but it's worth it for the benifits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my last post I had a comment from a guy I went to Elementary school with. At first I couldn't figure out how he knew who I was, then I remembered that Clark has a link to my site on his. Such a small world, that a guy I knew 20 years ago would happen upon my blog. Anyway, I think I remember who he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While most were celebrating Father's day today, my dad was on a plane on the way back from Utah. He just finished cycling around the state. He should be home in an hour or so. Thursday he leaves for Washington State, again to bicycle . Then the day after he get's home from that trip, my mom, sister and dad leave for the Beach. I could have gone, but that many hours in the car with them is really not fun for me. Plus, hopefully my job will come through. I went on Vacation last fall by myself. I had a great time. I did want I wanted to do, ate when I was hungry, slept when I was tired, layed out by the pool and read a book, ordered room service, and stopped whenever I needed to stop during the drive there and back. That is my idea of a vacation. I doubt I'll be going anywhere this year, but there is always next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111922956620553251?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111922956620553251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111922956620553251&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111922956620553251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111922956620553251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/fathers-day.html' title='Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111862786719324761</id><published>2005-06-12T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T18:57:47.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trusting in God</title><content type='html'>I went forward  in church this morning.  After the bad week I had last week, I was just feeling really broken.  Like I was trying to hold it all together, but inside I was a mess.&lt;br /&gt;I had an opportunity earlier this week, to go to nursing school in Nashville.  That happened about the same time I got my TennCare papers.  School is just not an option right now because of my health insurance situation.  But since then, when I ask God what I'm supposed to do, I keep hearing that little voice in me saying "trust me."  I can't help wondering that if maybe I had trusted God and gone to school in Nashville, maybe everything would have worked out.&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I was pretty upset, thinking about what if I had messed up? What if by not trusting God I had screwed up everything?  I asked for prayers this morning for my insurance situation, and for my job situation.&lt;br /&gt;I sat through the sermon knowing that I needed to go forward.  I knew that what is going on is not something I can face alone.  Two men at my church went up also, for different reasons.  One is someone I have known a while and care very much about. All three of us were crying and people were gathered around us and prayers were said.  I felt such a relief to get all of it out in the open.  There is no way I could have gone up like that at my old church.  For one thing, I never felt like anyone there cared, and the church is so big it would have been really intimidating.&lt;br /&gt;When church was over, my preachers brother came up to me.  He is an administrator at a local nursing home.  He said that if I want it, there is a job for me at the nursing home, with full benefits!  I'm going there tommorow to talk to him about it.  All I can say is, praise God!  He humbled me and made me ask for help, then he provided an answer to my problems. &lt;br /&gt;I feel so blessed to be a part of Stones River Church.  Every time I am there, it becomes more evident that I'm in the right place.  God put me there for a reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all you do in my life.  You never stop amazing me with your love.  Be with me as I go talk to Mark tomorrow about the job.  Let this be an answer to my prayers.  God please be with Steven and Steve.  They both came forward when I did this morning.  They have specific area's in their lives where they need you.   God get them past what they are going through.  God help me to trust in you more.  Help me to put my relationship with you first. &lt;br /&gt;Please be with Ashleigh.  We took her to camp today.  It's her first week long camp.  Leaving her was not easy.  Give us peace of mind, and keep her safe.&lt;br /&gt;In your son's name,&lt;br /&gt;amen&lt;br /&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/10665741-111862786719324761?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111862786719324761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111862786719324761&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111862786719324761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111862786719324761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/trusting-in-god.html' title='Trusting in God'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111820855912026732</id><published>2005-06-07T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T22:29:38.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying</title><content type='html'>I feel like I want to cry. For some reason I've been holding it in since saturday. It's going to come out, I just am not ready to let go yet.&lt;br /&gt;I got my letter from nursing school. I'm an alternate. I realize this is further than a lot of people get. I studied my butt off for the test I had to take just to get an interview. I got my interview, and I had to answer so many questions. I answered them all honestly, I was honest about my health, and I couldn't have done any differently. So unless some person for some reason drops before class starts in a month, and I happen to be the first alternate, no nursing for me.&lt;br /&gt;Today I got my Tenncare letter. Until today I could pretend that maybe I wasn't one of the ones loosing their coverage. Maybe for some reason the Tenncare people would let me keep mine. I have papers I have to send back, but from reading the stuff I'de say my tenncare is gone. I'm not being negative, it was there in black and white. I don't qualify for medicaid, I don't have children, i'm not in a nursing home...&lt;br /&gt;The insurance hurts so much more than the nursing school thing. Sure I'm upset about school, but I don't know how to live without health insurance. Maybe I'm naive and dumb, but this is the first time I've really felt like my government has failed me. And it hurts. It hurts so much.&lt;br /&gt;It's hard for me to have faith and to put my trust in God when it seems like my life is falling apart.&lt;br /&gt;I know I sound like I feel sorry for myself. Tonight I do. In the morning, more than likely I won't, but tonight I need to let this all out.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so scared about where my life is headed. Why do so many bad things happen to me? Why do bad things seem to happen all at once?&lt;br /&gt;I just want God to take this pain away and take these burdens away from me. God doesn't give us more than we can bare, but I feel like I'm at the breaking point.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being sick, tired of being single, tired of feeling alone, just tired of everything.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I wasn't alone now, I need someone to hold me and just let me cry. I've cried a little while typing this, but not like I need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my point to all my rambling is God, please take some of these worries off of me, take them all. Help me to stop feeling so empty. God let me find a job soon. Most of all thank you, because I know, that even though I don't see them or feel them, your arms are wrapped around me right now, holding me tight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111820855912026732?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111820855912026732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111820855912026732&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111820855912026732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111820855912026732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/06/crying.html' title='Crying'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111751137147405103</id><published>2005-05-30T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T20:49:31.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reunion</title><content type='html'>Saturday night was my Class reunion.  It wasn't as bad as I had prepared myself for it to be.  There was 12 or 13 of us there.  Plus a few husbands/wives.  Nobody brought dates.  We mostly just stood around and talked. It was on the fifteenth floor balcony of our only skyrise here.  It was a great view, especially at sunset.  I still don't feel nearly as accomplished as everyone else,  and I definatly don't have as much money as most of them, but I think I'm just as happy if not happier. &lt;br /&gt;Afterward, four of us who were single and didn't have kids to go home to, went out.   We went to this bar over by where the outlet mall used to be.  Yes, I went to a bar. No, I didn't drink.  I was the only one not drinking, but I'm used to that.  I go to a bar about once every five years.  That smoky, drunk atmosphere is not really me.  This place was full of rednecks and skanky women.  Also, I think I inhalled enough second hand smoke to last me another five years. &lt;br /&gt;    A high school crush was revived saturday night. It's amazing that after 10 years, I still have the same feelings from high school for this guy.  Who knows if anything will ever happen with us.  I probably won't see him again until our 20 year reunion.  I've been pondering if he's even someone that I need to date.  I mean he's nice and all and he does go to Church.  But, I know way to well that just going to church means nothing.  It's how a guy acts away from church that matters to me.  I'm not looking for a guy who cleans up real nice, and seems like a strong christian at church, and then turns around the rest of the week and cusses and get's drunk, and acts totally different. I'm not saying that this guy is like that.  He may not be at all, I just don't know.  I'm looking for someone who is real.  Someone who admits he's not perfect, but strives to be a good man.  Someone that respects me and makes me feel good about myself.  Most importantly, I 'm looking for someone who loves Christ. &lt;br /&gt;    I try my best to be a real person. Someone who acts the same no matter where I am.  I do have a lot of layers to myself.  Parts of me that I don't let many people into.  Mostly because they involve hurt and pain and grief.  I also may not be as talkative in some situations as in others.  I guess I'm trying to say that I don't go  to church pretending to be some super person who never sins.  I'll admit I've made mistakes in my life.  I've learned from these mistakes, and they've made me who I am today.  That's what I like about my church versus where I used to go to church.  No one at my church is afraid to admit that they aren't perfect.  I'm not afraid of what other's think of me.  I don't feel like anyone is judging me or looking down on me.   I feel like that's how Jesus was.  He didn't care who you had been in the past.  He loved you anyway and he welcomed everyone with open arms.   Well, it's not how Jesus was, it's how he still is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;Today was Memorial day.  I picked a few flowers from my garden and went to my nephews grave.  He would be five and a half now.  I know he would be so excited to have a little brother.  His grave is at Coleman Cemetary.  It's a little cemetary out old Woodbury Hwy.  Uncle Dave Macon (a well known guy here, not my uncle) is burried out there also.  It's weird, Uncle Dave's son used to rent a room from my great, great  grandparents.  Uncle Dave came and ate dinner with them some, and later his son came at ate with my Grandparents and my mom and her brother.  I think it's strange how in that little cemetary there is a connection that occured totally by accident.&lt;br /&gt;I put my flowers on Christians grave, then I was at a loss for words.  I haven't been out there in over six months.  Not since my nephew (the one I babysit a lot) was born.  There was just so much I wanted to tell him, but I couldn't get most of it out.  I wanted to cry, but there was some older man and another guy walking around the cemetary and I just didn't feel as alone with him as I needed to be.  Maybe it's silly to visit someones grave and to talk to it, since they aren't even in there anymore, but it's where I feel the most connected to him.  It's hard to go out there, it brings back so many memories.  I know that he could not have lived, I know that if by some miracle he had, he would have suffered greatly.  I'm glad that God took him while he was being born, before he suffered.  I only knew him as the baby who kicked my hand from inside my sister's womb and as the baby who layed peacefully in my arms and only looked like he was sleeping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111751137147405103?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111751137147405103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111751137147405103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111751137147405103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111751137147405103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/reunion.html' title='Reunion'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111715655294368781</id><published>2005-05-26T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-26T18:15:52.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulled Muscle</title><content type='html'>I think I pulled a muscle in my back at yoga/pilates last night.   I didn't have my nephew last night so I went to an extra class at Patterson Park.  Yes, I skipped church to do it.  Sometimes I need to think about God in different ways.  When I am totally concentrating on my breathing or trying to balance and not fall over, I can feel God there.  When I contort myself into some strange new yoga position, I find myself thinking in awe about how God made our bodies capable of doing so much. To think of all that went on in designing the human body and all the fine details, what an enormous job!  When Adam and Eve were in the garden of Eden, their bodies were perfect.  God had made a perfect being.   Now  our bodies have problems.  We get sick, and we get old.  We as Christians have the upper hand on non Christians.  One day our bodies will be perfect again.  We'll be in a perfect place.  I myself am looking forward to no more pulled muscles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I got out of class last night, I thinking of going home, eating and going to bed.  As I neared my car, I thought I heard a faint ringing noise.  It got louder as I pushed the button to unlock my doors.  My cell phone was in my center console ringing away.  Seems my sisters fever went back up and she wanted me to come get my nephew.  She lives about a minute from Patterson Park, so I went and got him and brought him over here for the night.  He was great, he took a bath, ate his cereal and fruit,(baby oatmeal and I think pears) took a bottle, and went to sleep.  He slept soundly until 7:15 this morning.  I fed him another bottle, then he went with my mom to a program at my little sisters school. I hope someday that I can have a baby as perfect as he is.  Even if I can't have it myself, I hope I get the opportunity to be a mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a little girl I have babysat for a few times.  Her mom had a baby boy six weeks ago, he has downs syndrome.  To me he is perfect also.  He's such a little fellow and has such a hard life ahead of him.  They won't know the extent of his downs (as far as mental and physical development), until he is older.  I pray that he grows to be a sweet, tender hearted boy, with very little limitations.  I've always felt a strong pull towards children with handicaps.  I should know something in a week or two about nursing school.  After that, we'll see what God has in store for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paid for my class reunion.  There's no backing out now.  I hope they're all  fat.  I know that's not nice, and should someone I went to school with ever read this, I suppose I would be emberrased.  But it's true.  At least I am an honest person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family is leaving for Georgia tomorrow.  I'll have my nephew part of the weekend, but hopefully I can relax for some of it.  My irritable bowel has been, well, slightly irritable this week.  Possibly the stress of the reunion, or the stress of waiting for info. on nursing school.  More than likely a combination of both.  I'm just not feeling quite right and I pray I'm not headed towards an ulcerative colitis flare up.  That is the last thing I need right now. Anyway, something is going on with my gut.  I guess I should have posted a waring before this for people who don't want to hear about my colon.  Well, Clark told us about his foot fungus, so I can talk about my colon.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111715655294368781?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111715655294368781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111715655294368781&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111715655294368781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111715655294368781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/pulled-muscle.html' title='Pulled Muscle'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111681616674337639</id><published>2005-05-22T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T19:42:46.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Weekend For Aunt Sarah</title><content type='html'>My family went out of town this weekend.  The last few  years their out of town weekends have been my vacation alone at home weekends.  I find it peaceful and relaxing when I'm here alone.  Well, so much for that.  I had my nephew friday evening while my sister worked.  Then I went to bed and was awakened at the butt crack of dawn by the phone. It was my sister, not feeling well, wanting me to come get my nephew. I mumbled something about when I woke up I would get him, but that it would be awhile.  I picked him up about lunch time and took him home around 8:00.  By the time I got back it was almost time for bed.  I woke up this morning, went to church and then picked up my nephew on my way home from church.  My family was back when I got home from picking him up, and my mom took him back home tonight.  All in all, I think I had about two hours to myself the whole weekend, not counting sleeping and church.  I love my nephew.  I love him more than I knew it was possible to love someone.  But, at the same time I really missed my weekend to myself.  My family will  be gone again next weekend.  I'm not looking forward to it so much because my 10 year high school reunion is Saturday night.  Yes, I am old.&lt;br /&gt;Today was Graduate Sunday at Church.  There was a video of the five guys who graduated from high school.  It went all the way from baby pictures to current pictures.  Also, they spoke on it, saying what they planned to do now.  Then their parents spoke about them and told embarrasing childhood stories.  I am so glad that was not done when I graduated.  I was thinking today that I barely remember graduation.  I remember someone spoke and that it was in my school gym, and that it was way too long to only be having 19 people graduating.  I went to a small private school.  I have only spoken to maybe 3 of my classmates since graduation.  I would not call any of them friends.  I also feel like I haven't accomplished much and I'm definatly not where I thought I would be at this point in my life.   I feel like the class "looser."  Pray for me to not feel this way and for me to be confident and not turn into the shy, quiet person I was in high school.  I'm still quiet, but not nearly as quiet as I was.  I'm scared I'm going to go Saturday night and regress back to who I was then. I'm so much more outgoing and confident now.  That is who I want to be Saturday.  I want to be myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111681616674337639?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111681616674337639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111681616674337639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111681616674337639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111681616674337639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/no-weekend-for-aunt-sarah.html' title='No Weekend For Aunt Sarah'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111638483605299094</id><published>2005-05-17T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T19:53:56.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filler</title><content type='html'>I wish I had something profound to post about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday at church we had a special prsentation of the 3 college students who are going on mission trips this summer.  