<?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-28417554</id><updated>2012-02-18T04:33:56.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Question marks and parenthesis...</title><subtitle type='html'>A place to spill my thoughts, questions, dreams and the moments that probably only I find funny....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28417554.post-8413855638106692914</id><published>2008-03-22T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T06:59:58.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I leave in 48 hours....</title><content type='html'>In exactly 48 hours I will on a plane, heading to my final destination of Cape Town, South Africa. I've done quite a bit of preparing...preliminary packing, getting all my duck in a row and most everything taken care of. After worrying that my dog my actually have no home for a week, last night a sweet new friend offered to give him a home for the week. All in all, I think I have everything done that I can before I leave....except maybe ONE more run to target (I think this will be the 5th time this week!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one part of me that I have no idea how to prepare though...as cheesy as it sounds,  I have no idea how to prepare my heart in all of this. My dear old roomate Murielle said that when she got off the plane in Cape Town, it was her first experience stepping onto African soil. And the interesting part is that when you get off the plane there, you don't step into a concourse like an American airport...you step right onto the actual ground.  She said for her, that there was this crazy moment of knowing that you've been waiting for this for a very long time, and finally it was coming to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's going to be like that. I couldn't sleep last night (like usual this week) and so I grabbed an old journal from 3 years ago and starting poking through. Since it all started probably 3 years prior to that, my dreams about going to Africa were fully realized at that point. I have specific entries talking about my hopes of spending time in South Africa working with AIDS orphans and doing photography. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip has taken on an interesting tone in that I'm "scouting" for so much more. I think it's my blind date with South Africa :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Maybe it's been more like online dating.... I mean I've at least seen pictures. Haha....after all my standing on a pedastol and talking about how online dating is going to be the end of society as we know it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I doubt many people even check this anymore, since I'm so infrequent at writing. But I type faster than I write, so this seemed like a good mode to get my early morning thoughts out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-8413855638106692914?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/8413855638106692914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=8413855638106692914' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8413855638106692914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8413855638106692914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-leave-in-48-hours.html' title='I leave in 48 hours....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-8672337994025102534</id><published>2008-02-23T07:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T07:07:59.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/R8A2t3gsEbI/AAAAAAAAABM/5t7sO44wO98/s1600-h/benefit72rgb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/R8A2t3gsEbI/AAAAAAAAABM/5t7sO44wO98/s320/benefit72rgb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170192533844398514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come and check it out! Help us raise some funds for our trip to South Africa!!! Should be alot of fun....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-8672337994025102534?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/8672337994025102534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=8672337994025102534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8672337994025102534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8672337994025102534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2008/02/come-and-check-it-out-help-us-raise.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/R8A2t3gsEbI/AAAAAAAAABM/5t7sO44wO98/s72-c/benefit72rgb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28417554.post-7305588656859227712</id><published>2008-02-03T22:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T22:25:51.409-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why I can't sleep tonight. I've had a full, wonderful weekend -- showing my best friends from Ohio all that Colorado life has to offer...I guess there are just times when your mind keeps you up even when your eyes and body are so sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days I've been awake to the cost of my dreams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm keenly aware of just how big my dreams are - the ones that I've tried to put to sleep, or at least mute for now...in the weakest moments, you try to silence them by settling, while all the long knowing it won't work... but they are embedded enough within your heart that in the quiet moments they creep back in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is such a difference between idealistic dreams that you have when you are younger and anything seems possible...and then as you grow up a bit you realize that it's actually time to step into the things you've always claimed you wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The jolting reality for me has been the cost of it all. Just because it's a dream doesn't mean it will come easy. I'm sure for some people that's nothing new. But for me, I've always been handed everything I wanted without much effort. Everything was always within reach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is asking me to walk into a new stage. One where dreaming requires paying. Often in waiting, deep pain and honest evaluation of the heart. Saying no to the great enemy of God's best -- which is the "really really great". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like Jesus is calling my bluff on everything I say I've wanted when I see what that actually means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no other option though. I can't stay asleep to the desires in my heart, I must fully embrace them and step forward into the pain to one day reach the goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sounds really dramatic as I write it, but it feels so real within me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose everything deep and heartfelt in life sounds super cheesy if it's not viewed in the right light.&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/28417554-7305588656859227712?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7305588656859227712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7305588656859227712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7305588656859227712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7305588656859227712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-not-sure-why-i-cant-sleep-tonight.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-5455606835662754646</id><published>2008-01-08T14:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T14:56:52.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've decided that most of my favoriote moments in movies include airports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do most of my favoriote moments in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to travel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-5455606835662754646?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/5455606835662754646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=5455606835662754646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5455606835662754646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5455606835662754646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2008/01/ive-decided-that-most-of-my-favoriote.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-6582233005595928033</id><published>2007-12-02T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T19:48:04.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evang-a-dating</title><content type='html'>Today I was working on a presentation at one of those coffee shops that you speak in hushed tones while you are working...if you speak at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except, for this swanky couple sitting on the couch deeply gazing into each other's eyes. They had a Bible out and were pouring over it. And talking very loudly. So of course I listened in. It wasn't long before I realized that the guy, who seemed to be a Christian, was participating in the age old ritual of evang-a-dating. In a somewhat sultry voice he was reading the scripture to his lady friend, and sharing with her who Jesus is. All the while making himself as desirable and flirtatious as possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me want to puke on my boots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-6582233005595928033?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/6582233005595928033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=6582233005595928033' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6582233005595928033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6582233005595928033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/12/evang-dating.html' title='Evang-a-dating'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-6763808116408695277</id><published>2007-12-01T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T14:52:48.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday's</title><content type='html'>....are the day when I try to pretend like I'm not an adult yet...I actually for the past month have worn Cons every Saturday...mostly because they are forbidden "shoes that can float" at work. I also sleep in past my usual 5:30 wake up time...and just for the heck of it I eat a little junk food. I consider it rebelling against the life I've created for myself the other 6 days of the week. A sabbath from responsibility if you will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm living with two dear friends, one of which is an old high school friend, I looked through his CD's and found a band I remember loving in high school. The nostalgic side of me is sad to report that I didn't enjoy it nearly as much. In fact I'm afraid that I had quite bad music taste at that point in my life :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think starting next week I'm going to try an hour of responsibility-less-ness a day, rather than pretending I'm five to ten years younger for a day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-6763808116408695277?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/6763808116408695277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=6763808116408695277' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6763808116408695277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6763808116408695277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/12/saturdays.html' title='Saturday&apos;s'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-7442095602899325958</id><published>2007-10-30T22:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T22:03:25.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An bit from my friend Grace's blog...(a quote from a quote. Awesome. Seth will love it.)</title><content type='html'>Simplicity is part of what it means to be a follower of Christ. Foster ends the book with statements that make tomorrow worth well worth living for, whether you are living cross-culturally in Africa or waking up in an American bed: “The joyful paradox in all this is while simplicity is complex it is also simple. In the final analysis we are not the ones who have to untangle all the intricacies of our complex world. There are not many things we have to keep in mind -in fact, only one: to attentive to the voice of the true Shepard. There are not many decisions we have to make -in fact, only one: to seek first his Kingdom and his righteousness. There are not many tasks we have to do -in fact, only one: to obey him in all things…Jesus invited people to share his yoke, adding that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. Our only task is to keep in step with him. He chooses to direct and leads the way. As we walk step by step with him, we soon discover that we have lost the crushing burden of needing to take care of ourselves and get our own way, and we discover that the burden is indeed light. We come into the joyful, simple life of hearing and obeying.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-7442095602899325958?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7442095602899325958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7442095602899325958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7442095602899325958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7442095602899325958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/10/bit-from-my-friend-grace.html' title='An bit from my friend Grace&apos;s blog...(a quote from a quote. Awesome. Seth will love it.)'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-5034756137369739868</id><published>2007-10-29T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T21:09:34.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday I made two purchases that I am fairly convinced improved the quality of my life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Arrested Development Season One on DVD. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. 450 Count Egyptian Cotton Sheets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying both of them right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-5034756137369739868?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/5034756137369739868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=5034756137369739868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5034756137369739868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5034756137369739868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/10/yesterday-i-made-two-purchases-that-i.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-6316897181677108470</id><published>2007-10-27T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T09:33:10.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recovering when things are lost. ...</title><content type='html'>I had a realization last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd lost my dancing shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not literally of course. I will dance in any shoes, even if that mean turning my ankle repeatedly in really high heels on a stage in front of a few hundred people. (Yes that actually happened a few months ago. I think it was my most embarrassing moment.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But last night a little crew of us went to a concert, which as a side note was really entertaining. There was the strangest man who was the singer for this band, "Panther" that opened up for Architecture in Helsinki. While he was singing and dancing (imagine continuous Elaine from Seinfield dancing), my new friend Steve and I were deliberating if he was on drugs...or needed to be because he was crazy. (Which brought up a point that I should explore in another blog - why do we pay lots of money to see musicians wig out on their drugs on stage?) But - then I realized that he was a little crazy, but also feeling so free to dance and be silly and enjoy himself. I was determined to find that place as well, despite a long week at work and my whole body and emotions being exhausted. So as Architecture in Helsinki came on I tried to find my dancing shoes...only to realize that I had shelved them at some point in the past few years, so that I had more room for "sensibility" and "maturity". Yuck. I've become boring I think. At least I'm bored with me in that sense. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided I want to be the old woman who is always laughing from the belly...not afraid to dance in ANY sceanrio...and lives life with richness and fullness and constant adventure. I can't believe that I already let some of that die in me in my mid-twenties! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more than this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God there's more than this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-6316897181677108470?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/6316897181677108470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=6316897181677108470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6316897181677108470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6316897181677108470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/10/recovering-when-things-are-lost.html' title='Recovering when things are lost. ...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-6190159074527445612</id><published>2007-09-05T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T13:05:01.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seth LOVES when I publish quotes instead of my own thoughts...</title><content type='html'>As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote in his seminal work on Christian community, Life Together,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community even though their personal intentions may be ever so honest, earnest and sacrificial.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I agree. I see that in work in me and my relationships sometimes too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thoughts from other people?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-6190159074527445612?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/6190159074527445612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=6190159074527445612' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6190159074527445612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6190159074527445612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/09/seth-loves-when-i-publish-quotes.html' title='Seth LOVES when I publish quotes instead of my own thoughts...