<?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-7918762225384357905</id><updated>2011-09-19T07:18:15.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Suddenly Sarah</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>51</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-1972186762859790601</id><published>2009-09-20T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T06:23:19.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night while driving home from a big day I looked back in the car to find you asleep in your car seat.  You looked so precious.  I'm so lucky that you are healthy.  So many times we take that for granted.  So last night I thanked God for giving you to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-1972186762859790601?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/1972186762859790601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=1972186762859790601' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/1972186762859790601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/1972186762859790601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2009/09/paul-last-night-while-driving-home-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-5258572419733588070</id><published>2009-08-23T11:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T11:55:06.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Year</title><content type='html'>Almost a month late posting but here is my 1 year letter to Paul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not believe it has been a year since you entered our life. Before you were born a had a lot of people tell me that you would change my life. I knew you would but I didn't know how much. You have had such an impact on your dad and I. I didn't know such love was possible. One day you'll know how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your first year of life has brought on so many small victories. Sitting up, rolling, crawling, talking, walking. All in which are things a baby does. However, we are so blessed that you are healthy and able to do all of these things with no hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have fit into our life perfectly. And matter of fact have made life more enjoyable. Seeing the world through the eyes of a child again makes even the simplest of things spectacular. Sometimes as an adult you forget to stop and enjoy things (especially God's things) as a spectacular creation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are growing so fast. The other day I put you in your car seat and you threw your pacifier. I handed it back to you and you threw it again. I looked at you with those “mother eyes” (I'm sure when you read this later in life you'll know the ones I'm talking about) and said Paul (with some kind of discernment) and you said No and put the pacifier back in your mouth. At age one you already knew the next word that was going to come out of my mouth and decided it wasn't worth it and stuck the pacifier back in your mouth in mutual agreement. Can't wait for what the next few years may bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQWWlqOlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/N5w6Bme4Q4Y/s1600-h/Paul%27s+BD-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQWWlqOlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/N5w6Bme4Q4Y/s200/Paul%27s+BD-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373234544124770898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQQjGnrrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/EhUxMdQBcfQ/s1600-h/5691_104955091111_508326111_2024176_3626325_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQQjGnrrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/EhUxMdQBcfQ/s200/5691_104955091111_508326111_2024176_3626325_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373234444405026482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQMPEG_dI/AAAAAAAAAEA/gzgL7QTFgxc/s1600-h/Paul+in+swing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQMPEG_dI/AAAAAAAAAEA/gzgL7QTFgxc/s200/Paul+in+swing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373234370306309586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQH0nvNhI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rs1skEsytQc/s1600-h/Paul+a+few+hours+old.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQH0nvNhI/AAAAAAAAAD4/Rs1skEsytQc/s200/Paul+a+few+hours+old.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373234294488512018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-5258572419733588070?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/5258572419733588070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=5258572419733588070' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5258572419733588070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5258572419733588070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-year.html' title='First Year'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SpGQWWlqOlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/N5w6Bme4Q4Y/s72-c/Paul%27s+BD-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-9066083781146779592</id><published>2009-04-05T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T19:06:29.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back on some of these letters I realize they are not well written. However, please remember they are written out of love and someday when you are a pre-teen and you think the whole world is against you (including me) may you read them and realize how loved you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, each day is a new adventure with you. You are growing so fast. Life with you is so much fun. It's exciting to see you discover your world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and you dad are close "buddies." If daddy is holding you I can usually find you relaxing in his arms playing on the computer or lounging around in a chair. However, some of the sweetest moments are when I see you and daddy sleeping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite moments with you are playing on the floor. Playing on the floor leads to new discovery. But, my all time favorite moment is when you fall asleep in my arms. You look so peaceful. It's the time of day where all my stress melts away and I reflect on being your mom and you being my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-9066083781146779592?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/9066083781146779592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=9066083781146779592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/9066083781146779592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/9066083781146779592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2009/04/paul-looking-back-on-some-of-these.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-6919511058929469814</id><published>2009-02-26T03:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T04:03:53.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six months has flown by. It's amazing watching the world unfold before your eyes. You are experiencing and doing so many new things. You roll to get where you need to go, you can pivot on you stomach, sitting in the highchair and eating is no big task now, playing with toys is becoming more fun, and you can really go to town in your bouncy seat. You have been saying words such as mama, lala, uh oh, and on one occasion and one occasion only did you look at your dad, reach out your hand and say "Da". However, because your dad and I were so excited and tried to get you to say again, you simply won't say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prayer life has significantly increased since you have been around. I'm constantly praying for God to keep you safe, to teach me to be a good mother, that you will grow up intelligent, that you will grow up knowing how much your parents love God and therefore may decided to follow him yourself. I love you so very much. I want the best for you. I know that I may not be there to protect you at all times so I ask God to do that for me. I know that sometimes my parenting may fail and I ask God to step in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bond I have with you is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. I hope that will never change. You will always be my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-6919511058929469814?