Bryan is going to Israel.  It takes more guts than I have to go somewhere like that.  I really admire the drive and the faith that they show when going to places like this.  I also know several people who are going and have been to Africa.  Maleria just doesn't appeal to me, so I think a trip to Africa is not in my future.  I did go to Mexico twice in high school on mission trips.  I loved it.  It made me grateful for what I have.  Sometimes I wish for more local mission work.  I know there are lots of opportunities locally to help others.   I know that here in Rutherford county, there are people living with no running water.  There are children who go cold because their brother or sister are wearing the only coat they have.  Seems sometimes like it is easier to go off other places and work with the homeless and the poor, instead of acknowledging that it exists in your own backyard.  I'm not saying that foreign missions is by any means bad.  I think it's important. I just wish I could see people get as excited about doing local mission work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleep is something that has never come easy to me.  I toss and turn and lay there and think. I think of things from 20 years ago, 10 years ago, last week, today, next week, next year etc...  I worry about the past, present and future.  I pray, I cry, I cover up, I uncover...you get the picture.   We are talking a good hour before I fall asleep.  I started going to Yogalaties (sp?) a month ago.  At the end of class (my favorite part) she turns the lights out, puts really soft music on and we lay on our backs on our mat's.  She tells us to clear our mind.  Focus only on our beathing.  Then she says to use your sub conscious and picture your toes relaxing, then relax our toes.  She takes us through our legs, torso, neck, ect...and then you just lay there and breath.  I have found that if I take myself through this relaxation excersise after I get in bed, I fall asleep much faster.  now if I can just get my tummy to shrink...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew had his six months checkup today. He is 18.4 pounds and 28 inches long.  He's getting so big!   Speaking of getting big, my little sister has a field trip to Huntsville AL tomorrow.  This is the furthest she's been without us.  My parents had a funeral to go to today (I'll post on that another time).  I picked my sister up from school, brought her home for a half hour, then took her to the animal shelter to do vounteer work with her girl scout troup.  When I picked her back up, I had to go in and get her.  Let me just say, yuck.  While it is a nice new facility and seemed to have plenty of space, even a nice new place can't help being stinky with that many dogs.  My car now smells slightly of dog, thanks to my sister.  I saw two big fluffy cats that I would love to bring home.  That's why it's best to keep me out of there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111638483605299094?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111638483605299094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111638483605299094&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111638483605299094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111638483605299094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/filler.html' title='Filler'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111594755705298016</id><published>2005-05-12T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-12T18:25:57.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>17 Years Later</title><content type='html'>This time 17  years ago, I was standing on the Stage at Northfield Elementary School.  I was a member of the first Chorus and the first class of 5'th graders ever at Northfield.  Tonight I got to go watch my little sister, now a 5'th grader, stand on that same stage and sing in chorus.  It was precious. &lt;br /&gt;Even though I have basically not grown any taller (just a little wider) since I was a student at Northfield, it still always feels so much smaller in there than I remember.  I always thought that my sister would graduate from 6'th grade there.  Since she will be at a school for the gifted next year, that won't happen.  The principle at Northfield left in January to get ready to open a new elementary school this fall.  Several people are leaving Northfield to go to the new school. The Vice Principle and several others are leaving to go to my sisters new school.  Northfield has meant a lot to me and my family throughout the years that it has been open.  Leaving it behind isn't going to be easy. &lt;br /&gt;My sister sang a solo tonight. I am so proud of her!  She only had one line, but she sang it on key.  In so many ways, because we are so far apart in age, she almost feels like mine.  I look at her the same way a mother looks at her child, and I am just as proud of her as I would be if she were mine.  I think that is one reason (besides money) that I still live here. When the time comes for me to move out, it's going to be like leaving my child behind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111594755705298016?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111594755705298016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111594755705298016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111594755705298016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111594755705298016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/17-years-later.html' title='17 Years Later'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111586629077779464</id><published>2005-05-11T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T19:51:30.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmm....</title><content type='html'>Just checked my counter to see who had been reading my blog and it said Treas.gov   read it at 11 this morning.  Why would the U.S. treasury read my blog?  Maybe because of all my talk of Tenncare?   Strange, they must have been bored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111586629077779464?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111586629077779464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111586629077779464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111586629077779464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111586629077779464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/hmmm.html' title='Hmmm....'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111586588715046068</id><published>2005-05-11T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T19:44:47.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I give up</title><content type='html'>I gave up today and decided I am sick.  I was in denial all day yesterday.  My throat hurts like I have larengitus (sp?) but I haven't lost my voice yet, I just feel it coming on.  I've already had it once this year, and I usually only get it once a year or so.  I don't have tonsils, so it know it's not that.  I think i'll give until friday and then maybe call my doctor.  Last time all she did was put me on steroids, and I really don't want that again.  Anyway, I just basically feel like poo.&lt;br /&gt;I debated going to church tonight and finally decided to go.  My nephew slept for about the last 20 minutes of class and was an angel, as usual. &lt;br /&gt;I need someone to go with me to my class reunion on May 28'th.  I don't want to go by myself.  High school was hard enough for me, I'de like someone I know to be with me.  I guess for moral support.  I asked someone at church, but he will be out of town that weekend.  There are very limited options at my church and he was basically the only one.  There's the guy who doesn't like me, and the guy who I thought I might like.  He works a lot and I am betting that he works that night.  If anyone has any ideas, let me know...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111586588715046068?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111586588715046068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111586588715046068&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111586588715046068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111586588715046068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-give-up.html' title='I give up'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111578368784123790</id><published>2005-05-10T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T20:54:47.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>no title</title><content type='html'>Now that I haven't seen him for a couple of days, maybe I don't like him?  I don't know...it seems like I like guys lately who I have no chance with.  Maybe it's safer that way.  I have my little crush, I don't get hurt, everything is good.  I think i'm ready to risk getting hurt again.  I'm ready to love someone.  I trust myself now.  I know what I can and can't do and situations that I can't let myself get into or things will go to far. &lt;br /&gt;    I had my interview for nursing school yesterday morning.  It was scary.  I had to walk through this giggling room of students (who themselves were in the same situation a year ago), to get to the office where the interview was.  They asked me a bunch of questions.  A lot of questions that are illegal to ask in a job interview, but this was a school interview, not a job. They asked if I had any kids, if I had health problems, if I was on any medicine.  I didn't tell them everything health wise.  Only that I have had Ulcerative Colitis, but have not had problems in several years and that I take an immunesupresent for it, but I am on the lowest dose, and no I do not get sick easier or more often than other people because of it.  Go figure, today I have some kind of cold/allergy thing goin on.  Oh well, at least I didn't have it yesterday for my interview.  I didn't tell them about my arthritus or anxiety or irritable bowel.  Those are all things I have learned to live with and I didn't feel were any of there business.  I know that I would make an awesome nurse. I hope they could see that.&lt;br /&gt;    God solves problems in great ways!  I had a blood test done back in January at my doctor's in nashville.  It was to measure the level of Immunesupresent in my body to make sure I am on the right dose. The only lab in the whole U.S. that does this particular test is in California.  So we sent my blood off. Well, they aren't in TennCare's network.  So Tenncare wouldn't pay them.  My nurse filled out all these appeals and wrote a letter and I called them.  Then today I finally called the lab cause I got another bill saying nothing had been paid to them.  Turns out since I am on state insurance which is basically the equivalent to Medicade, they should never have billed me in the first place. For some reason in California (not sure about other states) they write off bills like that. So I owe a huge thanks to the tax payers of California who will be picking up the tab.  So now I am glad I called them lab instead of spending the day on the phone with TennCare and not getting anywhere with them.  I still don't know if I am going to loose or keep my TennCare.  I really, really need to keep it. At least until I get out of nursing school or if I don't get in until I find a job with insurance that will hopefully cover me. I'm not sure where the people who manage TennCare come from, but if they would put some people in charge who have half a brain, TennCare could save a lot of money. Heck, from my experiences with them, I think I could them a few pointers.   If it had been managed well in the first place, the budget would not be a problem. I could give some examples of their mismanagement, but I'll keep them to myself.  Anyway, the bottom line, as I mentioned in another post, is that I have Chronic health problems, I cannot get insurance privately, and at the moment I am poor.  I need to keep my insurance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111578368784123790?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111578368784123790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111578368784123790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111578368784123790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111578368784123790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/no-title_10.html' title='no title'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111560805249124193</id><published>2005-05-08T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-08T20:07:32.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Weekend</title><content type='html'>I had a pretty good weekend.  I went to the Smyrna air show.  It was the first time I've been to an air show.  I myself do not like to fly.  Something about the lack of control and the confined space and stuff just freaks me out.  However, I really enjoyed watching the planes yesterday.  We walked under the security tape and sat on the Tarmac at  this guys little red plane (a Pitts?).  It was a little two seater.  We had some great seats over there. It was where people who had flown in their private planes that, I guess were parked there to show them off, were sitting.  As the airplanes in the show landed that taxied to right over by where we were sitting and got out of them.  They also refueled them there and started them up there and everything.  I guess it was kind of the staging area.  There was this one guy who climbed around on the outside of a plane while his father flew it.  When they landed he sounded like he was hocking up a lung over and over. I would think that you would inhale quite a bit of stuff up there.  It took an hour and fifteen minutes to get off the airbase to the main road in Smyrna. I was late getting back to keep my nephew, but it wasn't a big deal. While I was stuck in traffic I got to watch the Thunderbirds.   &lt;br /&gt;My nephew gave me a Mothers day card, but marked out mother and wrote in "aunt" . Well, my sister wrote it in.  Then this morning at Church I got a Mothers day flower from Jonathon since I am basically my nephews second mom. &lt;br /&gt;I  enjoyed my time to myself this weekend. What little of it I actually had to myself anyway.  I watched the movie "Meet the Fockers."  I wouldn't recomend this movie if you are easily offended.  It's rated pg-13 .  I am not affected by stuff I see on Tv or movies.  I mean if it's scary it scares me.  But as far as language goes, I tend to tune out cursing.  The sexual stuff was a little much, but It was done in a way that it was funny to me.  I didn't like this one as much as "Meet the Parents" though.   I think I could have done without the baby's first words being A** Hole  in the movie, but even that was kinda funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am definatly interested in the guy I mentioned in my last post.  I talked with him more this weekend and it left me wanting to talk more.  I just enjoy being around him and his personality and everything.  That mean little voice in my head keeps telling me that he isn't interested in me and why would he be and all that.  I hate that voice. I hate that doubt that so many women tend to have.  I think mine comes from so many different dissapointments and rejections. After a while, you start preparing yourself for rejection way ahead of time.  I try to have confidence in myself, but every once in a while I need that confidence reinforced. I guess I need to hear that I'm pretty or that I'm nice and all that crap about how any guy would be lucky to have me.  I shouldn't need that boost, but I do.  See guys, whether we are 18 or 28, we still have the same doubts and stuff about  ourselves.  Women need to be complimented and made to feel good about themselves once in a while.  So many times other women tend to make us feel unattractive. It's in our nature to compare ourselves and I think we just assume that you, as a guy, are comparing us to other women also. It's a scary thing to wonder if we measure up. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that there are some super confident gorgeous women out there who never feel this way, but I have yet to meet one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got really shot down a few months ago.  I think it was back in the fall. There is this guy I've known since I started going to the Christian Center.  I saw how he had matured and I knew he was looking for the right person.  I had been interested off and on in him since the first semester I knew him.   I talked to Sarah J. and the center about it and she said to let her call him and see if he had any feelings for me.  Turns out that since we were friends, he couldn't ever like me as more. Turns out he feels that way abotu all Women.  apparently friends first does not work with him.  At least I know why he is still single though.  I have always looked at it just the opposite.  You get to know a person and be friends with them and it builds from there.  My point here is that, that incedent kind of hurt.  I am so hesitent to even let a guy know I'm interested in them now.  I don't want to be rejected again.  I wish this dating stuff was easier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111560805249124193?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111560805249124193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111560805249124193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111560805249124193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111560805249124193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/my-weekend.html' title='My Weekend'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111535394615956252</id><published>2005-05-05T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T21:32:26.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Create In Me</title><content type='html'>Create in me a clean heart oh God,&lt;br /&gt;And renew a right spirit within me.&lt;br /&gt;Create in me a clean heart oh God,&lt;br /&gt;And renew a right spirit within me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And cast me not away from Thy presence oh Lord,&lt;br /&gt;And take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.&lt;br /&gt;Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation,&lt;br /&gt;And renew a right spirit within me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    This song has been going through my head all day.  It is one of my favorites.  Very simple, yet it has powerful words.  So many times, my heart has been filled with things that shouldn't be there.  This song is about getting your heart right with God and focusing on him and finding peace in him.   I think that is a big thing that I rely on God for, Peace.  When I am stressed or just have too much going on, I can turn to God.  He calms me and helps me focus on what's really important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel weird jumping from one subject to another, but I am weird, and at least I can admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself liking a guy.  It's been awhile since I've been interested in anyone as more than a friend. It kind of makes me nervous.  I'm older than him. Which really can't be helped since I don't know any single guys my age.  If Demi Moore can date a guy 15 years younger than her, why should I care about six years?  Because I'm not Demi Moore and because I am scared that he just see's me as an old lady.  Everytime I talk to this guy I find myself more interested and wanting to talk more.  That's all I'm going to say on that subject, just be praying about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got some good news yesterday.  I got a letter from the nursing school I am trying to get into.  I go Monday morning at 8:30 for an interview.  That means that out of 200 or so people, I am one of 50 that got chosen to be interviewed for the 24 spaces in the class.  Wow!  I'm still trying to not get too excited until after the interview and stuff.  I don't want to be let down.  I've failed at so many things in my life, that I really need to succeed at this, I need to do this for me.  I feel like this is the direction God is pushing me towards.  I have had some of the best nurses around during my various health problems, I've also had some of the worst. I want to be one of the best.   Please pray for me as I go to my interview on Monday.  Interviews are not always my strong area.  Part of my dad's job at Nissan is to interview potential employees (no he cannot get you a job there, so don't bother asking, otherwise I would work there, for the benifits alone.)  I get so tired of my dad giving me interview pointers.  I go into an interview with my head full of do's and don't that he has told me, when I really just need to be myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a whole other subject, I am going to get some much needed quiet time this weekend. My parents and little sister are going out of town.  I'll have my nephew friday and saturday night (I need a social life.)  The days are all mine.  I plan on cleaning house. Yep, I'm such an exciting person.   You see, if I clean after they leave, then I can enjoy 2 days of clean house before they come home and trash it again.  Almost makes it not worth cleaning, but not quite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111535394615956252?