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-4467361022515787911</id><published>2007-09-01T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T23:25:24.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Suburban Scootering</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, I moved my scooter to the suburbs. Now, the minute anyone asks me about where I live, I'm quick to say that I adore the people that I live with...Brad and Kate (and their dog Luna) have been such a blessing and such incredible friends. What I miss though is the city. I love living in the middle of it all...never really having to go anywhere that is farther than my bike...or scooter...can take me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight Bobby, Missi and I decided to go see a movie at the cheap theatre. And I thought (with the coaxing of Missi)..."Damn it. I don't care if I'm in the suburbs. I'm taking my scooter to the movie theatre."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. Sometimes I could use that little voice in my head saying "Don't do it!" to be a little louder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm kind of glad I didn't listen to that quiet voice on the other hand...sure...I was driving up a hill when my scooter wouldn't go more than 17 mph....and true, we were on Sheridan where the speed limit is 40. But it was an adventure. And really really funny. And I didn't die. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the suburbs....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...oh my very weak scooter. It's like driving a glorified lawnmower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-4467361022515787911?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/4467361022515787911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=4467361022515787911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4467361022515787911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4467361022515787911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/09/suburban-scootering.html' title='Suburban Scootering'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-4712316792497515230</id><published>2007-08-27T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T17:24:29.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I did it...</title><content type='html'>...took a full time job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my what am I thinking!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll call this my expirement with a schedule. :) I'm not sure how that's going to work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New adventures to come...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...it's amazing how nervous I am!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-4712316792497515230?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/4712316792497515230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=4712316792497515230' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4712316792497515230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4712316792497515230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-did-it.html' title='I did it...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-6723882888267596916</id><published>2007-08-04T21:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T21:02:47.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thriller Part Two</title><content type='html'>Tim found this one...it's way way way creepier than you are ready for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thriller lives on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=879021&amp;fr=&amp;cache=1"&gt;http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=879021&amp;fr=&amp;cache=1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-6723882888267596916?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/6723882888267596916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=6723882888267596916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6723882888267596916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6723882888267596916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/08/thriller-part-two.html' title='Thriller Part Two'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-7010533367716999452</id><published>2007-07-28T23:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T23:53:33.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminders..</title><content type='html'>Do you ever have a moment where something you should just know all the time hits you out of nowhere and you suddenly are shocked by the remeberance of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I was sitting with a group of dear friends...smoking the hookah, drinking some drinks in honor of our British friends who are visiting from London. As I sat there, waiting patiently for my next turn with the hookah, I was filled with excitement watching James meet all the incredible people who were there. And then it hit me. I get to see these people all the time. I have AMAZING friends. Alot of them. Some people are blessed to meet one or two people that they really connect with -- share life with -- who really really understand them. I have so many of those, who joined us that night and who were sitting in other places all over this city. How did I ever become entangled with all these absolutely fantastic people?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a lucky girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I need to remember more often just how blessed I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-7010533367716999452?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7010533367716999452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7010533367716999452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7010533367716999452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7010533367716999452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/07/reminders.html' title='Reminders..'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-7702714902303390596</id><published>2007-07-27T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T22:29:05.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I moved here exactly five years ago today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a strange thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five years ago, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed. 19. On an adventure to another state with people I barely knew, but had already took up a great deal of space in my heart. I had no idea what the heck I was doing. I came with two carfuls of stuff and a few friends that drove me out to help. All I knew is that I wanted to come out here because... so oddly...in a dream... God had spoken to me that He wanted to change the world... but my part was to move out to Denver Colorado, and help other people who wanted to change that corner of the world. So, I dropped everything and came. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's absolutely impossible to summarize the past five years.  There is no one word, one phrase...not even a simple picture that I can give to encapsulate it all. Believe me, I've been trying all day. There have been a million moments -- laughing so hard that I cry...crying so hard that I end up laughing...meeting the most fantastic people ever....watching lives change, lives ruin, and every step in between. Falling in love -- with a city, with people, with life...and most of all with Jesus. My dad being diagnosed with cancer. My best friends meeting the people that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. Graudating from art school. Trips...Mexico, Italy, England twice, ... Seattle... North Carolina, California... Waco, Texas....Atlanta...each of those places are major stories in themselves. Living with so many people -- Kate, Jontee, Bethany, Kristi, Christy, Jolene, Lindsey, Missi, Angie, Jolene, Bethany, Christina, Skyler, Seth, Heather, Scott, Jeremy, Caleb, Brad, Kate, Murielle, Renee, Sarah, Allison (24 people...that HAS to be a record for a five year period!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning. By grace. And sometimes the hard way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea the adventure that I was in for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it makes me want to be ready for whatever the next adventure looks like. Maybe that means continuing the adventure here. Or elsewhere. I dunno. Pete and I decided tonight that Pete, Amy and I should plant a church in South Africa or England. Sounds good to me :).  Or something. That's the funny thing about these sorts of things...it like for me at least I don't get to choose them. They choose me....the adventure...the calling...whatever you want to call it. The adventure calls out, and there is nothing you can do but run full force toward it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back on the past five years makes me want to always be that brave. To say yes to the dreams that creep up in my heart...or literally in my dreams. To trust Jesus as He writes the story in me and through me. To go forward even when you don't know where you're going. To believe in the maps you hold even if they seem conflicting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; To keep walking when for all you can tell you don't have a map at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-7702714902303390596?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7702714902303390596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7702714902303390596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7702714902303390596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7702714902303390596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-moved-here-exactly-five-years-ago.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-2771015733260578354</id><published>2007-07-26T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T06:57:16.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lions and tigers and ....hippos....oh my.</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a very strange dream that was totally a combination of my last conversations and thoughts before I went to bed...the best part though, was the section of my dream where I was in Africa, with my friend Andrea, on a safari.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were on a safari in South Africa, though for some reason, there was only me, Andrea and one other person, and it seemed that Andrea was the closest thing that I had to a tour guide. Suddenly, we looked across and there were two hippos charging our way. Andrea made us hit the ground and play dead. Apparently, this is the only way to be safe from a hippo attack. As we waited as the hippos approached us and then slowly started to sniff all around us, Andrea told me that if we played dead, they wouldn't eat us, but I totally didn't believe her. I remember thinking, "I really never thought I'd die from a hippo attack on a safari. Crazy." Then she let me know that if they started to nibble on my shoulders, that was the first sign that they would eat me anyhow. I woke up as they were starting to nibble on my shoulders! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did some internet research this morning, and although hippos are considered the most deadly animal in Africa due to their aggression towards humans, there was no articles on how to prevent a hippo attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm going to Africa later this year, I'm going to hope that either a.) that wasn't a prophetic insight into how I'm going to die there on a safari or b.) I was getting some divine revelation on how to survive a hippo attack that hasn't yet been leaked onto the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or I shouldn't watch Man vs. Wild with Brad and Kate before I go to bed next time. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-2771015733260578354?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/2771015733260578354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=2771015733260578354' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/2771015733260578354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/2771015733260578354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/07/lions-and-tigers-and-hipposoh-my.html' title='Lions and tigers and ....hippos....oh my.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28417554.post-5822531483264098373</id><published>2007-07-02T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T22:22:34.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've had a couple of silly posts lately, but tonight at womens' group we were looking at a chapter in the book of Luke in the Bible. Basically, Jesus goes back to where He grew up, after preforming all these incredible miracles - healing people, releasing demons from people, raising people from the dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he gets back to his hometown, people are really doubtful that's he's as incredible as the stories they've heard. They know Jesus -- they were around when he was getting his diapers changed and going through the ackward teenage years. That guy is now doing miracles? Yeah right. And Jesus responds by saying that of course people don't get honor in their hometown...he expects this from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to look at the people from where he grew up and think that they are being shortsighted or just plain dumb. But I was thinking about it and I wonder if it was just too hard to imagine Jesus outside of the box that they had comfortably put him in. It was easy to imagine him as a carpenter, brother and son that they had always known. It took alot more effort to imagine him as a Healer, Messiah and Saviour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it brought me back to myself and the way I view Jesus. Am I willing to keep Jesus in the little boxes that I've put him in? Consider him only in context of the ways I'm famliar and comfortable with (aka my "hometown" for Jesus)...or am I willing to honor him by letting him reveal the fullness of who he is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the truth is, Jesus isn't honored when I keep him small, safe and comfortable. He's not honored when I try to keep him in the box of how I understand him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't want to serve a God so small that I can wrap my mind around him anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must allow him to teach me new things...bring me to new places...and experience parts of him that I never have before, so that I can know him more fully and in reality. But, that means that he must do new things so that I can understand him more fully. If he doesn't operate outside my box and my understanding I'll always see him in the same small ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I pray that he'll keep me on my toes as I race to understand more about him. That he'll save me from my small perspective and safe grounds so that I can experience his fullness -- and in that laugh all my laughter and weep all my tears. Experience it all...and all of Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-5822531483264098373?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/5822531483264098373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=5822531483264098373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5822531483264098373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5822531483264098373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/07/ive-had-couple-of-silly-posts-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-2440340482698603113</id><published>2007-06-21T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T15:15:48.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Question...</title><content type='html'>...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that "good" guys fashion causes me to question as I drive down the street:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that a guy with great fashion sense ... or a homeless man?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something wrong with the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe just with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-2440340482698603113?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/2440340482698603113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=2440340482698603113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/2440340482698603113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/2440340482698603113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/06/quick-question.html' title='Quick Question...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-4212104697701645965</id><published>2007-06-16T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T23:43:02.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night Laughs</title><content type='html'>A few years ago there was a snow storm in the spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A blizzard in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Odd things happened that day. Hours of watching movies, smoking hookahs, drinking special hot chocolate before noon...and watching two DVD's of Michael Jackson DVDS. Some vows were made -- when each of us got married, we would preform the Thriller dance as an important traditional part of the reception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, we had the amazing pleasure of learning the dance with about 15 friends, (maybe more...I'm bad with numbers), and getting to preform at two of the crew's weddings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I do say so myself...we kicked ass at it. It was a beautiful masterpiece...or something :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought perhaps we were creative and unique...but tonight I'm having some trouble falling asleep tonight, so somehow, in the way that is only capable in late night internet searchs, I found myself on YouTube...viewing MANY other weddings doing the thriller dance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is SO funny I can barely explain it. You need to search YouTube for this. One video even made it on to Good Morning America!