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/6919511058929469814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=6919511058929469814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6919511058929469814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6919511058929469814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2009/02/dear-paul-six-months-has-flown-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-2752512068569122704</id><published>2009-01-23T17:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T17:48:18.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am way behind on my monthly letters to you. I blame the holidays. You are growing faster and faster each day. It does not seem like almost 6 months ago that we were in the hospital with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the last time I wrote to you, you have explored many new things. You tried your first baby food at Thanksgiving. It was sweet potatoes. It seemed to go well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You experienced your first Christmas with my side of the family and daddy's side of the family. You received many toys and lots of fun stuff. It's no secret that people love you and just couldn't wait to spoil you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years came and went. You celebrated New Years Eve by watching Horton Hears a Who. You fell asleep in my arms and your dad and I finished the movie : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little to your knowledge you were a part of history in the making. The first African American officially became the President Elect on January 20, 2009. I wonder if you will later read his inauguration speech in your history books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as development goes you are gradually making progress. You are now rolling from your belly to your back, putting the pacifier in your own mouth, sitting up on your own (for the most part), and trying to become my helper as I feed you baby food. I believe your favorite baby foods so far are pears, oatmeal with apples and bananas, and green beans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your favorite toy right now is probably a horse with a bouncy seat in the middle that Grandma Rittenour bought for you for Christmas and a toy zoo with lights and sounds that daddy and I bought for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to the new adventures that month 6 will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SXpzPJMAEzI/AAAAAAAAACA/oH-xwsVK864/s1600-h/Bathtime1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SXpzPJMAEzI/AAAAAAAAACA/oH-xwsVK864/s200/Bathtime1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294671015928927026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-2752512068569122704?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/2752512068569122704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=2752512068569122704' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/2752512068569122704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/2752512068569122704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2009/01/paul-i-am-way-behind-on-my-monthly.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SXpzPJMAEzI/AAAAAAAAACA/oH-xwsVK864/s72-c/Bathtime1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-4706532888564171879</id><published>2008-11-05T15:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T15:41:26.572-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are now 3 months old and growing like crazy. At your last doctors appointment on October 31, 2008 you weighed in at a whopping 15 pounds and 2 oz. You have learned to hold your head up, blow amazing spit bubbles, giggle, turn your head when you realize your daddy or myself are in the room, hold your own rattle, and you are trying to sit up but you still have support. You are also trying to roll on your side...you are so close you almost have it. I can't wait for that day! Among the many things you are learning and doing you are also starting to cut your first teeth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SRIsQmkpj9I/AAAAAAAAABo/5bL2dicnqO4/s1600-h/s42850ca111220_7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SRIsQmkpj9I/AAAAAAAAABo/5bL2dicnqO4/s200/s42850ca111220_7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265319578093326290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You experienced your first Halloween dressed as a monkey. You looked adorable in your monkey suit. Grandma Kim, Pap, Aunt Lori, Uncle Dave, and Cousin Connor were among your adoring fans that came to see you dressed up and pass out Halloween Candy. You also had a few visitors: Sherry, Danny, Dylan, Lauren, Jenn, Ellie, Silas, and Sarah. You tolerated your costume well. You eventually got bored with Halloween and feel asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SRIuq7_D-tI/AAAAAAAAABw/PIrElX1wh8w/s1600-h/Paul+Halloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SRIuq7_D-tI/AAAAAAAAABw/PIrElX1wh8w/s200/Paul+Halloween.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265322229541108434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although you have no idea, you have witnessed a major turning point in our Country. Barack Obama was elected America's first African American president. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying each month with you. I enjoy watching your many milestones. I am on the sidelines cheering you on as you explore your new world and learn new things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-4706532888564171879?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/4706532888564171879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=4706532888564171879' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4706532888564171879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4706532888564171879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/11/paul-you-are-now-3-months-old-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SRIsQmkpj9I/AAAAAAAAABo/5bL2dicnqO4/s72-c/s42850ca111220_7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-3228471626105413735</id><published>2008-10-15T19:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T19:41:18.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love will find a way</title><content type='html'>"I have been surprised to find that I am given more life, more hope, more moments of buoyancy and redemption, the more I give up. The more I let go, do without, reduce, the more I feel rich. The more I let people be who they are instead of cramming them into what I need from them, the more surprised I am by their beauty and depth." -Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-3228471626105413735?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/3228471626105413735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=3228471626105413735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3228471626105413735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3228471626105413735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/10/love-will-find-way.html' title='Love will find a way'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-5577948007324168100</id><published>2008-10-13T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T16:22:03.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>But if we are the Body &lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His arms reaching &lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His hands healing &lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His words teaching &lt;br /&gt;And if we are the Body &lt;br /&gt;Why aren't His feet going &lt;br /&gt;Why is His love not showing them there is a way &lt;br /&gt;-Casting Crowns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an interesting weekend!  I got a chance this weekend to see why people may love Jesus but don't like the church.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Disclaimer: if you are reading this it probably isn't about you.  Please don't take offense to anything I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the craziness of the weekend and Steve's message on Sunday I'm asking myself the following questions: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can the church shed this image?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can we show people that being a Christian is a good thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can we love no matter what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I shed this image?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do people see Jesus through me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is my hearts desire?