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111535394615956252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111535394615956252&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111535394615956252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111535394615956252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/create-in-me.html' title='Create In Me'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111500206250610491</id><published>2005-05-01T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T19:47:42.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Title</title><content type='html'>I couldn't think of a title, so this post doesn't have one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Had a great day today. Church was very uplifting and the sermon was on lusting and ways to avoid it and the importance of avoiding it. At least that is what I got out of it.  After Church the college age folks went to T and Stevens apartment for burgers and socializing.  I learned to play Yatzee.  Found out it is a game that requires no skill (my kind of game!).  I also learned to play Boggle (I think I got the name right).  This game requires the ability to spell and think pretty fast, neither one being trates I am gifted in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I spent part of the afternoon after I got home, outside on my patio, working on Bike Club stuff.  I think I just wrote a really bad run on sentence.  Oh, well.  The weather was gorgeous today.  I should have worked in my flower bed while I was outside.  I have a few things coming up that I am not sure if they are weeds or plants.  This is what I get for not keeping track of what I planted where last year.  I don't know which plants were supposed to come back this year and which ones weren't.  I have this big bushy plant with flowers on it that has come up in front of my Lavender plant.  I think I planted it last year, but I didn't know it was going to be taller than the Lavender.  I also need to buy a few flowers to fill in some empty places from the flowers that did not return this year.   As a consequence of not saving the little white markers that came with my flowers last year, I also don't know the names of any of them.  Except the Hostas and the Lavender.  I suppose I could look up the others, but I have to wait til they all bloom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Isn't it amazing how I don't know the names of a few flowers, but God has millions (billions?)    of "flowers" (people) all over the world and he knows us all individually?   God doesn't need the "little white markers"  he remembers without them. Just another small example of how God is awesome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111500206250610491?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111500206250610491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111500206250610491&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111500206250610491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111500206250610491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/05/no-title.html' title='No Title'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111457122184804227</id><published>2005-04-26T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T20:07:01.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jealousy</title><content type='html'>I found out Sunday Night that my Grandmother Priscilla and her husband, Bill were coming yesterday.  I only half beleaved my mom when she told me, but around 3:00 yesterday afternoon they showed up.&lt;br /&gt;    I should tell a little background info. on them.  She is my dad's mother.  My dad's father died when I was 12.  They divorced when I was little and she married Bill.    Growing up my dad was the oldest of five boys. Many times child abusers single out one kid to take all the abuse. In my dad's case, he was the chosen one.  I don't know all the details, but I know enough.  Oh, and also in this case, my grandmother was the one who did the abusing. &lt;br /&gt;    My grandmother has lived in Florida since I was a little kid.  She has driven right past Murfreesboro on several occasions on the way up to Illinios to visit my dads brothers and not stopped to see us.  For most of my life, I have not thought of myself as having another Grandmother.  My Grandparents in Nashville have been all the grandparents I have needed (and more.)  My little sister was the type of baby that would let anyone hold her.  In one of my Grandma priscillas rare visits,  my sister went right to her. Since then she sends my family gifts at Christmas and at our birthdays.  It's really hard for me to allow her into my life.  She is someone I saw maybe every 5 years growing up.  I didn't let her hold me when I was a baby, and sometimes it's like I'm still paying for that. &lt;br /&gt;    Yesterday when she showed up (with less than 24 hours notice.)  I had already made plans to do something that night. She wanted to take us all to eat.  When I stated my plans, she said "  I'm only going to be here one night, but go if you want to."  Arggg!  I hate being guilt tripped and manipulated.  We ended up going to eat early and I still kept my plans. Well, today my sister came over and brought a card for my little sister. It was from my grandmother and had a 20 dollar bill in it.  My older sister got $100.00 from her (mostly for my nephew.) Guess what I got?  Nothing.  I know it's wrong to be jealous, but I'm not just jealous, I'm hurt.  I've always made an effort to be nice to her, even when I felt like the effort was one sided.  I think I need to always remember what being left out feels like and make sure I never do it to anyone.  Maybe five years from now, when I see her again, I will have forgotten being left out.  (sorry, that was kinda mean.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    On a happier note, I went to Yoga/Pilates last night.  It was fun.  Not so much like exercise to me, more like stretching and balancing.  Well, today my butt hurts and my back and my ab's.  The instructer said I have strong ab's. I don't know how you get strong ab's when you don't excercise and you eat mostly junk.  But I'm not going to argue with her.  So I guess I have strong ab's.  I liked it, so I think I'm going to go back next monday. I have a bit of pudge around my middle I would like to shrink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The guy at church who won't talk to me that I mentioned in a previous post?  Well, he went on the retreat this weekend.  I made an effort to talk to him, mostly me saying hello and thank you and him making grunting noises at me, but it was a start.  I saw him yesterday and he said "hi, sarah."  Maybe things will get better between us.  God put us in the same house over the weekend, in the same small group of people, for a reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111457122184804227?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111457122184804227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111457122184804227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111457122184804227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111457122184804227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/jealousy.html' title='Jealousy'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111440863171831724</id><published>2005-04-24T00:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-24T22:57:11.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retreat Weekend</title><content type='html'>I went on a retreat this past weekend with nine other young adults from my church.  It was an awesome, uplifting weekend.  We went to someone's cabin on Center Hill Lake.  We only spent one night.  I wish we had one up on Friday night instead of Saturday. I would have easily stayed longer.  We got up there on saturday afternoon.  The place was bigger than we thought it would be.  We took a short walk through the woods behind the cabin to a creek.  Somewhere, we had been told, was a waterfall.  We never managed to find it, but I was content just hearing the peaceful flowing of the water in the stream. &lt;br /&gt;    After a wonderful meal of Steaks and baked potatoes, we settled in for some singing and listened to a reading about the passover.  Then we each took a turn giving our testimony.  Mine was not so much a testimony as a much needed time to get some stuff off my chest.  I have carried this "baggage" with me for the last 8 years or so. &lt;br /&gt;    I was baptized when I was 13.  I knew what being baptized meant, but I'm not sure the reason behind when I chose to do it.  I knew I was giving my life over to Christ and confessing that I believed he died for me.  I was hurt a lot over the next 6 years of school.  I went through a lot of things that left me asking why?  I still don't understand why, but I have to trust that I experienced it all for a reason.  I got sick with colitis my Junior year in highschool.  I didn't totally understand my illness and the time and I was being constantly bullied and harrassed at school.  Because of this, I trusted no one and my self esteem was non existent.  When I got to college at MTSU, I was invisible.  I went to class and went home. I didn't have any friends, because I  had seen how so called "friends" treated me. &lt;br /&gt;    Then I discovered guys.  I had dated a couple of times in high school, but nothing very serious.  Now, in college, there were all these guys and they would pay attention to me.  The only time I felt good about myself was when I had a guys attention.  I started dating someone shortly after I turned 20. He was 4 years older than me and much more experienced.  I was very naive and confused the attention I got from him with love and actual feelings.   The only feeling he had for me was lust.  I was a virgin and he groomed me and pushed me a little more each time I saw him until one day, in a nasty apartment,  I gave away my virginity to him.  He acted like it was no big deal.  I was sure this was love.  I dated him for six  months. During this time he treated me bad, was always late and only came around for sex.  I thought that sex was all I was good for.  I finally reached a point where I just couldn't take him anymore and broke up with him.  I immediatly felt lonely and sought out another guy to solve this.  Over the next few years I slept around here and there.  It felt good for about 5 minutes and then all I felt was guilt and for some reason I still felt lonely.&lt;br /&gt;    I started going to the Christian center a year or so after breaking up with the first guy.  I thought that I could change my life there. Shortly after going there I discovered that guys there wanted the same things other guys did.  One thing was different though, I now had the attention of what I thought were good christian guys.   Turns out that jerks are everywhere.  Also, once you allow yourself to be used for sex,  there are guys who seem to sense that.  I was not a victim up until this point. I had freely given myself to the guys I dated.  I met a guy at the center. He was a roomate of one of our officers.  I ignored that voice inside me (a voice you should never ignore) and went to his dorm room.  We started making out and that was as far as I wanted it to go.  Something about him rubbed me the wrong way.  I tried to push him off of me and he said "your in no position to change your mind now." and then proceeded to rape me.  I carried this deep dark secret of being raped around with me for a week.  I told no one.  When I finally did tell someone, she said "I was afraid this would happen, what did you expect, with the way you act around guys." So I never told anyone else. I decided that the rape was my fault.  After that I dated a few more guys.  Four years ago I drove a co worker home after work and went in his apartment with him.  He attempted to rape me, but I was crying and shaking and he decided to stop.  I got lucky that night.  Ironically, both the rapist and attempted rapist were MTSU football players.  At that same time I was taking a class called Violence and the Family.  We were discussing rape in it.  I couldn't bear to go listen to the lectures a lot of times. I told my profesor what had happened to me.  She seemed totally unshocked that it was by a football player. It was through this class and a class called Victimology that I realized that I said no.  I was victimized and no matter how much I flirted to begin with and how much I made out with the first guy, the bottom line was no means no.  I now realized that this was not my fault. I also realized that my behavior and my life had to change, or this kind of thing would keep happening to me.  I worked hard and although I did slip up and go to far with one guy after that, I have since gotten very picky about who I date, if I even date at all.&lt;br /&gt;    Realizing that the attention I was getting was not the kind of attention I wanted was a big step.  I was at times hindered by my reputation. Especially around the center. I thought that a few guys were interested in me, turns out that through the rumor mill they had heard about me.  Now that I don't do things I shouldn't I mostly do not date.  I realize now the difference between love and lust. &lt;br /&gt;    Forgiving myself has been the hardest part.  I know that God has forgiven me and he wants me to move on with my life.  Sometimes my conscious won't let me do that. I know that is satan trying to remind me of my weaknesses.  I'm not a weak person.  If anything, my health problems and stuff I've experienced have left me with the strength of a body builder.  This is something I've learned that in some situations being the strong one is a good thing. It allows me to remain calm in situations that others wouldn't and I have this strong urge to help others.  I hope that through nursing (If I get in) I can work with Hospice, cancer patients or, I think my heart is really pulled towards a place like Special Kids. Special Kids is a nonprofit daycare if sorts for medically fragile children.  I babysat for a baby a few years ago who was born with just enough brainstem to keep her alive. She could not situp, talk, or even swallow. She also had frequent seizures.   I learned to tube feed her, and I fell in love with her.  She began going to Special Kids and it was awesome. It allowed her mom to work while knowing that she was being taken care of by trained nurses and physical and occupational therapists.  Shortly before her second birthday, she underwent a growth spurt. She started looking more like a little girl and less like a baby. Her little lungs and heart just could not support this big girl she was becoming and she died peacefully in her sleep.&lt;br /&gt;    Since then , I have felt really drawn to medically fragile, special needs children. To the point that, if I ever marry, I want to adopt, and I would be willing to take a child with special needs. I feel like I have seen what it takes day to day to care for a child like this, and God has given me a gift to be able to handle it and has given me more than enough love to share with a child, no matter how long they have on earth. &lt;br /&gt;    Wow, I went from talking about the retreat, to sex, to my future. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the retreat was a much needed get away and it sounded like all ten of us are at similar times in our lives.  We are all unsure of our future and where we should go from here.  Oh yeah, we had an 11'th reatreater who wasn't discovered until this morning.  Seems that while we were singing and talking and worshipping, we had an audience of one little grey mouse.  She teased us by darting out from under couches to the fireplace and then between the cabinets in the kitchen.  Oh well, all she witnessed, was a lot of love for Christ and for each other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111440863171831724?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111440863171831724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111440863171831724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111440863171831724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111440863171831724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/retreat-weekend.html' title='Retreat Weekend'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111396765907732647</id><published>2005-04-19T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T20:27:39.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back To Normal</title><content type='html'>I finally feel like myself again.  Saturday was the Bicycle ride that I directed.  Directing is always a stressful, tiring job.  I had to coordinate everything, including rest stops, support drivers (people who drive the route and pick up bikers who poop out or have mechanical problems), and HAM radio operators (since much of the route goes pretty far out in the country where there is no cell phone service).  The HAM Radio guys are one of the most vital parts of both of the rides I direct.  They are my eyes and ears since I can't be out on the route. If need be, they can call and get an ambulance somewhere much faster than I can from my post at the school.  Last year at the ride in August a man fell and broke his hip. They kept me informed of what was going on and provided me with his name (once they could get to where they could call me on a cell phone, HAM radio does not provide much privacy and you don't really want to say an injured persons name over it.)  so I could call his emergency contact.  There is also a HAM guy who stays at the school and sets up his equipment. So, basically he communicates with the others for me.  He also provided me with a two way radio, which came in handy when I went to grab some food inside the school.  While I was eating we were notified of a guy who took a wrong turn and was lost and something was wrong with his bike.  Someone went and picked him up and everything was fine. &lt;br /&gt;     Saturday was a long day.  I had to be out at the school at 5:15 a.m. which meant I got up at 4 a.m. I am not a morning person, so me getting up when it is still dark is a rare occurance.  I was at the school at around 3 pm that afternoon.  For the H.O.T. 100 in August I get to the school at around 4 a.m. and am there until around 4 or 5 p.m.  So Saturday was not quite as long as it could have been.  Even so, it has taken me until today to feel like I have caught up on my sleep.  I slept from 7:30 pm saturday until 10 a.m. sunday. Then I slept off and on all day sunday.  So guess what I did?  slept so much that I couldn't sleep Sunday night.  I was awake all night reading a book and finally fell asleep about 6 a.m. monday morning and woke up at 11 a.m.  Then I had to go get my nephew and run a few errands.  I came home last night and crashed about 10:30 and slept until 9:00 this morning.  I feel better now.&lt;br /&gt;     I'm really not looking forward to planning the H.O.T. 100.  It's a lot harder than the Two County Metric (saturdays ride).  It's like pulling teeth to get anyone to volunteer, so I have to do all kinds of things to get enough people.  From putting an article in the newsletter explaining how as a club, we put on two rides a year and it is our responsiblility to work these rides, it is the only impression of us that some people get and we want it to be a good one. I usually end up just going through the list of club members and calling them.  It's hard for people to come up with excuses about why they can't help when you catch them off guard.&lt;br /&gt;     I'm really thankful that no one got hurt Saturday.  We had 297 people, which was less than last year, but a good crowd.  The H.O.T 100 has close to 600, thats why it's so much more work.&lt;br /&gt;God also provided us with gorgeous weather on Saturday.  Warm, but not too warm.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;     I've had my nephew all day today.  He is such a good baby.  He was five months old this past monday.  Seems like only yesterday I was watching him be born and holding him only minutes afterward.  Now he's getting so big.  Sometimes I wonder what he'll be like when he is older.  I hope he loves God, and always tries to do the right thing.  I'll love him just the same no matter what.   I just hope he makes good choices in life.  That's the same thing I wish for my little sister also.  I also pray that they both hold on to their purity for as long as they can.  I always hope that my little sister waits until her wedding night to have sex.  Premarital sex really messes with your self esteem and for women, there are so many feelings involved.  We tend to associate love with sex, even when lust is the only thing that plays a role in it.  The guilt afterward, makes whatever few minutes of pleasure you had, not even worth it.  I know that there are young girls everywhere making the decision to have sex before they are really ready and before they are married.   It's an experience that I know hurts you more than anything.  I'll write more about this another time.  I have so much more I could say on the subject.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111396765907732647?