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...deep laughter is so great...particularly when you are laughing so hard at almost one in the morning, but you're trying to quiet yourself down so you don't wake up sleeping roomates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-4212104697701645965?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/4212104697701645965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=4212104697701645965' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4212104697701645965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4212104697701645965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/06/late-night-laughs.html' title='Late Night Laughs'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-2053301418648751688</id><published>2007-06-11T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T19:35:56.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love the old tunes that still speak so much truth</title><content type='html'>(...and yaye for listening Sufjan Steven's Christmas album in June...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come Thou Fount of every blessing &lt;br /&gt;Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Streams of mercy, never ceasing,&lt;br /&gt;Call for songs of loudest praise&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Teach me some melodious sonnet,&lt;br /&gt;Sung by flaming tongues above. &lt;br /&gt;Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it, &lt;br /&gt;Mount of God's unchanging love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I raise my Ebenezer; &lt;br /&gt;Hither by Thy help I'm come; &lt;br /&gt;And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, &lt;br /&gt;Safely to arrive at home. &lt;br /&gt;Jesus sought me when a stranger, &lt;br /&gt;Wandering from the fold of God; &lt;br /&gt;He, to rescue me from danger,&lt;br /&gt;Interposed His precious blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O to grace how great a debtor&lt;br /&gt;Daily I'm constrained to be!&lt;br /&gt;Let that grace now like a fetter, &lt;br /&gt;Bind my wandering heart to Thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, &lt;br /&gt;Prone to leave the God I love; &lt;br /&gt;Here's my heart, O take and seal it,&lt;br /&gt;Seal it for Thy courts above.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-2053301418648751688?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/2053301418648751688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=2053301418648751688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/2053301418648751688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/2053301418648751688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/06/love-old-tunes-that-still-speak-so-much.html' title='Love the old tunes that still speak so much truth'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-8419962495582085076</id><published>2007-05-14T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T08:37:56.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm moving. Again.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I started the awful process of moving again. I giggled as I arrived at Brad and Kate's house with a few suitcases and duffle bags full of clothes, realizing that it was a little like going backwards in time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I never realized that it's pretty true that sometimes you have to go backwards to go forwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, about six months ago, I moved out of Brad and Kate's house after a several month stay in their lovely home. They are two of the most fantastic people I've ever lived with, let alone just known. They never stopped making me laugh (they are quite "punny"), or in general just helping me think and sort through life. And then I moved in with four other wonderful gals in a house about 3 miles east...I guess I never realized that in the meantime... that little hiatus of living with Brad and Kate...some things changed in me. It's hard to describe exactly what happened -- why as I've been in my house with the gals for the past six months, I've just known that something wasn't right here for me. And even when I try to describe it to people all I can really say is that I guess I just am in a different stage of life that I thought that I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I pack all my stuff back up to go back to Brad and Kate's...my sort of in between...growing grounds...something in me is hopeful in a weird way. I think it's because there are so many times in my life where I feel like nothing is happening...I'm not growing...there is no progress being made. And if I can't see progress in purpose in my life, I get really down. But I think that sometimes we don't even realize the deep works that God is doing IN us....behind the scenes...quietly. Growing us up. Preparing us for what's next. And in some ways, going backwards is the way forward...you realize that you don't belong in the past anymore. And that's refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been praying that I won't stay in any season a day too long. And at the same time that I would embrace and soak in everything that each season provides for me. You can't go back. You only get to do each once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-8419962495582085076?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/8419962495582085076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=8419962495582085076' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8419962495582085076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8419962495582085076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-moving-again.html' title='I&apos;m moving. Again.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-4695486691702236916</id><published>2007-05-04T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T12:29:00.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today.</title><content type='html'>I am having one of those days where my room feels safe and I don't really want to leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's nice to work for yourself. No one cares if you don't get out of bed to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-4695486691702236916?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/4695486691702236916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=4695486691702236916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4695486691702236916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4695486691702236916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/05/today.html' title='Today.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-6877245741517989014</id><published>2007-04-09T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T22:30:24.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wide Awake</title><content type='html'>Usually I have the problem of waking up at 6 am and not being able to go back to sleep. Tonight I seem to have the problem of not being able to get to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Equally lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight at my women's group I spent some time thinking about "impossible" things. We were talking about Abraham and when God called him (Gen 12) how ridiculous the whole thing was -- he was being promised all these things that were nearly impossible to reconcile to his current circumstances, by a God that he had never met before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really was one of those eye opening moments, where I realized that I have been so lucky to have a track record of God showing up and doing amazing things in my life. Time and time again as He's promised me things -- things that seemed crazy at the time -- He has delivered and those things have happened. I'm seeing even more of that in this season of my life than ever before. And yet I continue to not trust Him over and over again -- spend my time worrying and making "Plan B"...and "Plan C"...and "Plan D" (just in case, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's exciting to remember...again...that I can dream big...and that even those dreams probably pale in comparison to all God has promised and the surprises He has in store.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-6877245741517989014?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/6877245741517989014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=6877245741517989014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6877245741517989014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/6877245741517989014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/04/wide-awake.html' title='Wide Awake'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-3822436193115939434</id><published>2007-03-12T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T21:38:49.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>addendum</title><content type='html'>i went through the carwash again today. with my car. that's how much i love it. i would do it again if it weren't night time and all the carwashs were closed. and i suppose i would need another car to wash. it would be silly to do mine again. i guess i could ride my scooter through, but that would be a whole different type of expierence and not one i'm sure i'm up for yet. maybe when it's really hot outside. we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-3822436193115939434?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/3822436193115939434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=3822436193115939434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/3822436193115939434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/3822436193115939434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/03/addendum.html' title='addendum'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-1170533804765217742</id><published>2007-03-12T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T13:47:11.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is a really good day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It is freaking beautiful outside. I love the sunshine and 70 degree weather...ahh. You can't beat Colorado in the spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I got to take Jenn's car through the carwash today. I know that it sounds silly, but I love the carwash. Really really really love it. Like so much that I was giggling with glee and it made my entire day. I think it's something about the feeling of being enclosed and getting to watch all the interesting patterns on the windows from the soap suds. Really guys, it's the little things that bring me joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am waiting with eager antipication to hear back from Anthropologie. Even though I'm so nervous, I'm really excited too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It is spring. (See #1)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I suppose that's all. I'm just in a good mood.&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/28417554-1170533804765217742?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/1170533804765217742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=1170533804765217742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/1170533804765217742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/1170533804765217742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/03/today-is-really-good-day.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-5207989314631944383</id><published>2007-03-01T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T17:09:38.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stole this from the lovely Kate's blog...I love it...</title><content type='html'>"When Love beckons to you follow him,&lt;br /&gt;Though His ways are hard and steep.&lt;br /&gt;And when his wings enfold you yield to him,&lt;br /&gt;Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.&lt;br /&gt;And when he speaks to you believe in him,&lt;br /&gt;Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.&lt;br /&gt;For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.&lt;br /&gt;Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,&lt;br /&gt;So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.&lt;br /&gt;Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.&lt;br /&gt;He threshes you to make you naked.&lt;br /&gt;He sifts you to free you from your husks.&lt;br /&gt;He grinds you to whiteness.&lt;br /&gt;He kneads you until you are pliant;&lt;br /&gt;And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.&lt;br /&gt;All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.&lt;br /&gt;But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,&lt;br /&gt;Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,&lt;br /&gt;Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.&lt;br /&gt;Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.&lt;br /&gt;Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;&lt;br /&gt;For love is sufficient unto love.&lt;br /&gt;When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God."&lt;br /&gt;And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.&lt;br /&gt;Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.&lt;br /&gt;But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:&lt;br /&gt;To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.&lt;br /&gt;To know the pain of too much tenderness.&lt;br /&gt;To be wounded by your own understanding of love;&lt;br /&gt;And to bleed willingly and joyfully.&lt;br /&gt;To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;&lt;br /&gt;To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;&lt;br /&gt;To return home at eventide with gratitude;&lt;br /&gt;And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips. "&lt;br /&gt;kahlil gabran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like the part about "Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are times when I'm glad that Jesus gives us the abudant life in Him. That we laugh all of our laughter and weep all of our tears. Even when it hurts and even when in the moment you wish that everything in life were different...because there is such beauty in abudance and depth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I've gotten a taste of that lately. Abudance. It's one of those upside down things about living life with Jesus...that you find yourself loving the things that you thought you would hate. And you find life in all sorts of corners that you never knew about if you didn't journey a bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I think God's been speaking to me about my dreams being too small. For some of you who know me that might sound weird...I'm totally a dreamer. But, I think there's even more abudance...more laughter...more tears...than I've even hoped and dreamed for. I'm pretty thankful for that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-5207989314631944383?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/5207989314631944383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=5207989314631944383' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5207989314631944383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5207989314631944383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/03/stole-this-from-lovely-kates-blogi-love.html' title='Stole this from the lovely Kate&apos;s blog...I love it...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-7436998519692083015</id><published>2007-02-17T22:17:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T22:23:41.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've been up to...a visual representation.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfvzxo8eWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_PGuhgoBdzA/s1600-h/m_fb7b1ff4ab7a8edff1ee27caed15233e.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfvzxo8eWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_PGuhgoBdzA/s320/m_fb7b1ff4ab7a8edff1ee27caed15233e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032754781387258210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to England. (Wrote a bunch about this in the last post, so I won't go too into detail). Suffice it to say, I'd like to still be in that week right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Bo8eXI/AAAAAAAAAAU/TCB8ca5WOU4/s1600-h/IMG_0087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Bo8eXI/AAAAAAAAAAU/TCB8ca5WOU4/s320/IMG_0087.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032754785682225522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Josh, Carrie, Nathan and I in England. Part of our team of wildness and fun. It was obvious whenever the American's entered the room...or the Tube...or the train. Americans are rowdy and we are no exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Bo8eYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/OwRz86qMxWU/s1600-h/IMG_0144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Bo8eYI/AAAAAAAAAAc/OwRz86qMxWU/s320/IMG_0144.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032754785682225538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to see my dear dear Marcus. Found out that I think we are stealing him again for the summer. I'm not sure that there is much more in the world that can make me happier. I am counting down the days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Ro8eZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/llQBXI39WmA/s1600-h/IMG_0199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Ro8eZI/AAAAAAAAAAk/llQBXI39WmA/s320/IMG_0199.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032754789977192850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Skyler's cabin this week with a little crew.  The ride up there was life threatening....once we finally got to Red Feather, Tim's car got stuck in a huge snow bank and we had to walk a really sad walk with all our crap into the cabin. For some reason it reminded me of the movie Babel...walking walking walking. Falling. Of course, we all know I have a flair for the dramatic at times. Anyway, these are our "happy" faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Ro8eaI/AAAAAAAAAAs/pftWD2QrTss/s1600-h/IMG_0201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfv0Ro8eaI/AAAAAAAAAAs/pftWD2QrTss/s320/IMG_0201.