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I filling my life with junk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I want to get well?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-5577948007324168100?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/5577948007324168100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=5577948007324168100' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5577948007324168100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5577948007324168100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/10/but-if-we-are-body-why-arent-his-arms.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-4490999321878942474</id><published>2008-09-25T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T19:18:14.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How about that!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="width: 320px; border: 1px solid gray; font: normal 12px arial, verdana, sans-serif; background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style="background: white; color: black; padding: 5px;"&gt;&lt;b style="font: bold 20px 'Times New Roman', serif; display: block; margin-bottom: 8px;"&gt;What NBC "The Office" character are you?&lt;/b&gt; &lt;div style="font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 4px;"&gt;Your Result: &lt;b&gt;Jim Halpert&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="width: 200px; background: white; border: 1px solid black;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 77%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 10px; border: none; background: white; color: black;"&gt;You are the kind of person that everyone likes. You are funny, laid back, and not bad looking. You love practical jokes and having a fun time with your friends. However, because you are so laid back you often let the things that are most important to you get away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Dwight. Congratulations Universe, you win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Toby Flenderson&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 50%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Pam Beesly&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 47%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Angela Martin&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 41%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Dwight Kurt Schrute&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 34%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Kelly Kapoor&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 11%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Ryan Howard&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 9%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="color: black; background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;Michael Scott&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background: white; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 100px; background: white; border: 1px solid black; margin-top: 4px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 0%; background: red; font-size: 8px; line-height: 8px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" style="text-align: center; padding: 8px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gotoquiz.com/what_nbc_the_office_character_are_you"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What NBC "The Office" character are you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gotoquiz.com/"&gt;Quiz Created on GoToQuiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-4490999321878942474?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/4490999321878942474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=4490999321878942474' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4490999321878942474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4490999321878942474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/09/how-about-that.html' title='How about that!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-7164591966283890249</id><published>2008-09-19T11:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T06:24:36.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Paul</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SNRrpYJEavI/AAAAAAAAABE/E5swepYb9_k/s1600-h/IMG_0087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SNRrpYJEavI/AAAAAAAAABE/E5swepYb9_k/s200/IMG_0087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247937824392768242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I watch you grow with such amazement.  I can’t believe your dad and I created something so beautiful.  You are the hardest most rewarding job I have ever had.  I don’t know if it is even a job…it’s a privilege.  I am privileged to be your mommy.  Everyday I pray for you.  I pray that you will be a respectable, loving, intelligent, sincere, empathetic, courageous, thoughtful, God loving man.  I pray that I will teach you to treat others kindly and to always stand up for what you believe in.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you more than anything in this whole world.  A parents love is something I can’t describe.  It’s a deeper more passionate love.  It’s a love I’ve never experienced before.  You will understand someday when you have your own children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that the moment you were born you recognized my voice.  I love having such a connection with you.  Although sometimes it is tiring I love feeling so needed.  I hope that I raise you to be an independent man but I hope that you always make me feel needed in some way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my heart and soul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-7164591966283890249?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/7164591966283890249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=7164591966283890249' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7164591966283890249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7164591966283890249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-paul.html' title='To Paul'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SNRrpYJEavI/AAAAAAAAABE/E5swepYb9_k/s72-c/IMG_0087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8771921755769237395</id><published>2008-09-19T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:32:10.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pirates Life for Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SNPuRCOqScI/AAAAAAAAAA8/iOjWvRl18As/s1600-h/IMG_0424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SNPuRCOqScI/AAAAAAAAAA8/iOjWvRl18As/s200/IMG_0424.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247799967240309186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="position:relative; border-width:1px; border-color:332200; border-style: solid; background-color:c9b390; padding:0 10px; width:400px; text-align:center; font-family:serif; left:50%; margin:25px 0 25px -200px; color:332200;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    My pirate name is:&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div style="font-size:32px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Iron Mary Bonney    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;img src="http://www.piratequiz.com/flag.gif" style="top:5px; position:relative; display:block; width:100px; background-color:332200;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div style="left:110px; top:-60px; width:290px; position:relative; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    A pirate's life isn't easy; it takes a tough person. That's okay with you, though, since you a tough person. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well.    Arr!&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.piratequiz.com/" style="position:absolute; width:100%; left:0px; bottom:20px; color:f8eecc;"&gt;Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of the fidius.org network&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8771921755769237395?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8771921755769237395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8771921755769237395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8771921755769237395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8771921755769237395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/09/pirates-life-for-me.html' title='A Pirates Life for Me!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SNPuRCOqScI/AAAAAAAAAA8/iOjWvRl18As/s72-c/IMG_0424.