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111396765907732647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111396765907732647&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111396765907732647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111396765907732647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/back-to-normal.html' title='Back To Normal'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111328758644983754</id><published>2005-04-12T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T23:33:06.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Books</title><content type='html'>I just finished a book by Nicholas Sparks.  It's the fourth book of his that I have read.   He wrote "A Walk To Remember,"  A great book which was later made into a movie starring Mandy Moore.  Until I read "A Walk To Remember," I never knew that a book could make me cry.  I mean, everything else has the ability to make me cry, but I never have really been touched by a book in the same way.  Well, tonight, the water works were a flowing.  Wow!  If I could remember the name of the one I read tonight I would tell you (yes, I read a whole book in a night, I read fast, especially if it's good.)  Something about the way he writes or the emotions that he goes for, have had me crying by the end of every book of his I've ever read.  It's not a bad kind of crying, not one that leaves me feeling all drained. It's more of an identifying with the characters in his book, and feeling really moved kind of crying.&lt;br /&gt;I love books.  Give me a quiet house, and a good book and I am happy.  I don't need to go out and party, or really even do things others think are exciting.  I am very low key and I actually usually don't like a lot of excitement going on around me.  I'm not one to thrive on adrenalen.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I babysat today.  I kept a 2 1/2 year old girl that I have met, but never babysat before.  Here is what I heard for two straight hours: "I want momma...I want mommy...mommy...mommy..." with a few of those snorts and gasps kids do between tears thrown in here and there.  I tried everything I could think of to distract her. Nothing worked.  She finally just turned off the tears and started talking to me and playing a little.  That and the poop accident in her pullup did not make for one of my best babysitting experiences.   She is a very sweet little girl, she was just confused cause I wasn't her normal babysitter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's really late and I should be asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111328758644983754?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111328758644983754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111328758644983754&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111328758644983754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111328758644983754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/books.html' title='Books'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111318811676993250</id><published>2005-04-10T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T19:55:16.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff</title><content type='html'>I haven't felt much like posting the last week.  Not much has gone on to post about anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister turned 32 earlier this week.  So until July 30'th she is now four years older than me (hahaha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brandon Scott Thomas has a saying on his blog (I don't know how to link to it or I would) for things that you just can't blog about.  He calls it "creamed corn."  That is kinda what is going on with me.  I have some stuff on my heart that someone confided in me at church this morning, but I will have to sort it out without posting about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a small group Bible Study with some people from church tonight.  They are all about my age (married of course).  They are watching the Dave Ramsey Financial Peace video series right now.  I know Dave has some very good points, and he has gotten a lot of people out of dept, but something about this guy just grates on my nerves.  Maybe it is that you have to pay him, when you are already in dept, to have him tell you how to get out of dept.  My parents went through his program several years ago.  As a teenager I was forced to endure his radio show whenever I was in the car with my parents.  That probably explains my feelings for him.  I don't own a credit card, nor have I ever, so I guess I feel like a lot of what he says doesn't pertain to me.  I do have student loans out the wazoo, but the only thing I can do about those is pay them. He says if you have something you owe money on, besides a house, sell it.  Can I sell my student loans?  I wish.  Drop me an email if you want to buy them from me  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word has gotten out that I am not keeping Austin anymore.  I have to babysit for a little boy in the morning and then go keep a little girl right after that.  I also have to keep the same little girl on Tuesday.  I had the boy two days last week.  I may be able to pay my taxes after all. I want to go down to the city schools office and apply to be a sub.  Looks like I won't have time until wed. to go out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the wonderful day you gave us today.  The weather was gorgeous and Church was so uplifting.  God I want to lift up the person at my church that told me some painful things that had happened to them.   Thank you for giving her peace of mind and helping her move past it.  God, we have both made a lot of the same mistakes.  Help us to be able to minister to each other and put our pasts behind us.  I also want to ask you to be with my friend Jamie.  I just love her and her family God.  Her father was recently diagnosed with Colon Cancer.  Be with them as they wait to find out if it has spread.  Be with the doctors who will decide his treatment, and heal him if it be your will.  They prayed for years for him to become a Christian and just a few years ago he was baptized.  Let them find peace of mind in this.  I love you God, and I am so grateful for the life you have given me and the people you have put in my path.   I feel honered to be able to worship you and to know that you are always there.&lt;br /&gt;In Jesus' Name, Amen&lt;br /&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/10665741-111318811676993250?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111318811676993250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111318811676993250&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111318811676993250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111318811676993250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/stuff.html' title='Stuff'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111275270796500615</id><published>2005-04-05T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T18:58:27.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>My nephew screamed for 45 minutes tonight. I finally got him to fall asleep.  He fights sleep sometimes and for an almost 5 month old, he sure can have a temper at times.  Most of the time he is the sweetest baby.  I finally took him up to my room and layed him on my down comforter on my bed.  I sat across from him and put his legs on my lap, I layed my arms kind of on him and he grabbed my hands and held them.  Then I lightly bounced the bed and he finally gave in and went to sleep.  I knew he was just tired because I had given him drops for gas, put stuff on his gums for teething, fed him, burped him, and changed his diaper. I don't know why my bed works, but this is the second time that exact position has worked when he was really tired and mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  had lunch Sunday after Church with the college age kids at the Winter's house. The Winters are a super nice couple at my church.  They both have huge hearts.  This is the second time in the last couple of months that they have opened their beautiful home for about 25 people, and fixed them lunch.  I hope one day I can minister to people like they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I have just been working on Bicycle Club stuff.  There is a ride that the club hosts on April 16'th.  There will be about 400 riders there.  I've been making the final plans and getting maps and release forms and stuff together to take to kinkos and copy.  This is my first year Directing this particular ride.  It is a much scaled down version of the ride I direct in August.  That one had over 600 riders last year.  We work with the Booster club's at both schools that host the rides.  Then after expenses are paid, we make a good size donation to the Booster Clubs.  We keep just enough money to keep us going.  We are not offically a non profit group, but we operate similar to one. I have an officers meeting on Thursday night, where I will discuss the final details of the ride.  Then there is a preview ride this saturday. Basically some club members will ride the route and let me know if I need to call the city or county street departments and have them come out and sweep gravel or construction dirt off the rode.  Normally I check and make sure no paving or construction is taking place on roads that are in the route.  However, this year, I have sorta forgotten to do that, so I pray that the roads are fine.  If they are not, I will get lots of complaints from riders.  As soon as this ride is over I have to start working on the one in August.  I am behind on it due to the ride coming up.  Being in charge of two rides is rough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I hope my sister gets off work soon, cause I am ready for bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111275270796500615?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111275270796500615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111275270796500615&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111275270796500615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111275270796500615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111241696406131285</id><published>2005-04-01T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T20:42:44.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Think Before You Speak</title><content type='html'>My sensitive feelings got hurt tonight.  My parents has their Bible study group over at our house tonight.  I stayed to eat then took my little sister and my nephew over to his house.  Somehow some of the men started talking about TennCare and joking about how it was about time they did away with it and stuff.  I didn't find this one bit funny.  You see, I am one of those people, because of my chronic health problems, that cannot get insurance.  So I am on TennCare.  I have no idea what I will do when TennCare cuts happen.  I have to get shots for my anemia that cost around $800 apiece.  When my blood counts are low I get these shots every two weeks and it normally takes about three shots to get my blood back up.  Not to mention the CBC blood tests every two weeks.  I also take probably a hundred dollars worth of pills everyday for my Ulcerative Colitus.  Previously I was on my parents insurance.  My father works for Nissan and so for about 18 years I had some of the best health care coverage in Tennessee.  To go from that to TennCare is a big shock.  But I thank God that I have any insurance at all.  I was without insurance for two months between the time my insurance ran out and when my tenncare started.  It has been well over a year and I am still paying my medical bills from that time.&lt;br /&gt;I am not proud to be on TennCare. I do not feel like I take advantage of TennCare or get more than I should.  I can see some ways that TennCare is not managed well, but it's all I have, and what I depend on day to day.&lt;br /&gt;So before people make fun of something, they need stop and think that you can't tell a person who is on TennCare by looking at them.  They may be middle class, but if they can't get any other insurance, they are forced to turn to TennCare.  There are people who will probably die from lack of proper medical care when they are no longer covered by TennCare.  When other insurance companies won't insure people with chronic illnesses or people with cancer and other deadly illnesses, they are left with no choice but TennCare.  Without TennCare, medical bills will go unpaid.  Some hospitals won't be able to afford to stay open.  Someone will have to pay for all the people who can't.  Whether they do this through an increase in the cost of medical treatment for people with insurance or by raising taxes, it will cost everyone in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing funny about what is going on with TennCare.  Until you have lived in the shoes of someone who depends on it, you have no room to judge, and no right to say anything about people who are on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111241696406131285?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111241696406131285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111241696406131285&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111241696406131285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111241696406131285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/04/think-before-you-speak.html' title='Think Before You Speak'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111224264869567510</id><published>2005-03-30T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-30T20:17:28.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunny Days</title><content type='html'>Took my nephew to visit his great garndparents (my grnadparents) in Nashville today. Then it was back to Murfreesboro, my house for a while, and then off to church.  While we were in Nashville my fmaily got back from Chattanooga.  When I left my house was nice and quiet. I returned to the usual chaos.&lt;br /&gt;I just spilt coke on my computer keyboard (whoops).  I wonder if it was going to mess it up if it would have done it immediatly or might it happen later?  Hopefully the fact that it still works, means it will keep on working.  It is a bit sticky though. &lt;br /&gt;Tonight at Church my class talked about Forgiveness, which has been the topic lately.  We also discussed some things about other denominations.  Most of us feel that it doesn't matter how you worship or where, as long as you are Worshipping God.  That it is more inportant to be a Christian that to be "Church of Christ" or "Baptist" or "Catholic."  To be able to honestly say that you believe in God, and that he is the only God, and that you believe Jesus was his son, sent to save us from our sins.  Those are the things that are important.  Not whether you worship with instruments, or acapella, or whether you worship at one church or another.&lt;br /&gt;I have an example of this is my family.  I have a 3'rd or 4'th (not sure which) cousin who recently got married.  Her parents are very conservative Church of Christer's (is that a word?) He is another denomination.  Because of this, her parents basically disowned her and she had to be given away at her wedding by her uncle.  His parents paid for the wedding.  That just made me sick when I found out.  How can you give birth to a child, and raise them and love them only to turn your back on them because they chose to marry a Christian man who was not a member of the Church of Christ?  She could have chosen a lot worse.  They will never know their grandkids and basically now have one less child.  How anyone could be so close minded I don't know.  God is Love.  The Bible tells us we are supposed to love Everyone.  The Bible does not give us step by step instructions on how to worship.  The Bible does not instruct us which denomination we are supposed to be.  This is because denominations were created by man, not by God.  The idea that someone would not go to Heaven because they choose to worship God one way over another is wrong.  If I turned my back on everyone who made a decison I did not agree with I would be sitting in a box all by myself somewhere. I guess I would have to disown myself also, since I have made some bad decisions myself.  The Bible orders us to love our children.  I think as far as one's own children are concerned, you love them unconditionally.  You don't stop loving them because they sin, or because they  get a tattoo, marry the wrong guy or even if they commit a terrible crime.  They are still your children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I needed to get on my soapbox tonight.  I'm just really bothered by this particular situation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111224264869567510?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111224264869567510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111224264869567510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111224264869567510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111224264869567510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/sunny-days.html' title='Sunny Days'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111215858240690442</id><published>2005-03-29T22:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T20:56:22.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiet</title><content type='html'>It's been a nice, relaxing couple of days.  My family left Sunday afternoon for Chattanooga.  It's just me and the cat here at home.  I've been doing laundry and cleaning, mostly puttering around the house.  I made cookies today and tommorow I am going to pick up my nephew and go to Nashville to my Grandparents for lunch.  I made the cookies for my grandfather, and I think I'll drop a few by the Christian Student Center before I head to Nashville.&lt;br /&gt;I applied for a job today.  I really need to make some money.  Also, I am starting to feel like a housewife.  This is bad since I'm not married and this is my parents house. &lt;br /&gt;I think this is going to be my shortest blog yet.  There is basically nothing going on with me, Hence there is nothing to post about.  So, I'm off to take out my contacts and go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111215858240690442?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111215858240690442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111215858240690442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111215858240690442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111215858240690442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/quiet.html' title='Quiet'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111189535067729177</id><published>2005-03-26T21:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-26T19:49:10.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>I went to an Easter service at my church tonight. It was very uplifting and moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew is spending the night tonight and going to church with me in the morning.  I hope I get some sleep! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a guy at my church that has me troubled.  I've known him for a few years. I met him at the Christian Student Center at MTSU.  We've never been friends, and I guess I never really thought much of it until I started going to church with him.  He says hi to people, shakes peoples hands, maybe hugs a few, and then he looks past me.  I went up to him and said hi back when I first started going to church there and he said "hey" then there was this ackward silence and he turned around and went in the bathroom.  I try to say hi when I see him, but he either doesn't hear me or he ignores me.  I know there will always be people who don't like me and people who I don't like.  However, I at least get to know someone before I decide if I like them or not.  He's never even attempted to know me.  He may think he knows me because of how I used to act, but thats not who I am anymore.  There's been several times when I just want to go up to him and ask him what his problem with me is, but I don't.  I guess it just hurts my feelings that I'm not worth even a hello to him.  Your supposed to love everybody and I have tried to love him, but it's hard i'm getting quite the opposite vibe from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, I got a sandwich today that was supposed to be somewhere around $5.25.  The guy only charged me $2.99.  He said he was feeling generous and I didn't get everything on the sandwich that came on it.  I will have to frequent this place more often and repay him for his genorosity.  I guess giving me a discount is a good way to win me over as a customer. And no, for those who think like my sister, I did not give him my number or ask for his number. Nor do I want his number.  I'm not sure where a guy would fit into my life right now. Especially if I get into nursing school.  There will be no time, which is fine with me.  I've done great this long being single.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111189535067729177?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111189535067729177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111189535067729177&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111189535067729177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111189535067729177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111164321978094093</id><published>2005-03-23T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T21:46:59.