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032754789977192866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, we really did have a great time. Nothing like a group of wonderful friends in a snow covered cabin to bring a little much needed joy to a gal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-7436998519692083015?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7436998519692083015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7436998519692083015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7436998519692083015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7436998519692083015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/02/what-ive-been-up-toa-visual.html' title='What I&apos;ve been up to...a visual representation.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_krePHcM0fms/Rdfvzxo8eWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_PGuhgoBdzA/s72-c/m_fb7b1ff4ab7a8edff1ee27caed15233e.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28417554.post-8383269269864726947</id><published>2007-02-09T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T22:48:44.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jet laaagggggggg......</title><content type='html'>It's probably not the safest time to write. As I experienced several times on this trip, being really really tired causes you to not have a great sense of boundaries of what you should and shouldn't say :). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick update, since I have become one of those terribly boring bloggers that never actually blogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Went to the UK for two weeks. It was great. Did all of the fun touristy things like going to my first ever real show --The Lion King, riding the London Eye, going to the Tate Modern, walking a million miles a day, and constantly grimacing as I spent over twice as much for every meal compared to what I would in America. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Also went to a few conferences while I was there -- needless to say, they rocked my socks off (now there is a phrase that would only come out in this amount of sleepyness). I can give you more details about those in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have realized through this trip a few things that I love about the States -- the fact that my shower is as large as many of the cars in England, that I have easy access to basic things like flat sheets for bed and heat all hours of the day, the streets in my neighborhood that are twice as wide as any street in England....my crew at the church. There really is no one like them in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. There are also a few things that I would like to bring back from England -- cheap and tasty Indian food, Chinatown (that's right, the whole thing), fat British babies with rosie cheeks, small children that are just learning to talk but repeat "Hello love!" over and over again. Ellie and Marcus Mumford....a good use of vocabularly in everyday conversation. The phrase: "Get in!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Jet lag causes really weird dreams. Just an hour ago I was dreaming that I could talk to a cat named Sophie who was evil and trying to get my very expensive fish. I also was trying to call Nottingham from London but couldn't find my cell phone (this is an obvious connection to most of my thoughts right now -- I have yet AGAIN lost my cell phone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am tired and can't write any more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-8383269269864726947?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/8383269269864726947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=8383269269864726947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8383269269864726947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8383269269864726947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/02/jet-laaagggggggg.html' title='Jet laaagggggggg......'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-4182277494285532458</id><published>2007-01-26T22:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T22:48:44.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Less posts = more life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a good thing these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving for England in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-4182277494285532458?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/4182277494285532458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=4182277494285532458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4182277494285532458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/4182277494285532458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2007/01/less-posts-more-life.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-7785152599807606128</id><published>2006-12-24T22:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T22:53:27.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve Airport Realizations.</title><content type='html'>I was stuck in the Denver Airport for many hours today as I waited while my flight was delayed again and again and again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to write down some of my observations, and I'd thought I'd share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Men wearing Ugg boots is difficult to pull off -- though I think it's just ugly enough that if it were pulled off right, it would be brillant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I love Asian style. Layers. Odd combinations of patterns. Breaks the Western 'rules'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. There is a fantastic comradere here today. It's us against them -- travelers against post-blizzard madness... long lines... airport personnel with a Grinch spirit. People celebrate together at the little victories - seat assignments...making it through lines...shorter security waiting times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Overall, being at the Denver airport today really brings out the HEIGHT of Denver fashion - I've seen more clogs, mountain man shoes and half an inch too short jeans than one girl can stomach. (I realize the following two things - #4 is missing -- A girl must keep some secrets. And 3 of my 5 realizations so far were fashion related. I'm sorry. It's just how I am.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I think I just saw Napelon Dynamite's twin ... green pastel 80's shirt, tight stonewashed jeans... carrying a box with a 9 ft. inflatable snowman for the front yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. It's pretty interesting to see couples that are drastically different and wonder if they were always that different or if their slight differences took over through time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. There is a woman a few rows over with crazy hair -- like a swimming cap covered with rabbit fur - or maybe it's just her natural hair. I can't tell. I think this is a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I like the idea of leg warmers over pants in some situations (note - Asian girl walking by tried this and it worked well. See #2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Musically, in just a few hours, I've craved Three Six Mafia, Sufjan Stevens, Van Morrison, RJD2 and Ray LaMantange -- I like this about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-7785152599807606128?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7785152599807606128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7785152599807606128' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7785152599807606128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7785152599807606128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-eve-airport-realizations.html' title='Christmas Eve Airport Realizations.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-7859774239714503852</id><published>2006-12-14T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T00:10:41.789-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working on liking poetry...this one hits me....</title><content type='html'>She who reconciles the ill-matched threads&lt;br /&gt;of her life, and weaves them gracefully&lt;br /&gt;into a single cloth –&lt;br /&gt;it’s she who drives the loudmouths from the hall&lt;br /&gt;and clears it for a different celebration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where the one guest is you.&lt;br /&gt;In the softness of evening&lt;br /&gt;it’s you she receives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the partner of her loneliness,&lt;br /&gt;the unspeaking center of her monologues.&lt;br /&gt;With each disclosure you encompass more &lt;br /&gt;and she stretches beyond what limits her,&lt;br /&gt;to hold you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rainer Maria Rilke&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-7859774239714503852?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/7859774239714503852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=7859774239714503852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7859774239714503852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/7859774239714503852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/12/she-who-reconciles-ill-matched-threads.html' title='Working on liking poetry...this one hits me....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-8620228079258280400</id><published>2006-12-06T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T15:19:51.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Reason for the Season.</title><content type='html'>That phrase has always really bugged me. It seems like people are throwing in your face, like if you enjoy Christmas trees, presents or egg nog that there is something wrong with your soul. So I've never been one to put much stock in repeating it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, Christmas was never a huge deal in my house. Sure, we had our presents and time with family... but I was an only child, only grandchild on my dad's side for awhile, and way younger than all my cousin's on my mom's side. So I've never got super crazed about Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much changed as an adult. Maybe the problem is that I feel like Christmas somewhat exploits the things that I already love. Like, giving presents. I LOVE to give presents, and assure people that I think about them when they aren't around...that I know what they might like...tha I love them. Then there is this holiday where everyone is forced to do it for everyone. It loses a good chunk of the meaning for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or songs about Jesus. I like my fair share of songs about Him. But, there is something odd to me that for a month or so, it's everywhere -- a whole radio station changes to just be Christmas music...it's in every department store....all the sudden I'm hearing theology in the form of a song while I'm picking out my toothpaste. And I don't mind that for ME...but something in me gets sad that it's just a familiar tune that can be blocked out for the most of society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, before you decide that I'm a total bah-hum-bug -er, I need to mention that this year, I officially got in the Christmas spirit last night. Something about Frank Sinatra's Christmas tunes turned something over in my soul. And I'm really really really excited about the idea of Christmas this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's something of childlike anticipation that I want to recover. Little kids can't wait to open up their carefully wrapped packages...they stay up all night, just imagining what will happen when the sun rises. And as cheesy as it sounds, I think that it falls in line with "The Reason For the Season" junk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I want to know what it was like to anticipate Jesus and have him show up on the scene all the sudden. I want Him to show up like that every day in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe that's what I'm so excited about this Christmas. Anticipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this will be a pretty great Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-8620228079258280400?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/8620228079258280400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=8620228079258280400' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8620228079258280400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/8620228079258280400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/12/reason-for-season.html' title='The Reason for the Season.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-5522031457495913280</id><published>2006-12-04T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-04T23:50:53.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I feel like I'm dying and becoming more alive at an equal pace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-5522031457495913280?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/5522031457495913280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=5522031457495913280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5522031457495913280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/5522031457495913280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/12/sometimes-i-feel-like-im-dying-and.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-116435359092521986</id><published>2006-11-23T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T23:33:11.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am thankful for a few things.</title><content type='html'>Including, but not limited to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;big meals with friends that are more like family :: family that feels at least a little closer with a phone call :: a free ticket to see that family in exactly a month :: liz and james getting married on new years eve :: skye and tim on the 5th :: chau and danny on the 26th :: a trip to europe with a whole bunch of people that i can't wait to be on the other side of the pond with :: "job(s)" that allow me to travel like that :: a schedule that never really asks me to be anywhere before ten, but a body that wakes me up at 7 :: new roomates - murielle, sarah, ally and renee :: seth, skye, chau, nathan, natalie, ini :: closed doors :: my dad's one year anniversary from cancer this week :: jay and danielle :: god tearing me apart and slowly building me back up :: apple crisp that is in my tummy :: vli (a blessing in disguise) :: learning to say no :: the ability to take pictures -- not for money, but just to capture a moment :: that somehow I can pay my bills and have random days mid week where I get chinese food and walk around cherry creek with friends :: that i've been crying and laughing in equal measures and with equal intensity :: vintage pictures at the antique mall :: the way that those pictures let me escape and dream :: the few people who know me and who's character has been proven over time -- I'm lucky to have them so near :: knowing that they won't all be around forever, but being able to savor the moment :: imagining where all those people will be in ten years and what god has planned :: dreaming about where i will be in ten years :: dreaming at all :: sabrina ward harrison :: bobby and missi :: pete, amy, elliot and kai :: brad and kate :: the way all those people show a great picture of reality and marriage :: my parents (more than I ever have been thankful for them before :: that god doesn't seem to answer all my prayers :: the prayers that he does chose to answer :: unresolved storylines :: resolved storylines :: hope ::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-116435359092521986?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/116435359092521986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=116435359092521986' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116435359092521986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116435359092521986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-am-thankful-for-few-things.html' title='I am thankful for a few things.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-116382902470853220</id><published>2006-11-17T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T21:50:24.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Those freaking jury duty people have my number.</title><content type='html'>This is absolutely crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I lived off Cook St. in Denver. I got called into jury duty but by the time I was supposed to serve I lived with Brad and Kate in Jefferson County. So I got out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they summoned me in Jefferson County. Oddly enough, a week before I was supposed to serve I moved in with my new roomates. In Denver County. So I got out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I got home...and sure enough was ANOTHER jury summons. For Denver county.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm stuck this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-116382902470853220?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/116382902470853220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=116382902470853220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116382902470853220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116382902470853220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/11/those-freaking-jury-duty-people-have.html' title='Those freaking jury duty people have my number.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-116374258532553251</id><published>2006-11-16T21:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T21:49:45.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A few things that brought me joy today.</title><content type='html'>I'm going to jump on the thanksgiving bandwagon a week early. These things made me thankful today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sleeping in. True that only meant 9 am. Still. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. After teaching my little class having two of my kids chase me down as I ran out the door to give me a hug and say goodbye. This wouldn't mean so much except that they are two of the biggest punks in my class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Closed doors and the assurance that I never have to return to them if God doesn't change something drastically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. That my day started at midnight with a dear friend coming over upset. It sounds weird, but I love my life still leaves the option for things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The twenty minute dance party that just happened in my kitchen with my roomates. We all broke a sweat. Enough said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The fact that those lovely roomies are still downstairs laughing hysterically and singing Veggie Tales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. The thought that the wisest man in history, other than Jesus, still found that wisdom wasn't enough and our only hope in the world in depedance on God. That gives me hope and fear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Feeling alive. The chapped face because you've been crying and running and falling face forward in the cold wind. Literally and figuratively. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Feeling like God loves you enough to test you and discipline you. And knowing it won't last forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. And lastly...an email from Marcus. That was great.&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/28417554-116374258532553251?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/116374258532553251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=116374258532553251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116374258532553251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116374258532553251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/11/few-things-that-brought-me-joy-today.html' title='A few things that brought me joy today.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-116068288724955019</id><published>2006-10-12T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-12T12:54:47.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wet Cement</title><content type='html'>The past couple of days, I feel like my heart has this little mini cement truck next to it. Somehow it pierced through the somewhat unpenetratable exterior and now there is a steady stream of cement being poured in. Too frequently this week I have been hearing these heartbreaking stories of things going on in people's lives....some just too sad and personal to recount. And each time a little more wet cement is poured in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, all it's doing is weighing my heart down...I just worry about it drying and hardening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did Jesus handle the pain that was around Him? The times that it wasn't even directly a part of day to day life for Him, but for a brief (or sometimes more extended) moment His life intersected with someone who was in a point of crisis...How did He do it and not explode? How did He remain compassionate and not just hardened to the pain of the world? How are we supposed to do it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm trying to figure out the balance in having a heart that readily fills with compassion. Or if there is even supposed to be balance in that at all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;any thoughts crew?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-116068288724955019?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/116068288724955019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=116068288724955019' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116068288724955019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/116068288724955019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/10/wet-cement.html' title='Wet Cement'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115929434353416173</id><published>2006-09-26T11:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T11:12:23.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth off the pages of my journal this morning....</title><content type='html'>...it's like I was put inside a tornado and spun around a few gazillion times only to be set on "solid ground". As my head was still reeling, and I was disoriented, it suddendly became apparent that I was actually moving forward some sort of a conveyer belt...destination unknown...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is where I am. And for some reason, it feels a little more like abudant life -- a little more like a little kid on laughing hard as they get off a spinny ride at the amusement park or being picked up by their father to spin in the air -- than it does pain, confusion, or like you want to throw up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what a little perspective does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115929434353416173?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115929434353416173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115929434353416173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115929434353416173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115929434353416173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/09/truth-off-pages-of-my-jour_115929434353416173.html' title='Truth off the pages of my journal this morning....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115817465284177170</id><published>2006-09-13T12:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T12:10:52.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sitting in my last college class ever....</title><content type='html'>It's true. And really exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean true, I still have a bunch of things that I need to do before graduation next Friday, but I'm getting freaking close. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I spent 3 hours at Kinko's to print off three transparencies. I really hate  Kinko's. For some reason, things always take about three times as long as they are supposed to. I have to be honest though, the night was made a little more halrious, rather than just frustrating when the Kinko's guy sweetly admitted that he was purposefully screwing up my order so that he could talk to me more. The entire story is much too long and funny to even recount here, but suffice it to say, it's worth being retold, so you can ask me about it. Somehow, in the midst of it, I convinced him to come to Alpha next week. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yes, here I am in my Digital Prepress class while Jon, possibly the dryest of any instructor I've had in college, (except maybe the Russian Advanced Calculus prof at Ohio State), goes on and on about Preflight in InDesign, and I'm just thrilled that I'm  never going to have to do an assignment again...well, that is, until VLI starts next week :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for putting up with me the past few weeks, not to mention the past few years as I've pushed through college.... 5 1/2 years later, I'm a couple of hours from it being over. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115817465284177170?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115817465284177170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115817465284177170' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115817465284177170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115817465284177170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/09/im-sitting-in-my-last-college-class.html' title='I&apos;m sitting in my last college class ever....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115785975803700640</id><published>2006-09-09T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T20:42:38.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Who has not sat before his own heart's curtain? It lifts: and the scenery is falling apart." - Rainer Marie Rilke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nights in are good for the soul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115785975803700640?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115785975803700640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115785975803700640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115785975803700640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115785975803700640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/09/who-has-not-sat-before-his-own-hearts.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115778172452360214</id><published>2006-09-08T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T23:02:04.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminiscent...</title><content type='html'>Tonight as I was driving home from Gabe and Gretchen's rehershal, the air was crisp and fresh...if we wern't in the desert I might even say there was a slight fog. It reminded me of cold, lovely nights in England two years ago and all the joy and nearness of God that that time was for me. Sometimes you need those moments when He feels far away and you feel like it's your own selfishness that's created that distance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it good to relive to remember that things are always changing. And that's what you love about life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115778172452360214?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115778172452360214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115778172452360214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115778172452360214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115778172452360214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/09/reminiscent.html' title='Reminiscent...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115760800174491254</id><published>2006-09-06T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T22:46:41.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Success.</title><content type='html'>Deep belly laughter - check.&lt;br /&gt;Childlikeness - check.&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping in - goodness I hope so. We'll see if I can sleep past 6:43 am tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea for Gretchen getting married. Our little girls night out shindig really hit the spot tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention...Allison had one of the best quotes ever - "Yea, I bet Jesus would be a frat boy...always travelling around with those tweleve other guys..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115760800174491254?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115760800174491254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115760800174491254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115760800174491254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115760800174491254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/09/success.html' title='Success.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115751899213799704</id><published>2006-09-05T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T22:03:12.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for my website to upload...</title><content type='html'>...gives me a moment to write a quick lil blog-eroo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm exactly 17 days away from graduating...and exactly 10.5 hours away from my portfolio and website being due...so of course, I am at my coffee shop (I just wrote about is as MY coffee shop..haha.)...trying to get all the work done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm realizing more and more that I need to schedule in some times for fun these days. I'm in deep need of belly laughter, being childlike and sleeping in....for people that know how to tease me and people that know my stories before I tell them ... again... for the 13,000th time. There's something sick about the way that I've spent more time with my computer these days than any person. Oh I can't wait for the day when I'm not in school anymore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my thoughts are pretty jumbled tonight. I think I'm just trying to waste some time...but I bet you are too. That's why you're catching up on your blog reading, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115751899213799704?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115751899213799704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115751899213799704' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115751899213799704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115751899213799704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/09/waiting-for-my-website-to-upload.html' title='Waiting for my website to upload...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115682609641095513</id><published>2006-08-28T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T21:34:56.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Death.</title><content type='html'>Today, my cell phone died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not like in the sense that my battery wore down for the final time or something like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather, I left it on top of my car and drove off and about 10 minutes later Nathan discovered it on the side of 17th Street in a million pieces. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, if you're reading this, you should send me an email with your phone number on it. I don't have it anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115682609641095513?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115682609641095513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115682609641095513' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115682609641095513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115682609641095513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/08/death.html' title='Death.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115568202935203703</id><published>2006-08-15T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T15:47:09.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An oldie, but a goodie.</title><content type='html'>So, I was reading an old journal last night, and I came across this quote...it was really thought provoking at that time, and I think it kind of encapsulated how I felt in that exact moment of time. What's really great is seeing what you wanted to be at one point in your life, and realizing that somehow, you've taken some good steps in that direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check this out, from my "dear friend" (and as some love to remind me, it could've been oh so much more more)...Donald Miller:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My life testifies that the first thing that I believe is that I am the most important person in the world. My life testifies to this because I care more about my food and shelter and my happiness than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am learning to believe better things. I am learning to believe that other people exist, that fashion is not truth; rather, JESUS is the most important figure in history and the Gospel is the most powerful force in the universe. I am learning not to be passionate about empty things, but cultivate passion for justice, grace and truth, and communciate the idea that Jesus likes people, and even loves them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a reason I thought I could fall for that man. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry for the lack of posts, and abudance of quotes these days. If you saw my dayplanner, you'd understand, and probably even question where I fit in a minute to do this -- FIVE WEEKS UNTIL I GRADUATE!!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115568202935203703?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115568202935203703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115568202935203703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115568202935203703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115568202935203703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/08/oldie-but-goodie.html' title='An oldie, but a goodie.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115524023803383340</id><published>2006-08-10T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T13:03:58.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made a believer out of him.</title><content type='html'>Something wonderful happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of you, my dear readers, know...I nanny two little boys...Jefferson and Jackson. Now, I've been their nanny for about three and a half years, and consdering they are only 4 and 6...they don't really remember life without Nicole around. I've had the chance to influence them in all kinds of ways -- slang usage, appropriate musical selections, art...you know, they way that I've influenced all of you. :).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we went to the library to pick out some new books about their latest obsession - Asian Animals. Needing to kill some more time, I decided that I would expand their horizions yet again and take them to my favoriote place in the world (or at least this part of Denver)...St. Marks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We picked out some "special drinks" (in this case, Italian Sodas and Egg Cremes), and sat down with our new Asian Animals books to learn all about the creatures. Jefferson, the six year old, is generally quite thoughtful and incredibly intelligent (I'm sure it is at least in part due to his wonderful nanny)...all of the sudden he looked at me and said, "Nicole, we've never done this before, but you come here alot, huh?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I said "Yup, Jefferson, that's true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took a long look around at the decor and the people and said to me, "You know what? I think I like it here alot. It's better than Starbucks. I think I'll come here from now on."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A smile crossed my face as I realized I had made an indepedant coffee shop lover out of a six year old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can count today as a success. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115524023803383340?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115524023803383340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115524023803383340' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115524023803383340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115524023803383340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-made-believer-out-of-him.html' title='I made a believer out of him.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115490073359231169</id><published>2006-08-06T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T14:45:33.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the Story."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Homer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115490073359231169?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115490073359231169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115490073359231169' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115490073359231169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115490073359231169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/08/sing-in-me-muse-and-through-me-tell.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115464127578259805</id><published>2006-08-03T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T14:41:15.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminds me of Ohio.</title><content type='html'>It is raining outside. Not like a few dribbles...full on Ohio rain...where the cloud is completely gray with no hope of return and then rain in coming down steady and hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually kind of miss the gloomy state. Maybe the fact that I'm starting to love the rain means I'm actually a Colorado-ian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, because I'm in Colorado and not Ohio, the rain has already stopped before I finished my post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How funny. What a great place this is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115464127578259805?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115464127578259805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115464127578259805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115464127578259805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115464127578259805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/08/reminds-me-of-ohio.html' title='Reminds me of Ohio.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115419929142307499</id><published>2006-07-29T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T11:54:51.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>At dinner with my friend Gretchen last night we were talking about choices...making choices to stick with things when it's hard because it's honoring to the Lord...choosing to love someone...choosing to stop loving someone when it's unhealthy...choosing where we want to go in life and choosing to step into the fullness of what God has for us...and I really think that the brokered power that God has given us to make decisions is incredible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's such incredible wisdom in reconginzing though that we are still responsible for our decisions. Stick with me here...I think too often when we are in a rough time we look at our life and think, 'Why did Jesus do this to me?...Why is He making me feel this way about this person? ...Why won't He take away this desire ... this circumstance...this ________' (fill in the blank. We all love to blame Him for things that aren't His to be blamed for....). And I think that too often we don't pay attention to the fact that we've been very active in our own lives. We don't live these passive, victimized lives at the hand of a God who only slightly cares about our interests. As we follow Jesus, we are given millions of decisions. I can't begin to understand how the tension of our choices and God's will fit together. There are alot of people alot smarter than me that have come to very contradictory conclusions on such matters. But I do know that it seems that God is in complete control and yet He's given alot of power to us partcipate in our own lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only imagine how it grieves the heart of God when we shake our fists at Him...a swirling mix of adult anger and childlike confusion...all for things that we are actually responsible for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more eloquent thoughts on this...and a very funny story...check out Seth's blog from a few months ago...about the kids that I nanny for. Amazing. I should find that link. That would be helpful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115419929142307499?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115419929142307499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115419929142307499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115419929142307499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115419929142307499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/07/at-dinner-with-my-friend-gretchen-last.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115363955822210831</id><published>2006-07-23T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T00:25:58.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight's the last night....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/1600/Dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/320/Dancing.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/1600/roomates2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/320/roomates2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/1600/the%20fort%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/320/the%20fort%202.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/1600/cookst.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/320/cookst.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little smattering of photos from the past two years at Cook St. South. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is my last night in the house...it's hard to imagine all of the insanity that has happened within these walls in the past two years -- from forts to robbers...deep belly laughter, arguments and many many tears...two of the most incredible friends that a girl could ask for...who have helped me through some incredibly difficult times that were thrown my way during this time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I suppose, even if I weren't an overly reflective person, that it's impossible to not have times like this as a marker and definite end to a season...I'd even say an era. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it ever possible to enter into new things without an underlying sense of fear? That sense of just not knowing what's next and not being sure if you want it...I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late. Maybe I should get some sleep. For the last time in the hosue that represents an incredibly amazing, challenging, and forming time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115363955822210831?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115363955822210831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115363955822210831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115363955822210831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115363955822210831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/07/tonights-last-night.html' title='Tonight&apos;s the last night....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115274543303896121</id><published>2006-07-12T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T16:03:53.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steve OR Steven Read</title><content type='html'>So last night I went to this thing called Self-Made at Double Daughter's. It's a creative forum of sorts that has different guest speakers every week who discuss their creative business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I went and had the chance to hear from a local artist named Steve Read. Now, although at first, I'll admit I had a hard time getting into it (there is something about artists that we just aren't very good at discussing our work in any understandable fashion). But eventually I found his ideas really sparking some ideas within me...questions that someday I look forward to answering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out this project of his...basically, he created a program that collects and displays random photos from the internet. As a photographer, it is interesting to look and see how amateurs compose images and wonder what that says about innate understanding of composition or lack thereof. How much has my training made a difference and how much is just within us as people....even those that don't consider themselves artists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.stevenread.com/art/photonoise/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115274543303896121?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115274543303896121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115274543303896121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115274543303896121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115274543303896121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/07/steve-or-steven-read.html' title='Steve OR Steven Read'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115268800690089321</id><published>2006-07-11T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T00:06:46.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's true...I'm an eavesdropper.</title><content type='html'>And even if you deny it, I bet that you are too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that if people are at coffee shops, describing their life in excruating detail, particularily if it's loudly, they can't be upset that every once in awhile I'm ignoring my book, and being a bit voyeuristic. I mean, if it's really that personal, shouldn't they be talking in a more private enviornment? Granted, I've had a fair share of deep conversations at coffee shops too....but I have a blog! If I was so worried about privacy, I wouldn't allow my life to be such an open book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, in the hour or two that I was at St. Mark's tonight, I had an opportunity to listen in on a few, very loud conversations. What amazed me, is that in almost every one, people were trying to work through some sort of grey area in a relationship - friendship...sort of boyfriend...girlfriend...family...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consistently, they were concerned with what was fair and what they could do....how things can be defined, and essentially how to navigate the very difficult arena of dealing with other people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coincidentally, I was reading a bit through 1 Corinthians, and made it to the part that it talks about love. Since I've found myself smack dab in the middle of a marathon of weddings in the past few years, it's been a passage that I've thought through, and heard alot of mini-sermons on. What was striking to me in through the combination of reading the Bible and listening to the expirences of the loud talkers at the coffee shop, was how much time people spend trying to fit the grey into black or white, and yet the depth of time that we could spend just focusing in on the actual black and white that the Bible lays out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know for myself, there are always complications in relationships...any realtionship with depth will run into that. And as I navigate my friendships, I want to stop trying to work out exactly what to do with grey, and work really hard on doing what Jesus thinks is black and white...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That means being patient and kind to those that I love. It means fleeing from things like envy, boasting, and pride. Not being rude, self-seeking, easily angered or keeping records of wrongs. Looking at my relationships and delighting in truth rather than evil. It absoultely means protecting, trusting, hoping and perservering in relationships with those that I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me...there is a ton of energy, time, and effort that I could put into just focusing in on those things...not worrying about how the grey areas work out, but putting everything into doing those things well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I'll learn to love those around me a little more too. They really deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115268800690089321?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115268800690089321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115268800690089321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115268800690089321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115268800690089321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/07/its-trueim-eavesdropper.html' title='It&apos;s true...I&apos;m an eavesdropper.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115198930760552841</id><published>2006-07-03T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T22:01:47.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Josh's Documentary</title><content type='html'>I just found out that the documentary Josh Wilson did is available online...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch and learn all about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not really. But he did a really good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's sweet tunes from Meese and Josh Holloran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.joshwilson.org/media/index.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115198930760552841?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115198930760552841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115198930760552841' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115198930760552841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115198930760552841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/07/joshs-documentary.html' title='Josh&apos;s Documentary'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115190868726386134</id><published>2006-07-02T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-02T23:38:07.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts of the Day</title><content type='html'>Just a few things running through my head as I go to bed: (warning, some serious, some silly. Be prepared for anything.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The Devil Wears Prada was a surprisingly great movie. It had some interesting critiques (though nothing revolutionary) about the fashion industry and was very entertaining. It was a little depressing to see alot of my own tendencies in the Andie character....it's a good thing I have friends to pull me out of my insane love of all things related to fashion, success, people pleasing, and the ways that all those things have the ability to interact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I love girls nights out. Nothing better than the Rio with my ladies Friday, some quality girl shopping time for the botique with Sarah on Saturday, and the Devil Wears Prada and drinks on Sunday. Girls are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'm not ready for my dear British brother Marcus to leave. I had to hold back tears when Jay mentioned it at church this evening. I realized that I've always been the one leaving, and never really had to deal with having someone I love so much leave first. Apparently, I'm not too good at being on this end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I want to have a party where people make mix CD's of their favoriote songs...or at least the best dang mix they can muster up...then we can do some kind of sweet game like a White Elephant Exchange and all end up knowing about some new music and having a great time listening to tunes in our car. I think the fact that I think about things like this makes me a music snob, but I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Today was my first day OFF...totally off... in about 2 weeks. Before that I had almost 3 weeks straight of guests, so today was the first day where no one needed me. It was incredible. I didn't get out of bed until 12, sat on the couch reading until 2 and then went to St. Marks. You can't beat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I've been thinking about duty and love. Is it ever okay for love to become a habit or get a sense of perserverance to it? Specficially, is it always necessary to know that you're doing things for God out of a sense of love for Jesus? Or can we ever do it out of duty? Is that still love? How does this play into our relationships now? When I'm doing things out of duty, is that something that I should be repenting of? How can one even trust their heart? I think there is alot more to think through on this one. It probably deserves an entire post of it's own, and someday maybe I will indulge in such an adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I need to figure out this South Africa stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I had mean thoughts about my landlord all day today. We'll just consider this a confession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel better now that that's all out. I suppose I can go to bed now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115190868726386134?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115190868726386134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115190868726386134' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115190868726386134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115190868726386134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/07/random-thoughts-of-day.html' title='Random Thoughts of the Day'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115141853129676295</id><published>2006-06-27T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T07:28:51.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inadequate Words.