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-506188864671634401</id><published>2008-08-27T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T08:16:32.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish you were here</title><content type='html'>Well, it's offical.  The graduated seniors that were in the youth group are starting college.  I miss them.  They feel like extended family members.  Little brothers and sisters.  For them I have this quote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll get mixed up, of course,&lt;br /&gt;as you already know.&lt;br /&gt;You'll get mixed up&lt;br /&gt;with many strange birds as you go.&lt;br /&gt;So be sure when you step.&lt;br /&gt;Step with care and great tact&lt;br /&gt;and remeber that Life's&lt;br /&gt;a Great Balancing Act.&lt;br /&gt;Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; mix up your right foot with your left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you will succeed?&lt;br /&gt;Yes! You will indeed!&lt;br /&gt;(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)&lt;br /&gt;KID YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray&lt;br /&gt;or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,&lt;br /&gt;you're off to Great Places!&lt;br /&gt;Today is your day!&lt;br /&gt;Your mountain is waiting.&lt;br /&gt;So...get on your way!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Oh the Places You'll Go, Dr. Seuss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-506188864671634401?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/506188864671634401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=506188864671634401' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/506188864671634401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/506188864671634401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/08/wish-you-were-here.html' title='Wish you were here'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-642882940424510071</id><published>2008-08-23T18:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T18:13:54.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1u-p4UXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7gxY_9oMMig/s1600-h/IMG_0722.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1u-p4UXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7gxY_9oMMig/s200/IMG_0722.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237886185329152370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1vDdeZtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/VkN0OjtnYVI/s1600-h/IMG_0787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1vDdeZtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/VkN0OjtnYVI/s200/IMG_0787.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237886186619299538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1vWiArGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2ooerAqA-us/s1600-h/IMG_0808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1vWiArGI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2ooerAqA-us/s200/IMG_0808.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237886191738596450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1vrujp4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/b9t9nzvKyIQ/s1600-h/IMG_0810.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1vrujp4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/b9t9nzvKyIQ/s200/IMG_0810.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237886197428365186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Lord!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-642882940424510071?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/642882940424510071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=642882940424510071' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/642882940424510071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/642882940424510071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/08/blessed.html' title='Blessed'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/SLC1u-p4UXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/7gxY_9oMMig/s72-c/IMG_0722.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-3559090062061758903</id><published>2008-08-12T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T12:55:38.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommyville</title><content type='html'>Things I have learned in my first few weeks of being a mom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Little boys can not be trusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Babies can pee as much as grown ups. Pee can fly across a room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If I cup my hands together it makes a great pee catcher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. There is such a thing as a poop volcano. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. While being a mom you never reach a sound sleep. Any little noise makes your mom-dar go off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You will do ANYTHING when it comes to your baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. It's ok to ask for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. You can pray several times a day for someone other than yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Sleep is overrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. There is such a thing as love at first sight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-3559090062061758903?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/3559090062061758903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=3559090062061758903' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3559090062061758903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3559090062061758903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/08/mommyville.html' title='Mommyville'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-162009603677807524</id><published>2008-07-05T19:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T19:26:45.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emmaus</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I took my journey to Emmaus. For those of you are not sure what Emmaus means you can look up a brief description here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emmaus_Walk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many stories I wish I could share but I can't. I can't because if anyone reading this would want to experience it and I told about my experience it would ruin things. I can say that what I experienced last weekend is almost unexplainable. I've waited a week and I'm still not sure I have the words for it. I'm not sure I'll ever find the words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that since last weekend God has been working on my heart tremendously. I don't feel like the same person and I certainly hope that I am not. However, I think this is going to be a process. Almost a cleansing process of my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I knew how a Christian should act, dress, pray, ect... little did I know I had no idea the heart of Jesus. I had it all wrong. There are many people I wish I could go back and apologize to for the way I acted and for the views I so strongly fought. I had no idea how stubborn I was being or how wrong I was. I felt an overwhelming love by other Christians last weekend. I felt the overwhelming love of God and Jesus and I can only say I strive to be more like that. I actually truly and undoubtedly have a knew passion in my heart...to truly and tenderheartedly love others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I might believe in the Redeemer if His followers looked more Redeemed." &lt;br /&gt;-Fredrick Nietczshe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My prayer is that Jesus helps me everyday to be more and more like him.  I am far far away from perfect.  I will never be perfect.  I am just merely striving to have a closer relationship, a stronger faith, and a better heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-162009603677807524?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/162009603677807524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=162009603677807524' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/162009603677807524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/162009603677807524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/07/emmaus.html' title='Emmaus'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-3301728911403491429</id><published>2008-05-18T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T19:06:24.