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Suppport</title><content type='html'>I've been sitting here for a while trying to think of what I want to post on.  Terry Schiavo keeps coming to mind.  I've been trying to decide how I feel about this.  On one hand I think that she's in a vegetative state and maybe it is best to let her go.  On the other hand, she isn't on life support.  She's just on a feeding tube.  Her body works enough that she she can breathe on her own.  If it was a matter of turning off a resperator, my opinion would be much simpler.  I've been there.  I didn't make the decision, but I was with the family of a very dear friend when the decision was made to "disconnect" her life support.  I held her brother when they came out and told us it had been done.  I cried with her husband moments later as I stood by his side at her bed.  I cried with her brother and mother-in-law almost 24 hours later when she took her last breath, with her husband still by her side, holding her hand as he had the last 24 hours non stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This decison was not an easy one for any of the family involved. In the end, it was her husband who made the decision.  It was not made until tests showed no brain function.  She died peacefully, feeling no pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the case of Terry Schiavo, I don't know what her brain function is.  I hate the idea that she is dying because she is starving and dehydrated.  Neither one of those is by any means a pleasent way to go.  I feel like your body knows when it is time to go.  God takes you when he is ready.  If she had been left on the feeding tube would she have lived for 15 more years?  While I don't feel that anyone should have to "live" the way she has,  I'm not sure if the way she is being forced to go is right either.  I think when it is her time to die, she will die.  I think this is a very private decision that should be made by families. I don't feel that congress or the president had any right to step in.   I wish her husband and her parents could agree on what was best for her.  I'm not sure that I really agree with either one of them.  I already said what I thought about the way she is going. I think that her parents have not faced that she is not going to get better.  They, like all parents would, still hold on to hope that their daughter will recover. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I just pray that if it is her time to go, that she do so quickly without pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111164321978094093?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111164321978094093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111164321978094093&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111164321978094093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111164321978094093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/life-suppport.html' title='Life Suppport'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111155058895730212</id><published>2005-03-22T22:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T20:03:08.960-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Never Ending Day</title><content type='html'>Today has been such a long day. I had planned on going and staying with my Grandmother tonight.  However, those plans changed this morning when it was discovered that my mom's cold is not a cold, it's the flu.  So, I scrapped my plans.  Instead I went to Hickory Hollow Mall.  Found a skirt and jacket and some shoes for church.  I lived in Nashville til I was 10, and since my Grandparents still live there, I am pretty familiar with the streets.  So, maybe it was the rain, but I  had a hard time getting anywhere I was trying to go today.  I left Hickory Hollow mall, turned on the road that I knew would take me to Murfreesboro Road so I could run by my grandparents, drove a little ways on that road, hmmm, this doesn't look familiar, so I turned on another road, gave a small cry of suprise when I saw the home depo  sign, indicating I had just made a complete circle through Antioch and ended up back at the mall.  So once again, I turn on another road, same thing happens.  So much for my short cut, I get on Bell Road and stay on Bell road all the way to Murfreesboro Road.  Drive down Murfreesboro road, see the road I had turned on the first time when leaving the mall (If I had just kept going another minute on it, I could have avoided circling around, twice) I turned off Murfreesboro Road onto Donelson Pike, past the airport, down to Lebanon Road.  I'm finally all most there.  I'm in the right lane, about to go over Briley Parkway, when oops!  Thanks to all the road construction, this lane only goes onto Briley Parkway, not straight like I need to.  It's raining and there is traffic, so I'm forced onto Briley.  Drove through the road construction, exited Briley at Two Rivers Park, luckily I lived by the park, so I know where I am.  Drove down Two rivers Parkway, to McGavock Pike, back to Lebanon road.  This time I stay in the left lane and finally get to my grandparents house.&lt;br /&gt;Normally I don't have adventures like that, although I am good at making maybe one wrong turn, but I usually get back the right way with no problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my Grandmothers and thought it looked like the rain was letting up.  About the time I got on I-24 I glanced ahead of me and thought it looked awfully foggy up  ahead. It wasn't fog.  It was rain. The kind of rain where you can only see the car's tailights in front of you and basically nothing else.  That lasted from Donelson until Lavergne.  I never got above 40 and people weren't passing me.  As I got closer to home the rain let up.  Traffic was at a standstill after I got in Murfreesboro because of a wreck.  I finally got through that, stopped by my house for a few minutes, then headed across town to my sisters to watch my nephew while she worked.  I just got home from keeping him.  There are storms heading towards us, so I have a feeling it's going to be a long night also.  I can't sleep when it's storming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to mention, I got in the 91'st percentile on my test.  Hopefully I will be one of about 50 called for an interview and then one of 24 accepted into the program.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111155058895730212?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111155058895730212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111155058895730212&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111155058895730212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111155058895730212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/never-ending-day.html' title='The Never Ending Day'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111137473316204001</id><published>2005-03-20T21:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-20T19:12:13.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Day #2</title><content type='html'>I take my nursing test again in the morning.  Father, be with me in the morning.  I know I'm prepared.  Help me to be calm and to answer each question carefully. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandfather has moved to the rehab hospital.  They were wise to his attempts to get up by himself.  He was told if caught, some kind of bell would be put on him or the bed that would allert the nurses if he got up.  Apparently, he is now doing so well, that they are now allowing him to get up on his own.  He is progressing faster than ever expected.  I may go down and spend the night with my grandmother tuesday night. They live really close to Opry Mills in nashville. I realized that Easter is a week from today and that I don't have anything to wear to church.  I have nothing that looks spring weather like.  I don't get new clothes very often.  Even when I have money (hardly ever) I normally don't spend it on myself.  I also don't normally enjoy shopping, but for some reason I have the urge to go.  Maybe it has something to do with spring?  I also have an urge to go clean all the weeds out of my flower bed and get it ready for new flowers. Now, if only I'de get an urge to clean house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111137473316204001?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111137473316204001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111137473316204001&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111137473316204001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111137473316204001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/test-day-2.html' title='Test Day #2'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111120818119115605</id><published>2005-03-18T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T20:56:21.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing</title><content type='html'>I decided I was well enough to go see my Grandfather today.  He moves to the Rehab Hospital tommorow and I wanted to see him before that.  He is doing better than expected.  He has been up walking with the aide of a walker and a physical therapist.  While I was there today, the nurse removed the drainage tube from his knee and I got to see his insision.  It looked really good.  He is planning on having his other knee done this fall. His is back to his stuborn self.  I argued in circles on the phone with him last night about why my Grandma has to drive him to rehab and why he can't drive himself.  He made no mention of it today, so hopefully he has realized he is not allowed to drive.   He also confessed to getting himself out of bed during the night and walking, alone,with his walker, down to the nurses station in search of another sleeping pill.  He's not supposed to get up without someone helping him.  Since he has done it once, he'll probably do it again and it may be one of those things we just have to let him do and pray he doesn't get hurt.  Now, if only we can figure out how to keep him off the riding mower in a few weeks when he is back home?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a bicycle club officers meeting last night. I don't ride, but my dad is the president.  He's actually off on some ride in Floriday as I type this. He willl ride all day tommorow and finish up about 3 a.m. Sunday morning.  crazy, yes, I know.  He rode across the United States three years ago and has riden from Canada to Mexico and from California to the Grand Canyon and back, just to name a few.  The year started with a new title for me. I am now "Event Director". This translates into "person who does everything no one else wants to do."  I am going on my third year as the Director of The Heart Of Tennesee Century (H.O.T. 100) bike ride.  Last we had grew to over 600 participants.  It's a lot of work and a lot of permits and sponsor's rear ends to kiss etc...This year I am also taking on the Two County Metric. It is coming up April 16'th.  It attracts a little less than half as many riders as the HOT and is quite a bit easier to stage.  Even though the HOT is not until August 27'th, There are already things that need done to prepare for it.  Basically I am trying to plan and finalize stuff for the Two county and work on the HOT at the same time.  You can read more about the Club and these rides at www.mborobike.com&lt;br /&gt;If I knew how to link to it, I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love working with the Club. I saw them pull together as a family last year with the sudden death of a long time member, who was also an officer.  I feel blessed to have my family, my church family and my bike club family.  If only bike club wasn't  a volunteer thing. It would be nice to get paid to do what I am good at. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the Club officers teaches Algebra at MTSU. She met me before the meeting at the Lawyers office we always have our meetings at, and helped me with the Algebra for my test Monday.  She was a lot of help and told me some steps to solving algebra problems that I had forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my nephew is about to leave.  I need to go give him kisses  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111120818119115605?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111120818119115605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111120818119115605&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111120818119115605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111120818119115605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/amazing.html' title='Amazing'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111111869265767947</id><published>2005-03-17T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T20:07:25.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>test</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="20"&gt; &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt; &lt;td align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I have no idea what this test means.  I made D's in science.  However I saw it on Bill's Blog (guy from church) and decided to try it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;Zn... Zinc&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You scored 20 Mass, 32 Electronegativity, 54 Metal,  and 0 Radioactivity! &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have a strong sense of the communal good and you aren't too&lt;br /&gt;demanding. You know better than to mess with the powers that be. You&lt;br /&gt;value being surronded by the right people, but don't care too much&lt;br /&gt;about what people beyond your group think of you. You are also the last&lt;br /&gt;element to be mentioned in every vitamin commercial, and have gained&lt;br /&gt;recognition throughout the 50+ community as the very symbol of&lt;br /&gt;"completeness." Hmm, you might be good at taking care of sick people,&lt;br /&gt;but that might be hogwash too. &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt; &lt;td align="center"&gt; &lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/users/120/394/12139529261858594089/mt1108163359.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="20"&gt; &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt; &lt;td&gt; &lt;span id="comparisonarea"&gt;My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people &lt;i&gt;your age and gender&lt;/i&gt;:&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="black" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20" width="9"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="white" width="141"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;6%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;Mass&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="black" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20" width="84"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="white" width="66"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;56%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;Electroneg&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="black" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20" width="74"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="white" width="76"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;49%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;Metal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;&lt;table bgcolor="black" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="1"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#b2cfff" height="20" width="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="white" width="148"&gt;&lt;img src="http://is2.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="middle"&gt;You scored higher than &lt;b&gt;1%&lt;/b&gt; on &lt;b&gt;Radioactivity&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt; &lt;table cellpadding="20"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Link: &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=10462132396003208006"&gt;The Which Chemical Element Am I Test&lt;/a&gt; written by &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/profile?tuid=12139529261858594089"&gt;effataigus&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://www.okcupid.com/"&gt;Ok Cupid&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111111869265767947?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111111869265767947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111111869265767947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111111869265767947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111111869265767947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/test.html' title='test'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111102973666951446</id><published>2005-03-16T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T19:22:16.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick</title><content type='html'>My sinus stuff has gotten worse the last couple of days.  I woke up this morning with no voice.  I went to the doctor, even though I didn't think they would give me anything.  They did give me a few days worth of steriods.  I'm very familiar with steriods.  I have had to take them quite a bit in the past with my colon.  I'm not on a strong dose so hopefully no side effects like they have caused in the past.&lt;br /&gt;My Grandfather's Surgery was today.  Since I wasn't sure what I was sick with, I didn't go to the hospital.  There is nothing worse than being in the hospital and having someone come see you who is sick.  Epecially if you catch it on top of whatever is else going on. So, I did the considerate thing and stayed home.  It was hard sitting here all morning waiting to hear.  His surgery took quite a bit longer than they thought it would, but it wasn't anything major.&lt;br /&gt;He starts physical therapy on his knee soon.  They should transfer him from the hospital to rehab over the weekend.  He will be in rehab between 8 and 14 days.  I am so glad that his surgery went ok. I know he wasn't feeling real well tonight, but hopefully the pain will get better soon.  I remember the pain and the nausea from my arm and later from physical therapy.  It definatly wasn't pleasant, but each day was a little easier than the day before.  You take baby steps, you get frustrated cause you feel like you're not making a lot of progress, then one day you realize you're a lot better.&lt;br /&gt;I missed Church tonight.  I'm feeling pretty rough.  It's also frustrating to not be able to talk, but I think my family is enjoying it  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111102973666951446?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111102973666951446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111102973666951446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111102973666951446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111102973666951446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/sick.html' title='Sick'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111087902270268641</id><published>2005-03-15T03:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T01:30:22.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad night</title><content type='html'>It's 3 a.m. in the morning and I'm awake.  Just thought I'de blog a minute.  This hasn't happened to me in a while, but sometimes I dream about things that have happened to me and some things that were done to me in the past.  I wake up panicked and sobbing and sleep doesn't come real well afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;I think I've left things behind and have dealt with them and then I have these dreams and think maybe I haven't.  I wake up alone in the darkness of my room and everyone else in the house is sleeping.  It's hard when you need to share something and there is no one to share it with.  I try talking to God, but then I end up thinking more and dwelling on what is bothering me and getting myself more upset.&lt;br /&gt;Part of my problem is this wall I've built around myself.  It's really hard for me to let anyone in.  I feel like I have so many layers.  I'll share some things with people on occasion, but there's always other things that so far, very few have managed to get out of me.  It's not that I want to hold on to these things, it's just that I don't want people to judge me (it's nothing illegal) and I feel like I have so much that I am dumping on people when I do share. &lt;br /&gt;Things tend to come to surface in the form of nightmares to me.  I severely broke my arm 2 1/2 years ago, and didn't realize how traumatic it was for me until two days after I was in the hospital and I started dreaming the accident over and over, I would wake up right at the second that I heard my bones snap (more like a pop).  My nurses said it was some post traumatic stress stuff. Considering I hadn't been in a war or anything I didn't know it was bad enough to cause that.  Apparently the audible snapping of bones, pain and internal bleeding, followed by my doctor explaining the risk of loosing my arm, if the surgery wasn't performed soon, and hearing them talk about how close (milimeters) to the main artery my bone had passed as it punctured my skin from the inside, was enough to cause me some issues.