</title><content type='html'>Last night I went to the funeral of the woman, Colleen Caudill, that I asked you to pray for a few posts back. The truth is, that I barely knew Colleen and I don't really know her husband that well either...sure, we've exchanged warm smiles, and hugs at church, but I couldn't tell you much about them or their lives. Sitting in her funeral though last night actually made me pretty sad that I hadn't had the opportunity to share more of life with Colleen...the things that her family and friends recounted about her -- the literally HUNDREDS of people that filled Faith Bible Chapel to celebrate her life -- the way her husband spoke without a bit of hesitation in his voice about the amazing woman that was his wife....they all made me realize this was a woman I could've really learned from. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somehow there were lessons that I learned from her even at her funeral -- when her kids got in an argument she would make them touch noses until they started laughing (I think this is a brillant method! Store that one away...)...she spoke boldly and in confidence to her friends and family about God's goodness and plan for them even while she was sick in the hospital...she was full of love for her six children, serving them and giving her life for them....she had a room full of hundreds of people that she had touched and blessed with her life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And goodness, did she marry a good man! You know, I try my best during worship at our church to actually interact with God. But have you ever been in one of those moments where out of the corner of your eye you see someone else worshipping? There were a couple of times where that's happened with Patrick, and I'll look over and I'm overwhelmed with how much he loves and knows our God. It's just evident watching him. And there's something about watching older men worship that drives me to tears every time....knowing that they have a rich history with the Lord and still after all these years are filled with passion for Him. Then, watching him speak about Colleen last night - hearing the love in his voice - in  way that is too deep to talk through on this blog, made me understand more the love of God...and beyond that gave me renewed excitement to someday have a husband like that. I wouldn't want anything less than a guy who is going to serve Jesus passionately all his days, and love me not just faithfully, but with all he's got. I think that's what Patrick was to Colleen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think alot more of why it all hit me was the deep thankfulness that my dad is still alive. We've gotten so close over the past few years and even closer since he's been diagnosed with cancer. And honestly, when father's day rolled around this year, it was hard for me to even call him because I was afraid that he would answer the phone and I would just start crying because I loved him much and I am so grateful that he's still alive. And as I sat there in Colleen's funeral I realized that this could've been our family so easily...life really is so fleeting...and that for some reason, so far, God in His grace has chosen to spare us from that temporarily...but not forever. I want to love my parents with all I've got, for as long as I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want to think through what I want to be remembered for. I remember in high school youth group, they made us write out our eulogy at one point. I thought it was a dumb and morbid exercise as a fifteen year old...but there is something to that. What legacy will I leave behind? Who will be at my funeral as a testimony to my life and love for those around me? Am I loving people...and giving my life for them now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to be honest, these words don't do any of it justice...it's so hard to wrap up in a nutshell and explain why I was crying through the entirety of a funeral of a woman I barely knew...(other than that brief stint in which Seth and I both thought the pastor said something that he didn't (twice), and I was laughing, but pretending I was crying...you know, if you're going to be a speaker, you must learn to ennuciate...and I must learn to stop laughing at inappropriate moments!)...but that's okay, I suppose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115141853129676295?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115141853129676295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115141853129676295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115141853129676295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115141853129676295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/inadequate-words.html' title='Inadequate Words.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115119623082209917</id><published>2006-06-24T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-24T17:43:50.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain rain go away.</title><content type='html'>I am sitting at work 45 minutes after I got off. Why, you may ask?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine a torrential downpour...like of epic proportions. The kind where you can see sheets of rain coming down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now imagine me, on my scooter...with my little bike helmet in some nice gallery clothes. Braving it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hearing about the guy who got struck by lightening on his motorcycle I decided against braving it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess my Saturday night plans will have to wait, haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115119623082209917?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115119623082209917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115119623082209917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115119623082209917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115119623082209917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/rain-rain-go-away.html' title='Rain rain go away.'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115094104711704074</id><published>2006-06-21T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T18:50:47.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I forgot!</title><content type='html'>When I was a kid I had two future career aspirations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was pretty normal - a marine biologist. As I grew older and realized that science wasn't one of my strong suits, that dream quickly died and was replaced by the bigger dream - graphic designer. I would sit for hours in the office of the graphic designer at my dad's company and just watched as she tiresly plugged away at her daily jobs. Anyone who has seen a graphic designer work knows that isn't the most interesting thing to watch, but somehow Carol DelGrosso and her little computer drawing pad were fascinating to me. She totally left an impression on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's funny about the marine biologist dream was that I've never met an actual marine biologist as an adult. Does anyone know one? I'm not sure they actually exist, and if they do, they certainly don't run in the same social circles that I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today though, my dream was reawakened as I took the little boys that I nanny to the Denver Aquarium. It is AMAZING! Maybe it was the free yummy seafood that their parents paid for to satisfy our dinner needs, or maybe it was the incredible fish swimming over our heads....it could've been when we got to pet the sting rays and feed them fish in between our fingers....I KNOW it was the up close look at the sea otters....but I was like a giddy little kid running all over the place checking out different fish and giggling with joy (I've been doing alot of giggling lately, huh?). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I was embarrasing the kids that I nanny for, but that's okay. It's good for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115094104711704074?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115094104711704074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115094104711704074' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115094104711704074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115094104711704074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-forgot.html' title='I forgot!'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115092822988883778</id><published>2006-06-21T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T15:17:18.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Urgent Prayer Request</title><content type='html'>Hey, Everyone,&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I just got a phone call telling me that a lady in our church - Colleen (of Pat and Colleen, sorry I don't know their last names....., they're a middle-aged couple, he's balding I think, they usually sit toward the front in the morning service) is dying suddenly and rapidly. She's not expected to live another 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;To make a long story short, she wasn't feeling well last week and went in for some tests. It looked like nothing. Even this weekend, Pat told Jay that she was going to be fine. Then, Monday, they went in for some more tests, and the doctors found her liver very enlarged and some tumors behind her liver or kidneys.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;She's been unconscious since Monday night and not expected to make it. Apparently she's got some sort of wildly progressing lymphoma. She's put on 50 lbs of fluid in 2 days. Because her liver and kidneys aren't doing well and because whatever's wrong is progressing so quickly, there's little the doctors can do. They are going to try to do a little dialysis but they're not sure it'll work. The doctors are saying she's got maybe 24 hours.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Whether you know this couple or not, please, please, please pray for Colleen, her husband Pat and their children/family. Pray that family will be able to get to see her before (if) she passes away.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'll update you as I get some updates.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Thanks all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115092822988883778?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115092822988883778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115092822988883778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115092822988883778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115092822988883778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/urgent-prayer-request.html' title='Urgent Prayer Request'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115078708278377426</id><published>2006-06-19T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-20T00:04:42.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/1600/nikmur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/320/nikmur.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/1600/nikbike.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1584/3011/320/nikbike.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So every once in awhile I'm overcome with excitement and well....there must be a better word for it...you know..that giddy feeling in your tummy like when you were a kid at the zoo....or when you feel like you might just be falling in love...or when you have your leave your last day of 6th grade for summer and you're sure the entire world is at your fingertips. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, that feeling has been frequenting my tummy lately...from dinner last night....laughing so hard we are nearly crying at a yummy Greek dinner with one of my oldest true friends, and one of my newest...and being overwhelmed at my growing adoration for both of them....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...laughing with glee with my new soon to be roomate, Murielle, as we drove to a fancy dinner in cute dresses on my new scooter....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...getting to pray for a random woman today who sold me my scooter and realizing that living a kingdom filled life is just never boring....nothing is a simple transaction, but it's always an opportunity to interact with the person and what God is doing in their life right now....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sitting on my porch last night, smoking cloves, reading a new novel, listening to my new favoriote band Psapp, under the pink Christmas lights that create such a surreal lighting that you have to remind yourself you aren't dreaming....and staying right there doing that until almost 2 am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just feel so excited and so alive and so thankful. If somehow you would've transported Nicole from five years ago, to this very week, I wouldn't have believed you....that this was really my life...that I would find joy in things I never knew I desired...that Jesus would be so faithful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a couple pictures of things I'm excited about these days....my new scooter and my new soon to be roomie. Good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115078708278377426?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115078708278377426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115078708278377426' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115078708278377426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115078708278377426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/so-every-once-in-awhile-im-overcome.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115050394101169912</id><published>2006-06-16T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T17:25:41.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends who string words together better than me....</title><content type='html'>I like those ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what my dear Atlantaion friend Meghan says....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearts and Heads&lt;br /&gt;Rarely make sense to each other&lt;br /&gt;They sit on opposite sides of the bed&lt;br /&gt;trying to make another &lt;br /&gt;point or a plea&lt;br /&gt;that the other would see&lt;br /&gt;just how important&lt;br /&gt;they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115050394101169912?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115050394101169912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115050394101169912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115050394101169912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115050394101169912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/friends-who-string-words-together.html' title='Friends who string words together better than me....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115039620853916364</id><published>2006-06-15T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T11:30:08.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's about to happen again...</title><content type='html'>I feel an art explosion coming on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm full of ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prepare world. Prepare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It's nice that this coincides with the last class of the quarter tomorrow. And then my last 3 week break ever. Summer time here I come)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115039620853916364?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115039620853916364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115039620853916364' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115039620853916364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115039620853916364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-about-to-happen-again.html' title='It&apos;s about to happen again...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-115030414948573824</id><published>2006-06-14T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T09:58:21.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>Lately, I'm in one of those times where everything sticks. Let me rephrase that - I feel like I'm a sponge and I'm soaking everything in all the time...The sounds of bike tires swooshing through puddles, the heat of the sun on my back when I'm at the park, the smells of hookah that mix in my senses with the laughter of dear friends...and the words that people speak...the words of sermons and of the Bible. I'm in one of those places where everything feels applicable and alive all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think thru all the things I've been really starting to let penetrate deeply into the depths of me - or at least the things that I hope will - at the top of the list is an understanding of sacrifice. I feel like the words are floating around me all the time - the letters of love from God placed in the Bible...in stories from friends....in sermons and in the sweet whispers from the Holy Spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The call to continually risk, sacrifice and live beyond myself...for others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Murielle told us about her parents. A couple who chose time and again to take in children that weren't their own - to be foster parents and adopted parents and to love those that Jesus did, when no one else was. They kept a modest home, a church van for a car, and worked their best to provide a better life for the kids, because they knew they were worth it. They said a heartfelt "No thanks" to the things that this world tells us is most important - because they believed God at His word that the Kingdom was the most important thing of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Seth is leaving for the Sudan in 5 or so weeks. He just graduated with an exemplary GPA, from a very competitive university with a promising degree. But rather than follow the status-quo track ... keeping up with the Joneses with the great job that he certainly is qualified for -- he's going to give his life away for the next two months. To serve children and families in a country that the world is passing over. All because he loves Jesus and believes that He means everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these are just two examples -- time and time again I've had incredible opportunities to watch average people do extraordinary things because they think Jesus is worth it. Worth giving up everything they ever thought they wanted so that somehow they might find all the life He has for them. That even though following His is strange at times and is a life filled with tensions and paradoxes - that the paradox of "To find your life, you must lose it" is TRUE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that I will become one of these people. That I will respond in obedience to the things that God is asking me to give up or lay down so that I may have the fullness of what He has for me. That I would learn to follow Him in life of sacrifice and submission and obedience. I can't keep holding up the merits of past sacrifice...He's always asking for more of me and risking and going the next mile. I want to finish well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-115030414948573824?