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>So I haven't blogged in awhile and thought I'd give it a shot again. I'm not sure if anyone really follows my blog but for those of you who might here is an update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm glad for the green on the trees, the flowers in the ground, and that it is finally starting to warm up outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. For those of you that don't know...Brian and I moved so things have been kinda crazy for us lately. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm trying to take down wallpaper so Brian can paint the nursery (the nursery will have a monkey theme). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I am in my 3rd trimester of pregnancy. I really enjoy the pregnancy but can't wait for the conversation to be off of the size of my stomach. lol! We are 97% we are going to name the baby Paul. We do not have a middle name picked out yet. And finally, yes I'm nervous about getting him home but can't wait to have him here! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I'm really enjoying Monday night small group at the church. If you aren't going you are missing out on some good discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am really enjoying the youth group. I am so sad about the seniors graduating this coming Sunday. I'm so attached. I don't even think most of them know how much I love them and how proud I am of them. They are such a special group of kids! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's a quick update. I hope everyone is enjoying the weather!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-3301728911403491429?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/3301728911403491429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=3301728911403491429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3301728911403491429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3301728911403491429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/05/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-5635384667819293697</id><published>2008-03-27T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T06:50:08.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.quiztron.com/tests/color_is_soul_painte_quiz_23687.htm"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.quiztron.com/tests/color_is_soul_painte_quiz_23687.htm" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-5635384667819293697?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/5635384667819293697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=5635384667819293697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5635384667819293697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5635384667819293697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-6380678918116038742</id><published>2008-03-21T20:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T18:39:55.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I had to play along</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://bluepyramid.org/ia/itwjlrel.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Georgia Ref, Book Antiqua, Garamond" size="5"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're &lt;i&gt;Inherit the Wind&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="4"&gt;by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;font size="3"&gt;To you, the learning process is inherently about controversy. If&lt;br /&gt;people aren't having their minds stretched, how could they possibly be learning? This&lt;br /&gt;makes you a good but unpopular teacher, and the people around you are ready to make it&lt;br /&gt;a federal case. All you're asking them to do is evolve a little. But they would like&lt;br /&gt;you to be more creative. You would make an excellent lawyer, even though people think&lt;br /&gt;you love monkeys.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="2" face="Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the &lt;a href="http://bluepyramid.org/ia/bquiz.htm"&gt;Book Quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the &lt;a href="http://bluepyramid.org"&gt;Blue Pyramid&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lawyer...hmmm...imagine that.  I must be in the right field of work afterall.  And, I do kind of think monkeys are cute....but to think we evolved from them isn't all that flattering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-6380678918116038742?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/6380678918116038742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=6380678918116038742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6380678918116038742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6380678918116038742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-had-to-play-along.html' title='I had to play along'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-5196490752936814256</id><published>2008-03-16T17:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T10:19:21.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Update</title><content type='html'>I am in my 5th month of pregnancy, exactly 21 weeks.  We found out a week ago that we are having a little boy.  He made it pretty obvious.  Brian and I are very excited.  I love being pregnant.  I feel the best I have ever felt.  I’m also just very glad that I know it is a boy.  He is becoming his own little person and I am falling in love with him and I already know it’s a love like I’ve never experienced before.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian felt what he knew for sure was the baby moving yesterday.  That was a pretty exciting experience.  It’s amazing how we are starting to evolve into feeling like parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to the big question…what are we going to name him?  Answer: we have no clue.  It’s not that we haven’t put thought into it.  We have put a lot of thought into this but we just don’t have an answer.  We have looked through baby books and nothing just stands out and says “That’s it!”   Our heritage is German, Irish, English, and Scottish for the most part.  We also like Biblical names.  Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-5196490752936814256?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/5196490752936814256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=5196490752936814256' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5196490752936814256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5196490752936814256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/03/baby-update.html' title='Baby Update'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-5186354326001591840</id><published>2008-03-13T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T07:43:05.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a Christian</title><content type='html'>Christians&lt;br /&gt;By Maya Angelou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'."&lt;br /&gt;I'm whispering "I was lost,&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm found and forgiven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I don't speak of this with pride.&lt;br /&gt;I'm confessing that I stumble&lt;br /&gt;and need Christ to be my guide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I'm not trying to be strong.&lt;br /&gt;I'm professing that I'm weak&lt;br /&gt;And need His strength to carry on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I'm not bragging of success.&lt;br /&gt;I'm admitting I have failed&lt;br /&gt;And need God to clean my mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I'm not claiming to be perfect,&lt;br /&gt;My flaws are far too visible&lt;br /&gt;But, God believes I am worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I still feel the sting of pain.&lt;br /&gt;I have my share of heartaches&lt;br /&gt;So I call upon His name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say..."I am a Christian"&lt;br /&gt;I'm not holier than thou,&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a simple sinner&lt;br /&gt;Who received God's good grace, somehow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-5186354326001591840?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/5186354326001591840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=5186354326001591840' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5186354326001591840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5186354326001591840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am-christian.html' title='I am a Christian'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-685442272360608419</id><published>2008-03-11T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T20:08:47.