&lt;br /&gt;I finally stopped dreaming about my arm and "grieving" some of the loss of motion I now have in it a year or so ago.  It was a tough, tough process for me to work through.  I know I have some other things In my life I need to work through also.  I think everyone does.  I just wish my sleep wasn't interupted to remind me of mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111087902270268641?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111087902270268641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111087902270268641&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111087902270268641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111087902270268641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/bad-night.html' title='Bad night'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111059936146111206</id><published>2005-03-11T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-11T19:49:21.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Day</title><content type='html'>Today was my test.  I might as well explain what it was now, most who know me already know anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to get into the LPN (nursing) program at the technical school here.  I have a degree in psychology, but I really feel like nursing and helping ill people is where my heart is at.&lt;br /&gt;I made in the 79'th percentile on the test.  That is good, but they take the people who score is the 90's first.  Since only 24 people are accepted, I'm going to take it one more time on the 21'st and try to bring me score up.  I need to work on Fractions and Algebra (yuck).  It's all reading and math stuff.  I tested above high school level on reading but at high school level in math.  After all the remedial math and college statistics I had to take in college, you'de think I'de have scored at college level.  However, when I was in high school, I was probably on an elementary level in math.  I strongly dislike math.&lt;br /&gt;so it's time to break out the old Algebra book and brush up on solving algebraic equations. That was the only algebra thing on the test, thank goodness.  Today I was thinking it's a good thing they didn't require you to know metric conversions or anything like that.  I have a hard enough time cooking when I have to half a recipe or something.&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel good tonight.  My sinuses hurt and my nose feels a little stuffy.  I really, really don't want to be sick right now. &lt;br /&gt;My sister just picked up my nephew. So I am off to bed.  Maybe I can sleep off whatever is going on with my sinuses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111059936146111206?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111059936146111206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111059936146111206&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111059936146111206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111059936146111206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/test-day.html' title='Test Day'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111032244967716752</id><published>2005-03-08T16:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T14:54:09.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oops</title><content type='html'>I spoke too soon last night about my cat being better.  Within an hour of posting she started vomiting again.  So this morning I spent three hours at the vet with her.  It took longer than when I go to the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture my stressed out sick cat in a litle carrier, sitting in the vet's waiting room.  There is only one other dog in there.  Then along comes a big huge dog, who's owner says is still a "puppy."  Big huge dog makes me nervous cause I fear my cat going ballistic in her carrier (she's a little high strung).   Thankfully big dog sits across the room from us.  Then along comes a man and a woman with eight black lab six week old puppies.  Yes, eight yippy, crying dogs.  They sit a few seats down, I have since moved abby's cage to the other side of where I am sitting.  Receptionist comes out to pet the puppies.  I briefly fear she will attempt to pet Abby and loose a finger.  As I'm thinking this, in walks two pit bulls, followed by some other big dog and a smaller dog.  so it's my cat and close to 15 dogs.  She did the only thing she could do, layed in her carrier and played dead.  Yes, I know she was playing cause I poked her once to make sure.  Yep, she moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness they called us back to the room.  More waiting and every once in a while you could here the sounds of heavy panting as dogs walked past the room (where were the other cats?) Vet comes in, let's Abby out of her carrier.  Abby was fine until she touched her bladder.  Then the technician found out why it says that Abby may bite in here chart.  She didn't bite her but she came close.  This was followed by some growling, hissing and a little poofing of the fur.&lt;br /&gt;They took her back, got some Urine (through a small needle inserted through her abdomin into here bladder), took some blood, did some x-rays.  I thought we were done and the doctor would be in soon with the diagnosis. Wrong, they had to reshoot an x-ray.  More waiting. Finally the doctor came in, not sure what is wrong with Abby.  There is no blockage. There is a slight bladder infection and some billirubins (spelling ?) in her urine.  Billirubins are secreted by your liver and normally don't belong in your Urine.  The doctor was conserned about her liver, since she is slightly over weight and won't eat.  However, I decided to hold off on sending the blood work off due to the expense of it.  I have since recalled that when you have been throwing up for a while, your liver enzimes and stuff can get thrown off.  Mostly from dehidration.  Therefore, I Dr. Sarah (not really) have concluded that her liver is probably ok.  It's just from being sick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So technically, we don't know what is wrong with the cat.  So we are just treating her symtoms. She has an antibiotic for her bladder, an antibiotic for her GI tract, and some nausea medicine.  Thats three medicines I have to force my cat to take twice a day each.  It's been less than a day and she already runs when she see's me coming.  Especially if she notices the medicine syringe thingie in my hand.  So I have to chase her all over the house, drag her out from under tables, then hold her down and try to get all the liquid medicine down her throat.  I end up with it on me, and usually dripping from her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much did all this cost you might ask?  $145.00!  If I had sent the blood off it would have been another $60 something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home from the vet I saw a car with lettering on the back I didn't understand.  I got the top part, it said "Think God"  it was the bottom lettering I didn't get, "It's the speed limit, problem?!"  I thought it meant something along the lines of "The speed I'm going is the speed limit so back off."  Then, they sped past me doing at least 10-15 over.  So that left me wondering if it meant something else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my nephew is here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111032244967716752?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111032244967716752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111032244967716752&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111032244967716752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111032244967716752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/oops.html' title='Oops'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111025761518607276</id><published>2005-03-07T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-07T20:53:35.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish it was Friday</title><content type='html'>I don't wish it was friday because of the weekend, I wish it was friday because that is the day of my test and I'm ready to take it and get it over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the cabin for a few hours today. It has been closed up all winter so it was pretty dusty and dirty.  Also, there has been some kind of lady bug infestation.  There were dead lady bugs everywhere.  I swept a bunch out, but could have spent the whole day just cleaning them out of there.  Another reason I didn't stay long was that the microwave that used to be there no longer was, so I had no way to make the food I took.  If I ever figure out how to post pictures, I'll post some of the cabin.   So I fed the cat, walked around, swept out lady bugs, studied some, and then headed back home before the rain started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister worked tonight. She doesn't normally, but that meant an extra night with my nephew, so it was ok.  I'm keeping him wednesday while she has a doctors appt.  I'm not supposed to have him that night, but I'm gonna keep him and take him home after we go to Church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently praying for a cat works.  Praise God!  She made a sudden recovery. Last night she drank some water for the first time in two days, and then this morning she ate and it stayed down!  She still seems weak, but that is to be expected after two days of throwing up.  We talked to the vet this morning and she said not to bring her in unless she started getting sick again.  So not only is she better, but she didn't cost me any money.  We don't know what was wrong with her. Either something upset her stomach or she picked up a stomach virus. She doesn't leave the house and isn't around other animals, so I don't know how she'de catch something.  Oh well, just one of lifes mystery's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111025761518607276?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111025761518607276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111025761518607276&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111025761518607276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111025761518607276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/wish-it-was-friday.html' title='Wish it was Friday'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111016781665434979</id><published>2005-03-06T22:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T19:56:56.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring</title><content type='html'>Today was a gorgeous spring-like day.  I enjoyed it, which is a good thing since it's supposed to start raining in a day or two and get down cold enough to flurry.  Gotta love Tennessee weather.&lt;br /&gt;Where else can it be 65 one day and 35 the next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to the cabin tommorow.  I think I'm going to leave in the morning and come back tom. evening.  It's only about a 30 or 45 minute drive.  I have the keys and can go back whenever I want.  I may go back up for a part of a day later this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's sermon was equally good as last weeks, if not better.  I had tears in my eyes before it was over.  We watched the video "amazed."  It was awesome. It ended with Jesus hanging on the cross.  I haven't seen the Passion movie (I know I need to), if this video didn't show scenes from the movie than it closely resembled it.  Then my preacher spoke on forgiveness again. This is the part that made me tear up.  I again felt like he was speaking directly to me.  He said that the only thing strong enough to carry the weight of hurt, betrayal, and bitterness (I hope I got that right) is God. The human body is not made to carry our problems and bad feelings around with us.  It eats away at us and harms us.  Thats why it's so important to forgive people who wrong you and then turn those feelings you have over to God.  God is so perfect that he can bare all those things for us without it harming him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My response to this is "I get it God."  I know I need to work on forgiveness and giving some things over to God.  I think that god knows I am stubborn so he makes me hear things more than once to make sure it sinks in.  Two sermons in a row on forgiveness is probably not a coincidence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Jonathan, the praise leader at my church, that I want to place membership today.  He went with me to one of the shephards (elders) and I told him.  So now I am a member of Stones River.  Wednesday night I think I have to get the secretary or whoever handles membership to put my name on the members list, then it'll be official.  I finally feel like I belong somewhere.  now I just need to find an area to plug into (examples: teaching sunday school, praise team, choir, youth group etc...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how God feels about praying for animals?  I have finally decided that since God made them also, they are his creation and therefore can be prayed for.  So tonight I want to pray for my cat, Abby.  She has had a tummy upset problem (throwing up) since yesterday morning.  She will be going to the vet first thing in the morning.  I pray that she not cost too much and that she doesn't have anything seriously wrong with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111016781665434979?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111016781665434979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111016781665434979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111016781665434979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111016781665434979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/spring.html' title='Spring'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-111007950382074417</id><published>2005-03-05T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T19:25:03.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Writers Block</title><content type='html'>I am horrible at thinking of titles.  It takes me longer to think of a title than it does to write an entry.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't written for a couple of days because I haven't really had anything to write about.&lt;br /&gt;I've just been keeping my nephew and doing everyday stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandparents came down from Nashville yesterday. It's only a 30 minute or so drive from here.  They came to see my nephew but stopped by my house also.  It struck me yesterday that my Grandfather has really aged lately.  He is 81 and all of a sudden he seems like it.  He used to seem younger than he actually was.  He didn't remember that he was the one who hung our blinds in the kitchen and living room last year.  My Grandmother mentioned on the phone tonight that he seems to forget a lot lately.  Just in the last couple of years I have observed her going from her role as his wife to more of his caregiver at times.  I know that no one is ever ready to loose a loved one, but the reality has hit me that my grandparents probably don't have many years left.  I am in no way ready for them to not be on this earth.  I know that it is selfish for me to say that.  I know that they are both Christians and that they have a much better place waiting for them, but I want them here. &lt;br /&gt;The grandparents I'm talking about are my mom's parents.  My father's dad died years ago and my father's mother lives in Florida. I can count the number of times I've seen her almost on one hand.  I love her, because she is my grandmother, but she has never been much of a grandmother to me.  My mom's parents are like having two sets of grandparents.  They are a big part of my life .&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather is having knee replacement surgery on the 16'th.  I pray that he comes through the surgery and the rehab well.  I think seeing him yesterday looking kind of frail and then him getting ready to have surgery, just have me a little worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to the cabin on Monday.  Not sure if I am coming back on Tuesday or Wednesday. I described the cabin in an earlier post.  I just need to get away and spend some time alone with God.  I have a test on friday that I need to do some studying for, and I need to do it somewhere without distractions.  I will blog about the test another day.  It's something I have purposely not blogged about, I'm waiting to see how things go first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I looked forward to going to Church.  The last couple of days I have been excited that Sunday is almost here.  It's a very nice change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-111007950382074417?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/111007950382074417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=111007950382074417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111007950382074417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/111007950382074417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/writers-block.html' title='Writers Block'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110982439975843062</id><published>2005-03-02T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T23:50:12.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This World Is Not My Home</title><content type='html'>The title has nothing to do with my blog. It is a true statement though, and now the song that goes with it is stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart has been heavy all day, since I saw the news at lunch time. A 14 year old boy in Stewart County who rides a bus to school along with other children ranging from Kindergarten age through high school, climbed on the bus as usual when it stopped at his house. He shot and killed the driver in front of all those kids (the kindergartners sit in the front of the bus). Another kid tried to stop the bus and ended up hitting a telephone pole. The news showed the children reuniting with their families.&lt;br /&gt;As a Psychology major and I guess just as a person, I wonder what was going on in that 14 year old boys head. Had that bus driver done something that made him angry? Had he sat at home and stewed over it for a day and then decided to shoot her?  Those are just a few of the questions going through my head.&lt;br /&gt;In college I worked at a facility for Male teenage sexual offenders (yes, fun, fun..) . It was a job I would wish on no one. They didn't just have sexual issues. Most of them were ADHD, Bipolar, had issues with anger (violent), etc... We had one boy who turned Psychotic. It was like one week I was at work and he was his grumpy normal self. The next week I came to work and when I looked at him and looked at his eyes it was like "Bob no longer lives here...he is gone...I live here now." like he was possessed. (his name wasn't really Bob). In other words his face showed no emotion and his eyes were just blank/hollow looking. It was something I will never forget and I would recognize in a second if I saw it again. After two days and everyone being scared of him and him cutting some kid with a piece of metal he found outside, he was sent to a mental hospital. As far as I know, he is still in an institution.&lt;br /&gt;That was just one of my many stories I have from working there. Most of them unfortunatly, due to it being a sexual offender treatment facility, I being a Christian, should not repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Well, I got way off subject here.  The boy shooting the bus driver just brought back memories of work.&lt;br /&gt;What is so heavy on my heart about that is the kids who witnessed the shooting. That is a memory that they will carry with them for the rest of their lives. Also, at the age of 5 or 6, as the kindergartners would be, most kids are not capable of processing something like that. There is still an innocence to them and they have not usually been exposed to death yet. Today robbed them of that innocence. More than likely most of them will never want to get on another school bus. They will have nightmares, and they will try to understand what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; I pray that these children have good parents. Parents who attempt to explain what happened, parents who are there to help them feel safe, and parents who are there to hold them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the awesome night of praise I had at Church tonight. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to bring my nephew to church with me. I pray that somehow, even with his young age, he will one day know of the love you have for him. I hope he can continue to go to church with me, and be an example of you to his parents.&lt;br /&gt;God, I want to lift up those children in Stewart County to you tonight. Touch their hearts and help them to find peace. Let them grow up with no bad affects from this. Be with their parents, educators and counselors as they try to the find words to explain what happened and why, when they probably don't understand either. God I also want to ask that you be with the family of the bus driver. Comfort them and let them one day forgive the boy who did this.