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/115030414948573824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=115030414948573824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115030414948573824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/115030414948573824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/sacrifice.html' title='Sacrifice'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-114991977644715095</id><published>2006-06-09T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T23:09:36.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doesn't fit...</title><content type='html'>Today, I went and checked out my first possibility of place of my own. A cute, studio apartment about 4 blocks away from my favoriote coffee shop in the city...a closet big enough that I could almost fit a twin bed in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then the woman said, 'You have a queen bed? That will pretty much take up this whole room.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I realized....my queen bed won't fit in this little studio. And as dramatic as it may sound, I felt like that was a picture of everything in life right now. My queen bed won't fit in this little studio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing really seems to fit right now. I think I'm actually a little embarrassed that I'm going through the typical "I'm-about-to-graduate-from-college" drama and emotional strain. Combine that with moving out of the wonderful home with the incredible roomates that I've had for the past two years and the other insane amounts of random indecision and up in the air-ness....and I'm a little stressed. My poor friend Billy today had to watch as it all as I sort of disinegrated in the mess. I hope at least some of these questions are answered soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine has a song that her 5 year old son wrote that says something about "I'm beginning to like the sight of closed doors." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I had the eyes of a child these days.&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/28417554-114991977644715095?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114991977644715095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114991977644715095' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114991977644715095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114991977644715095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/doesnt-fit.html' title='Doesn&apos;t fit...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-114956931771445536</id><published>2006-06-05T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T21:49:12.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices</title><content type='html'>This week I had one of those realizations...you know...the ones that kind of hit you upside the head and give you a headache and make you tired for the rest of the week....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You feel so alive because you aren't living under the weight of the lies that you've chosen to believe for so long. You feel actual freedom, and even though it's scary, you feel ALIVE....you feel REAL...you feel like you're actually being more fully yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a long time since I've came to grips with just how broken I am...that I've created so many walls to protect myself...thinking that there are keeping me safe, protecting me from the evil and pain that I've encountered too many times...from the pain I've caused others...from an existence that just doesn't care to serve me...or anyone...and just seems to run by it's own rules that aren't ever "fair". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the sudden, (by the loving, firm words of a friend and the confirmation of God's Spirit), I realized that all that my walls and vows were protecting me from was the fullness of what God has for me. The real freedom that He offers us. The abudant life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes....yes sometimes that means pain, and confusion and trying to figure out the grey areas of life. But once I read that the problem with "protecting" yourself from pain by hardening your heart against it, is that it hardens you from the good, beautiful and wonderful things in life too. You can't choose and be selective to where your heart is hardening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, instead, I'm chosing to believe that what God says about himself in His Word is true. That He really is good. That He really knows me and cares, and has the best in mind for me. That He doesn't want me to be anxious, but encourages me to petition him and pray and ask...and to try to align myself with His will because it really is best. That I really really can trust Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a choice. But it's worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-114956931771445536?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114956931771445536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114956931771445536' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114956931771445536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114956931771445536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/06/choices.html' title='Choices'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-114914385674214759</id><published>2006-05-31T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T12:44:12.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to start?</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty sure that only Colin and Natalie read these, so I think I might start just addressing them as letters to the two of you. If any of the rest of you are out there leaving...make yourself known! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalie and Colin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week is kind of crappy....I mean at best it's confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayer please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a good note, today I bought a motorized toothbrush. I literally screamed outloud in joy when I finished brushing my teeth with it the first time. Is there any reason why everyone doesn't own one of these? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go out. Buy one today. You won't regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a serious note, I've been thinking alot about the verse in Phillipians 4:6-7...."Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests before God. And the God of all compassion will guard your minds and hearts in Christ Jesus." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does that really look like? How does that really play out? If we hold fast to the belief that God is all knowing, wise, and loves us intensely, then why should we bother with petition? Why does He care to hear our requests? Shouldn't we just submit to whatever He thinks is best and just direct our prayers in that way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm realizing more all the time that really living out a life with Jesus...kingdom oriented life...is messy and tension filled and doesn't always make sense. It's filled with thinking through the big theological questions in the most inconvient times and feeling at the end of your rope often. Whoever feeds people the lie that following Jesus is easy shouldn't do that anymore...it's a bunch of rubbish, as my dear Marcus would say. Living life with Jesus is hard, costly, painful and tension filled. But I can relate with the disciples when Jesus asked them if they wanted to leave him too with the crowds...and they said "Where else would we go? You have the words of life." There is nothing more valuable...more worth whatever cost....than following Him whereever that may lead me. Life with Jesus is almost always different than I expected, but it almost always is also better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mabye I'm writing all this today to remind myself. I think I need that reminder today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you two are having a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicole&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-114914385674214759?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114914385674214759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114914385674214759' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114914385674214759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114914385674214759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/05/where-to-start.html' title='Where to start?'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28417554.post-114874101518209395</id><published>2006-05-27T07:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T07:43:35.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOING TO THE CABIN TODAY!!!! YEA YEA YEA YEA YEA!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-114874101518209395?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114874101518209395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114874101518209395' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114874101518209395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114874101518209395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/05/going-to-cabin-today-yea-yea-yea-yea_27.html' title=''/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-114841896626328245</id><published>2006-05-23T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T14:16:49.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs. A (wo)man's best friend...</title><content type='html'>Tue May 23, 8:22 AM ET&lt;br /&gt;PORTLAND, Oregon (Reuters) - An Oregon man has filed a $1.6 million "loss of companionship" claim against a neighbor who ran over his family's 13-year-old dog, Grizz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raymond Weaver ran over the golden retriever and cocker spaniel mix in 2004 with a pick-up truck, forcing the owner, Mark Greenup, to have the animal euthanized, according to a lawsuit by Greenup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greenup, whose claim is usually reserved for the loss of a spouse, says the dog provided each member of his family with solace, affection, friendship, love and protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story will spark some of your memories as you recall my terrible tea-spilled-on-the-computer incident and the man trying to console me with his own personal story of running over a dog that week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously laughed out loud when I read this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it's true - at least I didn't run over someone's dog. The computer only would've cost a couple of thousand dollars. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-114841896626328245?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114841896626328245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114841896626328245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114841896626328245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114841896626328245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/05/dogs-womans-best-friend.html' title='Dogs. A (wo)man&apos;s best friend...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-114827753619478599</id><published>2006-05-21T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T22:58:56.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days like today aren't supposed to happen...</title><content type='html'>I was just composing a blog about what a terrible day it's been today -- not enough sleep (from a lame lame vampire party last night) -- my morning was interrupted by a call from my roomate crying because our landlord is threatening to evict us (she is crazy...she also believes that our lawn is unacceptable and should be fixed in the next week, or we are homeless) -- and the usual Sunday hoopla that is to be expected....when I realized that I'm sick of complaining. There really really is too much to be thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how that unexpected interruption of potential homelessnesss really took over my day. I was engulfed by a funk that could not be shaken...I even tried my usual coping mechanism - unneccesary busyness focused towards menial tasks - and found no resolve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, today I was overcome with emotion from the care and love of my community. Basically, I can't imagine how people live WITHOUT community...people who they can call on a Sunday and ask to help re-manicure a lawn and paint a house a few days later... people who they can call and ask for prayer when life isn't making sense ... people that they can go hang out with when they need time to sort of forget whatever is going on...and the knowledge that this community isn't going anywhere. They will be there in a week, month, and a year when the next random crisis hits. And they will be there for all the moments in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always been interesting to me how movies only show the main points of drama...generally all of the small moments of "boringness of life" are fast forwarded as some nostalgic music is playing. But I think those are the moments when life is lived and important foundations are built. It's those moments in a friendship...in a community...that result in the equity of friendship that is vital when there are necessary withdrawls. I am filled with joy for the life that our community has invested with each other. I don't know where I'd be without it. Life is worth it during the crappy days like today when you know you're not living it alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-114827753619478599?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114827753619478599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114827753619478599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114827753619478599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114827753619478599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/05/days-like-today-arent-supposed-to.html' title='Days like today aren&apos;t supposed to happen...'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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-28417554.post-114809023050700036</id><published>2006-05-19T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T19:33:47.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I've joined the world of blogging....</title><content type='html'>I can't guarentee much on here - frequent posts or extreme wisdom, but I guess that I have officially become one of "those people"...you know, the ones with a MySpace account, Flickr account and now indeed a blog as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened to me!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been spending alot of time alone lately - in coffee shops....in other people's homes as children sleep (as a nanny, not some creepy stalker :) )...at my own home. And somehow I'm starting to cherish it in a way that I never have before. Giving myself time to read - to actually THINK - to pray and to reflect. To be wonderfully selfish.... and realize that I'm not always going to have a job where they pay me to sit in the sun and journal while twins sleep inside the house...and that my time, as busy as it may seem now, will never be so flexible and in some ways self contained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has so many question marks and parathesis these days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been focusing in a bit on what life after September 22nd looks like - that's graduation you know - and I think I'm starting to get a little bit of clarity...or at least  few options. Check out this website... www.acresoflove.org . I might go spend some time in South Africa with this crew working in orphanages and doing photography... I'm sure (well at least I hope) this blog will someday be filled with those adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I end my first blog, I feel a little disappointed. Maybe I had grandiose ideas of beautiful prose rolling off my fingers....depths of insight and wisdom. I guess all you get this time is my jumbled rambling thoughts. Maybe after I get out the backlog of ideas that have collected I'll have some more beauty in what I'm writing. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28417554-114809023050700036?l=twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/feeds/114809023050700036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28417554&amp;postID=114809023050700036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114809023050700036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28417554/posts/default/114809023050700036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentyminutesearlier.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-guess-ive-joined-world-of-blogging.html' title='I guess I&apos;ve joined the world of blogging....'/><author><name>::Nicole::</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17435304960015201102</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></feed>