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Worry, Be Happy</title><content type='html'>What am I doing right now? Not sleeping. Why? Because I'm really busy worrying about everything. By everything I really do mean everything. I come from a long line of worriers. I worry over everything...all minor and major details have to be taken into consideration. I know I know..."Give it to God." I have trust me, I really have. Yet I still worry. It's an obsession of mine. I'm obsessed with worrying...how dumb is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just had some of those days lately. Days that are really bad but have their good days in between. You know the days where everything you touch just rots right there in front of you? I feel like a can't do anything right. So many expectations and so little time to fill all those expectations. And, do you ever try to please someone so much that you just screw it up? I've went about pleasing people in all the wrong ways lately. I assumed what they wanted. It wasn't what they wanted and now I'm worrying about fixing all of that! To others it's probably no big deal...to me and my pregnant mind...END-O'-THE-WORLD! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drag your thoughts away from your troubles... by the ears, by the heels, or any other way you can manage it. ~Mark Twain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-685442272360608419?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/685442272360608419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=685442272360608419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/685442272360608419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/685442272360608419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/03/dont-worry-be-happy.html' title='Don&apos;t Worry, Be Happy'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-4821433775101177510</id><published>2008-02-21T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T06:51:04.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's with the snow?</title><content type='html'>I'm so ready for spring.  I miss sunshine, flowers, renewal.  I am so bored with the snow.  It's pretty for awhile and then it turns to muck and it's dangerous.  I feel like a flightless bird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-4821433775101177510?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/4821433775101177510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=4821433775101177510' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4821433775101177510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4821433775101177510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/02/whats-with-snow.html' title='What&apos;s with the snow?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8115134790770819081</id><published>2008-02-19T12:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T12:07:08.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You be the judge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://potomacnews.mgblogs.com/images/uploads/Mark-Cuban.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://potomacnews.mgblogs.com/images/uploads/Mark-Cuban.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Billionaire Mark Cuban...a possible Steve Good impersonator?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8115134790770819081?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8115134790770819081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8115134790770819081' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8115134790770819081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8115134790770819081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-be-judge.html' title='You be the judge'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-2449696628988667471</id><published>2008-02-09T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T19:48:56.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy</title><content type='html'>I'm not really sure how to start out this post.  I just want to talk about being pregnant and the joys and effects.  I feel so blessed and so completely amazed that I am going to be a parent.  How could this human being be forming in me?  I am holding a life.  Wow!  A life!  I've never wanted so many random things from double cheeseburgers, to thinking the existence of a hamburger was repulsive, to Doritos and melted cheese, then lucky charms and chocolate milk, and now I believe I still like the Chocolate milk but I would have to say Cardo's Salad with ranch is a new craving.  I also am in love with boneless Honey B.B.Q. wings from Buffalo Wild Wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I generally enjoy being pregnant.  However, I don't like the comments of "wow you look huge" and "are you having twins'?  For the record I'm not having twins and this question makes me want to dig a hole, sit in it for awhile, cry, and then return to normal life lol!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just generally in awe.  I can't believe this miracle.  I'm completely amazed by God's work.  Feeling this tiny baby move I think to myself...how can anyone deny there is a God?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-2449696628988667471?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/2449696628988667471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=2449696628988667471' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/2449696628988667471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/2449696628988667471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/02/pregnancy.html' title='Pregnancy'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-205894903453032806</id><published>2008-02-07T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T18:37:27.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is for Eli.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. One book that changed your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have to give the typical answer here and say the Bible.  I would also like to add Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. One book you’ve read more than once&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanished by Tess Grisham.  Yes, it was twisted but that's why I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in the process of rereading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. One book you’d want on a desert island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again I would say the Bible.  Maybe I could find a certain prayer that would help me get off the island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Two books that made you laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. One book that made you cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Color Purple by Alice Walker and The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. One book you wish had been written&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am with Eli on this...Steve Good needs to write a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. One book you wish had never been written&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't tend to read books that I wish would have never been written.  However, Brian and I were in Borders and there was a book about how to grow marijuana...kind of dumb especially since you know growing it is actually illegal!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. One book you’re currently reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They Like Jesus but Not the Church by Dan Kimball; rereading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell; What to Expect When you are Excepting by Heidi Murkoff, Arlene Eisenberg &amp; Sandee Hathaway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. One book you’ve been meaning to read&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my Tag List:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaki, Jodi, Steve, Laura, Sarah Cornish, and John Williams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-205894903453032806?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/205894903453032806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=205894903453032806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/205894903453032806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/205894903453032806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-is-for-eli.