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, please be with the 14 year old boy. He is still a child who has commited a very grown up crime. Provide him with the help he needs and the understanding of the severity of what he did.&lt;br /&gt;In Jesus' name,  Amen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/10665741-110982439975843062?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110982439975843062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110982439975843062&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110982439975843062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110982439975843062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/03/this-world-is-not-my-home.html' title='This World Is Not My Home'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110964649298312474</id><published>2005-02-28T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T19:08:12.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow</title><content type='html'>It's snowing huge flakes outside.  I love snow.  Snow puts me in the kind of mood that sunshine puts others in.  You'de think with arthritus I would hate snow, not so. &lt;br /&gt;There is something I find so peaceful, pure, and romantic about snow.  The way the flakes float slowly to the ground, and the way they get stuck all over you when you're walking.  I also love being outside while it's snowing.  For some reason, I don't get cold (I am hot natured after all)  I just feel relaxed and at peace on the rare occasion I get to walk outside when it's snowing.  I live in the total wrong state for snow.  I do not enjoy driving in snow.  A downside to middle Tennessee getting snow is that lots of times we get ice also.  There is nothing worse than walking in snow that looks innocent, only to discover a layer of ice under it.  I also dislike driving in the icy on the bottom type of snow.&lt;br /&gt;The first Sunday I went to Stones River Church it was snowing when we got out of worship.  I had had a great time worshipping God and then walked out to snow. I'm sure I read to much into it, but I really took it to be a sign that I was in the right place.  &lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off to watch it snow.  (because I don't have anything else to do, so I can). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110964649298312474?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110964649298312474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110964649298312474&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110964649298312474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110964649298312474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/snow.html' title='Snow'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110954091393072095</id><published>2005-02-27T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-03T23:55:31.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>It is not often that a sermon holds my attention. I don't have ADHD, I just tend to daydream a lot. Todays sermon hit home with me. It was about Forgiveness. I hold on to so many things from the past. Even as far back as early elementary school and especially high school. It's so hard for me to forgive and forget. I remember every hurt, every unkind word, even when people probably never realized they had hurt my feelings. I am very sensitive, in case you haven't figured that out yet. I am so sensitive that I know when someone has hurt someone elses feelings if I am around. I don't know if it's facial expression or posture or maybe a combination of noverbal things that make me notice this. I guess I'm very in tune with other people's feelings. If I'm around someone who is depressed, I get depressed, grumpy, I get grumpy, etc...I wonder if thats normal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I got off subject, back to the sermon. In junior high and high school I went to a local private school. I had a horrible, horrible, six years there.  The problem was, being in a small school, I was with the same people all day long.   You see, I was an anxious kid. I still am. I had pretty bad anxiety growing up. It peaked at it's worst in high school. I missed a lot of school. I got teased and made fun of for this. I didn't want to go to school cause I would get teased, but if I didn't go, I would get teased when I went back. It was a neverending thing. I almost dropped out of school several times. I'm not a quitter, so I pushed myself and graduated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I graduated from high school ten years ago this May. I still have no desire to see most of the people I went to school with, and I still am not sure if I have totally forgiven them. Then there was the time in 6'th grade when this girl in my class had all the girls over but me. That one hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why can't I just put all this crap behind me and move on? What good does it do me to think back to those times? I am a total different person than I was then, but I still hold on to so much pain and hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is something I need to work on. I need to forgive all those people and realize that yes, they hurt me, but I'm here today and I'm fine and all that is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really needed to hear the sermon today. I woke up hurting a little (colitus, fun...fun...) and was debating staying home. I made myself shower and eat, took my med's and went to Church. I didn't feel wonderful, but I made it through. I went out to eat with some MTSU/Christian Center almuni from church. Had some good conversation, I hadn't seen one of them in a while. I didn't eat much. (I'm sure people think I don't ever eat.) I do eat, I just know better than to push it when my colon is acting up. I would rather eat at home where I have the privacy of my own potty. I don't go out to eat much because of this. The worst is when a date wants to take me to eat. Nerves and colons don't go well together. I'm always nervous on a date, add eating out and my colon to the picture and you get me not eating much. I also can't eat some things (salad, corn, most spicy foods, oranges...) Salads come with a lot of meals. It's hards to explain to someone why you can't eat the salad. No one wants to discuss that kind of thing while they are eating. It doesn't bother me to talk about it, but I have to remind myself that it bothers others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling a little lonely lately. I enjoy being single, but sometimes I miss the good stuff about dating. The closeness, cuddling, etc...Right now I'de give anything to have someone rub my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, this has been a really long and rambling post.  I'm going to take my Sunday afternoon nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110954091393072095?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110954091393072095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110954091393072095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110954091393072095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110954091393072095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110930943698033420</id><published>2005-02-24T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-24T21:30:36.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired</title><content type='html'>I'm tired tonight so this is going to be short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I babysat today.  The little girl (2 year old) was asleep the whole time,  so I didn't have to do anything.  The little bit of money I got was much needed though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little girl's  mom is 7 months pregnant. In her first pregnancy she had early labor and had to be hospitalized to stop it, it was barely caught in time.  This time, she has caught it early.  She felt some "tightening" yesterday morning.  Not really contractions, but not what you want to have this early on either.  They put her on medicine and the doctor told her today to go on bedrest.  Bedrest is next to impossible with a two year old.  Luckily her mom is probably going to come down to help out.  Please keep Mrs. Welling and her unborn baby in your prayers.  It needs to stay put for a few more weeks.  Also, pray for the two year old.  It must be so hard at that age to try and understand why mommy has to lay down and why mommy can't pick you up etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cold outside.  It was fairly warm yesterday and it's gonna be in the 50's again this weekend and then  get cold again. (55 or so is fairly warm to me, I'm hot natured).   I love cold weather, but my body won't let me enjoy it.  On the other hand my body doesn't like really hot weather either.  If it's over 85 or 90, I'm misserable.  You see in the winter I have arthritus and in the summer I don't just perspire, I Sweat!  I tend to stay inside as much as possible in the summer time. Also, medicine I occassionally take for my colitus makes it hard for me to cool down when I get hot (but I still sweat) .  My favorite time of year is fall and spring.  I have to deal with allergies during those seasons, but I can tolerate that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm rambling because I'm tired.  Off to bed I go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.  Is that how you spell sweat?  Doesn't look right for some reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110930943698033420?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110930943698033420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110930943698033420&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110930943698033420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110930943698033420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/tired.html' title='Tired'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110921020350135100</id><published>2005-02-23T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T17:59:02.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My God is Awesome</title><content type='html'>I took my nephew to church with me tonight. He behaved perfectly. I went to the college class (it worked out real well cause they meet in the nursery).&lt;br /&gt;When I was sitting there with people in the late teens/early twenties, I started thinking how I would give anything to be that age again and to be able to do so many things over again. I would do them much differently than I did. On the way home it hit me that I can't go back and change things I did, but through God's gift to me as a Christian, God has whiped my slate clean and he's forgiven me and it's as if those things never happened. I've asked him for forgiveness so many times. A few times it was for making the same wrong choice over and over again. For a long time I didn't feel worthy of his forgiveness. I felt like I didn't deserve it. The awesome thing is that I don't have to deserve it, God knows what is in my heart and as his child when my heart breaks because I messed up, Gods heart breaks too. He knows when I am truly sorry and when I ask him for forgiveness he grants it.&lt;br /&gt;So, my point is, I can keep living my life thinking about and regretting all the wrong choices I made, or I can move on, just like God has. I need to let go of some of the guilt I feel and some of the unworthiness I feel. I am worthy! Jesus died to make me worthy. Because of that, I feel truly humbled and blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110921020350135100?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110921020350135100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110921020350135100&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110921020350135100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110921020350135100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/my-god-is-awesome_23.html' title='My God is Awesome'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110912424621719447</id><published>2005-02-22T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T18:04:06.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taxes</title><content type='html'>I got my self employment tax down from $600.00 to $279.  This is thanks to a nifty little thing called the earned income credit.  Also, the free version of Turbo Tax helped me out quite a bit.  It pays to figure your taxes electronically instead of by hand.  Hopefully, this is the end of my tax stress this year.  Well, it will be after I come up with $279.00. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my hair cut today.  Added some layers and cut it a little shorter. Nothing major.  There is a couple at church that has looked familiar to me since I started going to Stones River. I couldn't figure out why.  It finally clicked today when I got my haircut.  Brent works there and his wife Elizabeth does hair.  In fact, Brent gave me one of my best hairwashings ever a year or so ago.  It wasn't the actual washing, it was the scalp massage after.  My scalp had never been so happy and relaxed  :)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I owe God a huge thanks for providing me with help for my taxes.  There is absolutly no way I could have paid 600 dollars.  279 is a lot, but it's much more reasonable!  I've always believed that God doesn't give you more than you can handle.  Maybe he works the same for taxes too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110912424621719447?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110912424621719447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110912424621719447&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110912424621719447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110912424621719447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/taxes.html' title='Taxes'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110879420363673679</id><published>2005-02-19T00:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-18T22:23:23.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't Sleep</title><content type='html'>It's 12:15 in the morning.  I can't sleep, so I thought I'de write a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching the Osbourne's on MTV.  That show always makes me glad for what I have and who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew was over today.  He was a little fussy.  He kept wanting more bottle. I'de say he's going through a growth spurt, but at three months I guess your always having a growth spurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a little better than yesterday.  I found out I can hopefully deduct some things from keeping Austin.  Right now, because I kept him in my home, I owe $600.00 in Self Employment Tax.  It's because they pay me and nothing goes to Social Security and FICA.  I thought I was going to not have to pay anything this year until I found out about the stupid self employment thing.  I made so little that when I figured out my income tax the standard deduction for being single and the itemized deduction canceled out my income so I would not even have to actually file if it weren't for the $600.00 in the blank down towards the bottom of my tax form.  I figured it up 5 times in the hope that I had missed something.  However, today I found out I should be able to deduct everything I bought fo him (stroller to have at my house, snacks, some toys etc...) so hopefully that will bring it down some.  I don't have $600.00.  I'm pretty sure the IRS doesn't care that I don't have the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm going to try to get some sleep.  I may just lay there, but at least I'll be resting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110879420363673679?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110879420363673679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110879420363673679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110879420363673679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110879420363673679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/cant-sleep.html' title='Can&apos;t Sleep'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110870068206018012</id><published>2005-02-17T22:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-17T20:24:42.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Title</title><content type='html'>Today was one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a great time with Quincy (my nephew) last night.  He was up at 1:30 a.m., 5:30 a.m., and for good at 7:30.  I feel the closest to him during those night feedings.  He will look my sister (his mom) in the eyes, his dad and me.  That makes me feel good.  We've bonded enough that he will look at me with a look of recognition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Quincy left I had planned on going back to bed.  I started looking at Tax stuff and ended up working on it all day.  Let's just say I was in a most unhappy mood when I finished.  I would explain, but  it's not something I should blog about.  I now know how to do my own taxes though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if there is a nice quiet country somewhere, with great weather and no taxes?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some good friends who have a cabin out in the middle of nowhere.  There is no running water (it uses a rainwater system) and no sewer.  The area is too rocky for a septic tank so it has this toilet that I had never heard of before in it.  You put this paper liner in it, go, stand up, push a button and the paper and whatever falls down a big hole.  At the bottom of the hole is a fire that incinerates it.  There is a sticker on the toilet that says "caution, always stand up before flushing."  I guess in case the fire should happen to flair up and burn your rear.  I will admit that before I would use it I had to make the owner promise it would not burn me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cabin has a wood stove for heat and a microwave.  It also has a sleeping loft, another room for sleeping and then a big room that I believe he is working on.  It does have electricity and a telephone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been promised the use of this cabin whenever I get the urge to get away.  I am one of those people who has to take some time every so often and clear my head.  Especially when I have things on my mind.  I feel the closest to God when I am alone with him, somewhere where there is no distractions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is getting to be about time to take them up on their cabin offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I started blogging.  Even though no one reads it.  I sleep a lot better when I blog right before bed.  I didn't the other night and it took me the longest time to go to sleep.  Speaking of sleep, I am off to get some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110870068206018012?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110870068206018012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110870068206018012&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110870068206018012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110870068206018012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/no-title.html' title='No Title'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110860912940047646</id><published>2005-02-16T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T18:58:49.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aunt Sarah</title><content type='html'>I went and kept my Nephew today for my sister to go run some errands.  Then I brought him to my house since my sis had to go to work.  Since my brother-in-law is not feeling well and my sister has some stuff to do in the morning, Quincy is spending the night.  I gave him a bath, bottle and rocked him.  I love holding a sleeping baby.  Their faces look so content and angelic.  I just layed my little munchkin down in the crib.  Hopefully this will be one of his good nights and he will sleep til 2 or 3 in the morning, take a bottle and go back to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;Watching Quincy tonight it hit me how truly in love with him I am.  He is so perfect.  He is a huge blessing.  My family really needed him.&lt;br /&gt;5 1/2 years ago my sister's other baby was still born.  We knew from early on that he was sick and wouldn't live outside the womb.  I'll never forget holding him that August morning minutes after he had been born.  He died during the delivery, it was too much for him.  They named him Christian Burton.  He was so beautiful.  His funeral was the next week.  I still go out to his grave every so often.  I know it's silly, but I talk to him when I'm there.  I told him he was going to have a baby brother (well, half brother. My sister divorced and remarried.)  I told him how the new baby would never replace him.  Quincy hasn't replaced him.  He's just made things a little more bearable. &lt;br /&gt;A few days after Quincy was born I was holding him and he was asleep.  I looked down at him and for just an instant it was as if I was holding Christian again.  I wept.  I cried because I was so grateful for Quincy.  I cried because I never got to do the things with Christian I had with Quincy (feed him, bathe him etc...).  