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-7797481223891719100</id><published>2008-01-27T17:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T17:39:32.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revelation</title><content type='html'>Alright so the last post was a little over the top with emotion...but...I don't choose to delete it. I still kind of feel that way and that's exactly how I felt at the time. It was blunt, honest, and I wasn't pretending.  Sometimes I wonder why I care so much. So going on that I really enjoyed Steve's message today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is no room for pretending in spiritual life. Unfortunately, in many religious circles, there exists an unwritten rule: pretend. Give the impression that everything is ok in your life when it's not; pretend you believe when you doubt; hide your imperfections; and whenever you do, don't admit you sin. The essence of messy spirituality is the refusal to pretend, to lie, or to allow others to believe we are something we are not. Yet, most people can handle the most difficult of issues easier than they can handle the lack of pretending."- Mike Yaconelli, Messy Spirituality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am realizing more and more each day that I need to let God intervene in my life. I have a lot of stress and issues that I think I can take care of..the truth...I can't do it on my own. God wants me to seek him. He likes me in my weakness. I don't have to pretend for him I just have to come as I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There's something terribly attractive about knowing what to do to make things better in your life. If we can explain why we feel so bad in terms of something specific and correctable--like not spending enough time in 'devotions,' then we can do something about it. Nothing is more terrifying than staring at a problem for which we have no solutions under our direct control. Trusting another is perhaps the most difficult requirement of the Christian life. We hate to be dependent because we have learned to trust no one--not fully--because we know better; everyone in whom we have placed our confidence has in some way disappointed us. To trust fully, we conclude, is suicide." -Larry Crabb, Inside Out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize the only person I can fully trust is God. He is the person I need to turn to. I can't even fully trust myself with all my problems. That's why he is there...I can turn all my problems over to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Listen for GOD'S voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6 (NLT/The Message)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord,&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to turn to you with all my problems. Give me hope and faith that you are doing what is best for me. Allow me to lose my control and not care so much. Help me to listen for your voice in everything and realize that you will (and even want to) direct my paths. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-7797481223891719100?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/7797481223891719100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=7797481223891719100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7797481223891719100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7797481223891719100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/01/revelation.html' title='Revelation'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-3343385119770282323</id><published>2008-01-25T18:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T09:49:43.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am a woman. Being a woman does not equal stupid. I also have a name. I have an opinion and it is worth something. Therefore, do not give me snotty looks when I open my mouth. Don't walk away when I'm talking to you because you could care less what I have to say. Do not tell me to do something...ask me to do it. Do not give up all faith in me because I am a woman. Respect me and you will receive the same in return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am your equal whether you happen to like it or not. Many women before me earned the right for me to be called your equal. You do not think I'm your equal? Then you try scrubbing the bathroom (including the toilet), being pregnant, caring and worrying about others way more than yourself, and putting yourself last at all times! So you think you do more than me because you can carry large loads. Wanna switch? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some women that like their high heels, expensive makeup, expensive purses, fancy cars, and little dogs that can travel around with them. Although I might enjoy some luxuries in life...I am not that type of woman. I'm not an air head so don't treat me like one! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please see that just as yourself I am an asset. I'm worth something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, for anyone that would be reading this...it isn't directed to you. Also, my marriage is not in shambles. This is not about my husband. I happen to respect and love my husband. My husband is a nice man and he isn't disrespectful to me. This is just a rant...that's all...a rant...nothing more...nothing less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-3343385119770282323?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/3343385119770282323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=3343385119770282323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3343385119770282323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3343385119770282323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-am-woman-hear-me-roar.html' title=''/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-224805863964020579</id><published>2008-01-23T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T19:18:14.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I need you</title><content type='html'>Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do this on my own anymore.  Please take these stressors I'm dealing with and help me turn them in to something positive.  I am not good with giving over control but I realize I need you.  Please give me the strength to give it all to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-224805863964020579?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/224805863964020579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=224805863964020579' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/224805863964020579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/224805863964020579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-need-you.html' title='I need you'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-6634273614791269169</id><published>2008-01-05T06:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T06:49:59.927-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shock Value</title><content type='html'>The below post was not written by me but rather by someone I know. Her name is Sarai and she is an amazing girl. I've known Sarai for a very long time and she is a God loving woman, beautiful, inspirational, and very talented...she writes her own music and you can check it out here.... http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;friendid=25504187.