That day was a day of healing for me.  A lot of hurt and anger I had been carrying with me since my nephew died was washed out of me by those tears.&lt;br /&gt;I still miss Christian and wonder what he would look like now.  I know that he is with God.  He's not sick anymore and he's a perfect baby now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Father,&lt;br /&gt;I thank you so much for bringing Quincy into my family.  He has allowed myself, and I'm sure others to heal a little from loosing Christian.  I know that Christian is with you and he must be a proud big brother. &lt;br /&gt;God, I want to ask that you be with me as my life is taking a turn towards something I never expected.  You know the obsticals I have to get past to make it work. I know if it's really your will, everything will work out.&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;br /&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/10665741-110860912940047646?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110860912940047646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110860912940047646&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110860912940047646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110860912940047646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/aunt-sarah.html' title='Aunt Sarah'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110843789927286197</id><published>2005-02-14T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T19:24:59.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>I just caught the tail end of a story on the news. It was talking about Children in my county and the number who have tried drugs and alcohol by the age of 10.&lt;br /&gt;10?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I am abnormal, but at 10 I didn't even know drugs existed.  The abnormal part is that I am 28 and have never drank alcohol either (not counting cough syrup).  I have always thought that beer smelled horrible and I am such a picky eater I have just never even been tempted to try.  Also, with my health stuff and taking several medications, alcohol probably wouldn't be a good idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll admit that I do not need my inhibitions lowered.  I shudder to think what I would do and with whom if I were drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different subject, my intestines hate me.  I am so very careful about not eating anything that will mess up my colon (If colon talk bothers you, leave now).  I am kind to my digestive system.  For some reason it just decides to turn on me.  This time it thought "we'll give her 4 straight days of uninterupted nausea for no apparent reason."  It does this to me every so often.  I have had enough morning sickness to have had about 10 kids.   It's also been crampy. Not bad enough to leave me doubled over like it does at times, just enough to be uncomfortable.  I had a bunch of errands to run this morning and I had to do them feeling queezy and crampy.  I also had to visit the bathroom once or twice during my errands.  I'm feeling better tonight, but haven't eaten much today.  No point if it's going to go through me anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will at times talk about my Ulcerative Colitus and Irritable Bowel.  Poop does not bother me.  I am open about it.  I wish I could put a link to a definition of Colitus, but I don't know how. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentines Day!  The extent of mine was a box of candy from my dad. Russel Stovers Caramels, my favorite!  I got my nephew two valentine balloons (yes I know you don't give balloons to baby's, but he is not old enough to try to eat it)  He looked at them and creased his brows as if pondering what these shiny floaty things were.  It entertained him for about 20 minutes.  A great improvement over his usual 30 second attention span.  He has discovered his hands.  He has found that they can go in his mouth and that they taste pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am off to bed,&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110843789927286197?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110843789927286197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110843789927286197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110843789927286197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110843789927286197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110833641684304359</id><published>2005-02-13T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T15:14:39.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning feeling like I had aged 50 years over night. My back hurt, my knees hurt, basically all of my joints. I couldn't figure out why my arthritus had kicked in so bad until I looked outside. It's rainy and cool. I ended up going back to bed and missing church. I'm moving around a little better now. It's going up and down stairs that seem to give me the most trouble lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learned how to keep going and ignore pain when I have to. Whether it's my Ulcerative colitus or Arthritus. Usually I can hide it and you can't even tell I'm hurting. I have got to teach my body that Church is a "have to" and push myself to be there. On the weekends it is just so much easier to not want to deal with stuff and go back to bed. Even though I take prescription medicine for Arthritus (not what they recalled) it seems to be worse lately. I guess I need to tell my doctor. There really isn't anything they can do about it though, it's just one of those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew came over this afternoon for a little bit.  He can always put a smile on my face no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm going to read the Sunday paper and find something to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110833641684304359?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110833641684304359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110833641684304359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110833641684304359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110833641684304359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/stuff.html' title='Stuff'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110825103552676856</id><published>2005-02-12T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T15:30:35.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boring Weekend</title><content type='html'>I kept my nephew last night.   He's starting to look more like a baby than a newborn.  He needed a bath and so did I, so we took one together.  He is so funny in the tub.  I support his head with my hand and his little rear floats up to the top of the water and he kicks his legs.  He's like a little fish.  He grins and coo's and we hurry before he decides to pee pee in the water or worse, poop.  A baby with no diaper on is dangerous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the grocery store this afternoon (just another part of my exciting life - note the sarcasm)&lt;br /&gt;I thought that 4:00 on a Saturday afternoon would be a good time to go to Kroger.  HAHA!  Everyone on my side of Murfreesboro seemed to have the same idea.  The lady in front of me in line looked like she was buying a months worth of groceries.  Keep in mind that I am single.  A full cart of groceries looks like a month's worth to me.  In reality it's probably a week's worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It so nice out today, sunny and I think around 60.  No jacket for me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had something more exciting to post about, no actually I guess I don't.  I kind of like my life the way it is,  Boring and no drama.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110825103552676856?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110825103552676856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110825103552676856&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110825103552676856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110825103552676856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/boring-weekend.html' title='Boring Weekend'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110809895648696322</id><published>2005-02-10T23:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T21:15:56.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pray for</title><content type='html'>Once last thing.  A very close friend of mine's husband, Gary, is having back surgery in the morning.  Take a moment and pray for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110809895648696322?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110809895648696322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110809895648696322&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110809895648696322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110809895648696322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/pray-for.html' title='pray for'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110809808495500777</id><published>2005-02-10T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T21:01:24.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>unemployed</title><content type='html'>Well, today was Austin's last day.  I didn't cry like I thought I would.  Everything I did with him today I kept thinking "this is the last time I'll change his diaper, fix him lunch, put him in the car seat, hold him in my lap etc..."  What a long day this was.&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm unemployed.  I've got to find a job SOON!  Bills don't pay themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found out my baby sister will be going to a new school next year.  It kinda stinks cause she'll be in her last year of Elementary school.  They are taking a school across town that has poor test scores and converting it into preschool and high achievers for grades  3 - 6 (why is my 6 smaller than the 3 and raised up higher? Or is the 3 lower? Maybe it won't post that way.)  My sister is in Merit, which is the gifted program for our local city schools.  One good thing about this move is that it should alleviate behavioral problems that you normally have in a classroom.  If your there and you misbehave they can ship you back to regular school.  I hope this will make her have a really great 6'th grade year.  I can't believe how fast she is growing up.  Seems like only yesterday we were at the beach for the first time, watching her tentively touch the sand, not sure what to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, I can't seem to get spell check to work on here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110809808495500777?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110809808495500777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110809808495500777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110809808495500777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110809808495500777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/unemployed.html' title='unemployed'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110800852082332682</id><published>2005-02-09T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-09T20:08:40.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Step Ahead</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to figure out how I would be able to not babysit Austin anymore.  I've gotten so close to him and I love him so much.  I couldn't figure out how to tell his parents that after keeping him for a year, it was time for me to move on.&lt;br /&gt;After a long time of praying for God to show me what he wants me to do with my life, I think I finally have an answer.  I know one thing very obvious, it is time for me to stop keeping Austin.&lt;br /&gt;Last week I was angry at his parents. I decided ok, this is it, they need to find another babysitter.  I felt like the situation that had made me angry was God making it easier for me to tell them.  Well, I didn't have to.   Austin's dad called me today and said he needed to come over and talk.  I tried to imagine what he wanted to talk about. I had thought of every possibility except what it actually was.  It seems that they had out Austin on a waiting list for a daycare center close to their house over a year ago. Well, out of the blue, the center called last night and said they had a spot open up for him.  He starts next week.&lt;br /&gt;While I will miss him, Austin needs to be with other kids.  He is a redheaded, 16 month old wild child.  He can be the sweetest baby I have ever known and other times it's like he's already in the terrible two's.  I never thought what they say about redheads and their tempers was true until I started keeping Austin.  I can vouch for the fact that in his case, it's true.&lt;br /&gt;I have been his babysitter since he was 3 months old.  He sat up alone for the first time at my house, took some of his first steps at my house and I have watched his vocabulary go from just a few words to well over 60 words.  He is one smart little boy. &lt;br /&gt;So now I know it's official, it's time for me to move on to a new job.  It's wierd how God makes everything work out.  As I mentioned yesterday, I think I know what God has planned for me career wise.  Two weeks ago it just suddenly came to me and made total sense.  I'm not ready to Blog about it though.  I know that whatever my future holds I want to serve God.  I want to help people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. why can't I spell check?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110800852082332682?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110800852082332682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110800852082332682&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110800852082332682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110800852082332682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/one-step-ahead.html' title='One Step Ahead'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110797785140145620</id><published>2005-02-09T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-09T11:37:31.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuck</title><content type='html'>I re-read last nights post.  Sorry, it's awfully(I don't even know a word to describe it) I guess sappy.  Also, I can't seem to get spell check to work for me.  I click on the little ABC button at the top of my draft and nothing happens.  So, if I have a bunch of mistakes, oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110797785140145620?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110797785140145620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110797785140145620&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110797785140145620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110797785140145620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/yuck.html' title='Yuck'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110792175497414103</id><published>2005-02-08T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-08T20:03:05.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies</title><content type='html'>I kept my nephew tonight. He's two and a half months and he is precious. He has big dimples when he smiles and a head full of dark hair. If I ever figure out how to post pictures on here, I'll post one of him.&lt;br /&gt;For as long as I can remember all I ever wanted to do when I grew up was be a wife and a mother. Life doesn't always pan out the way you thought it would when you were a kid. I have no potential future husband in my life. I'm not even sure that marriage is for me. The last two years I have embraced being single and totally focusing on other things. The hardest thing for me is motherhood. I have this very strong need to be a mother. Maybe it's my biological clock, I don't know. I have this huge amount of love that I feel for children I don't even have. If that makes sense. When I was 22 or 23 I found out that due to some health problems I had and continue to have, I might never be able to have children. This was a huge, huge blow to me. When I was 7 years old I used to change my cousins diapers and feed him his bottles. I've been hooked ever since.&lt;br /&gt;Since I started keeping the 16 month old that I currently babysit three days a week, I have realized something. I can love a child that isn't mine just as strongly as I could love my own. I hope to one day have the opportunity to adopt. That's the subject of many prayers for me. To be a Mother one day, maybe even to a special needs child.&lt;br /&gt;When I first started keeping Austin it was supposed to be for three or four months. It has been a year now. I know it's time to move on so to speak. I need to earn more money and I'm really feeling pushed to do something else. I think I know what the something else is, but I'm not ready to share it just yet. Anyway, as I mentioned in my last post, I am not a fan of change.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have a very hard time letting go of Austin when that time comes.  I need prayers for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God,&lt;br /&gt;You know what areas in my life I am struggling with. Please guide me in my decisions about my future. Help me make the right choices. Thank you for all you have blessed me with in my life. Also, thank you for the renewed relationship I have had with my sister since my nephew was born. Help it to continue to grow and blossom so that one day I will be able to bring up the subject of you.&lt;br /&gt;In your son's most holy name,&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;br /&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/10665741-110792175497414103?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110792175497414103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110792175497414103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110792175497414103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110792175497414103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/babies.html' title='Babies'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10665741.post-110783582840056670</id><published>2005-02-07T22:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T20:10:28.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes All Around Me</title><content type='html'>    I have never liked change.  I get into a certain routine and as boring as it sounds, I'm content.  I'm not sure if being content is a good thing though.?  It's a good feeling, but shouldn't I always be trying to improve myself?&lt;br /&gt;    I know I should be trying to improve my relationship with God.  To do that, things have to change.  When I feel stale and stuck in a rut at one place in my life, then it's time to make a change.  Seeing as how I don't like change, I let myself be stale and in a rut for two years.  I had gone to this same church for 18 years (since I was 10).  I was baptized at this church.  My family attends this church.  In a way I felt attached to this church.  But it was like my relationship with God was hitting a brick wall.  It had no where left to go.  I'm not saying that I am such a great Christian I had learned everything there was to learn.  Please don't take it that way.  I made a lot of mistakes the last eight years.  The last three I have tried really hard to change myself.  Somewhere along the lines of doing this, I discovered that my church didn't "fit" me anymore.  It didn't fit into the desire I had to worship God in a different way. &lt;br /&gt;    The Christian Student Center at Middle Tennessee State University really opened my eyes to true worship.  It's not just about going to church and going through the motions every Sunday.  It's about the feeling I get when I truly worship God.  I feel my heart swell and I am totally focused.  I feel God's presence and a love for God like I have never felt.  I feel the energy from everyone else who is present.  To go to devotionals at the center on Monday nights and feel this way, and then go to my Church on Wednesdays and Sundays  and not feel much of anything was always a big letdown.  I found a church a month or so ago that is a lot like the student center.  They are not your typical Church or Christ.  They are alive and happy. &lt;br /&gt;    So, yes, I am admitting that change is not always a bad thing.  There have been some other changes in my life lately that I will post about another time.  I'm still taking baby steps toward accepting that my life needs to be shaken up a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10665741-110783582840056670?l=sarahew.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/feeds/110783582840056670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10665741&amp;postID=110783582840056670&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110783582840056670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10665741/posts/default/110783582840056670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahew.blogspot.com/2005/02/changes-all-around-me.html' title='Changes All Around Me'/><author><name>Sarah W.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17799825366823480218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