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Sarai's post from facebook. It really made me think and I hope it does the same for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shock Value. An interesting addiction that lingers and lingers becoming more powerful by the second. It controls minds, hearts, emotions, thoughts, decisions, actions and consequences. It contains you’re darkest secrets, your deepest fears and has the power to break you. Most of you reading this will probably stop here because it has nothing to do with you. I’m afraid you’re wrong. I have researched the depths to which this illness, addiction or wound if you may, has crawled and the results blew me away. It is something that is in us the moment we are born and whether its card is played or not is our decision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What exactly is shock value? The dictionary will tell you the word shock means …“an unexpected, intense, and distressing experience that has a sudden and powerful effect on somebody's emotions or physical reactions..” I was shocked to wake up after overdosing…alive. I’m sure you can insert your own shock here. The meaning of value…“the worth, importance, or usefulness of something to somebody.” I value love from others towards me and from me towards others. I value my faith no matter how distant it can seem sometimes. And you? What do you value? Take a minute to answer this question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With these definitions combined we see Shock Value as this, read it slowly: An unexpected, intense, and distressing experience, that has a sudden and powerful effect on somebody’s emotions or physical reactions caused by the worth, importance, or usefulness of something to somebody. &lt;br /&gt;Read it again…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about this. Is it possible that we are so overwhelmed with the possibility of our worth to something or someone that we have to drastically test it? Is it not enough to love and be loved and simply accept love’s existence? Shock value, ladies and gentleman, is what we create it to be. It has no general preference to its appearance, it does not affect only the “broken” but the pioneer brave enough to test the lengths of his or her value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But God…the amazing, spotless, perfect being…cannot be shocked. He cannot be scared or surprised and he will not react at our greatest attempts to do so. I wonder why so many of my friends have turned their hearts away after being so engulfed in their faith. Disappointment came running in when they realized there was not a catch. No agenda with what God had to offer when he sent Jesus to save our dramatic back sides. It was simple. Love. A love that cannot be tested to prove its strength. Jesus proved it by doing what no man could EVER duplicate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you testing in your life? &lt;br /&gt;Are you cutting to test the strength of your will? If you have the will to do it, you are stronger than you think..&lt;br /&gt;Are you hurting other people to test the love of your parents who just aren’t around as much as you want them to be?&lt;br /&gt;Are you dousing your body with toxins every Friday night to test your “church” friends to stop you?&lt;br /&gt;Are you crawling out of the backseat of a car, or from under the sheets or from off the couch with someone to test if your purity actually exists?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe, you are being as bad as you can possibly be to prove you can do it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve spent ¾ of my life trying to shock love out of people because I couldn't accept its reality. And to this day I have to fight with my own mind to refuse its calling. You and I can shock and awe the entire world, but we cannot shock Jesus and we cannot shock God and no matter how hard we try his love is what it is and will never change. I’ve cried and cried at the realization of this…after 12 years…I can finally stop trying to prove myself. The shock value factor ends here. We’ve heard it a hundred times but it has never seem clearer than now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romans 8:38-39&lt;br /&gt;“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor ANY powers, neither height nor depth, nor ANYTHING else in ALL creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My resolution. And I pray yours. Happy New Year….Sarai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John 16:22 &lt;br /&gt;"For now you have sorrow, but I will come back for you again and in that day your heart will rejoice and I will give you a joy no one can take."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-6634273614791269169?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/6634273614791269169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=6634273614791269169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6634273614791269169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6634273614791269169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2008/01/shock-value.html' title='Shock Value'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-954646722262053152</id><published>2007-12-26T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T15:47:49.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ABC's of Me</title><content type='html'>A= Available~ No I've been married 3 years.&lt;br /&gt;B= Best Friend~ God, Brian, Lori, Julie, Sherrie. &lt;br /&gt;C= Cake or pie~ Both.&lt;br /&gt;D= Drink of choice~ Milk.&lt;br /&gt;E= Essential item you use everyday~ Computer.&lt;br /&gt;F= Favorite color~ Purple, blues, and hot pinks.&lt;br /&gt;G= Gummy bears or worms~ sour worms or sour patch kids  &lt;br /&gt;H= Hometown~ Waverly&lt;br /&gt;I= Indulgences~ Chocolate and getting my hair done. &lt;br /&gt;J= January or February~ Feb. Brian's birthday and Valentines Day.&lt;br /&gt;K= Kids and Names~ We have a baby on the way! No certain names yet.&lt;br /&gt;L= Life is incomplete without?~ Love, Faith, Hope, and Trust.&lt;br /&gt;M= Marriage date~ Oct. 9, 2004. &lt;br /&gt;N= Number of siblings~ 2 brothers 1 sister.&lt;br /&gt;O= Oranges or apples~ Oranges.&lt;br /&gt;P= Phobias or Fears~ Losing the ones I love.&lt;br /&gt;Q= Favorite Quotes~  &lt;br /&gt;I don't know why others do not see their faults. I would if I had any. (Regarding judging others).&lt;br /&gt;-In Loving Memory of my Mother, Judy Kempton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be who you are and say what you feel because those that mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. &lt;br /&gt;-Dr. Seuss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each one of them is Jesus in disguise.&lt;br /&gt;-Mother Teresa &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;R= Reason to smile~ Becoming a mommy! &lt;br /&gt;S= Season~ Spring.  I love to see the rebirth and birth of things.&lt;br /&gt;T= Tag 3 or 4 people~ Ummm...just play if you want to. &lt;br /&gt;U= Unknown fact about me~ I play World of Warcraft.&lt;br /&gt;V= Vegetable you don't like~ peas.&lt;br /&gt;W= Worst habit~ slouching and biting my nails.&lt;br /&gt;X= X-rays~ just one I sprang my ankle. &lt;br /&gt;Y= Your favorite food~ doritos with melted cheese.&lt;br /&gt;Z= Zodiac Sign~ Sag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-954646722262053152?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/954646722262053152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=954646722262053152' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/954646722262053152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/954646722262053152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/12/abcs-of-me.html' title='ABC&apos;s of Me'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-4468293141085019376</id><published>2007-12-12T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T19:18:45.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know what Chillicothe needs</title><content type='html'>Where is the Barnes and Nobel? That's what Chillicothe needs not another restaurant!  I love bookstores and yet Chillicothe owns no massive bookstores.  I would start a petition but who is going to listen?  Ahhh...story of my life lol!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-4468293141085019376?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/4468293141085019376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=4468293141085019376' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4468293141085019376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4468293141085019376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-know-what-chillicothe-needs.html' title='I know what Chillicothe needs'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8946863658586170979</id><published>2007-12-03T13:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T05:58:05.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday's Message &amp; Mondays Ramblings</title><content type='html'>Some of this post is from Steve's message on Sunday. It was a good message for me. It made me think. Other than that you will find a good mixture of Steve's message and rambling. I'm having one of those days today...the kind where your sometimes the bug and I can only hope to be the windshield soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some questions that Steve posed on Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Is your life built on the rocks or on the sand? &lt;br /&gt;A: I did write an answer and then I erased it. I'm not positive I can answer this question right now. My life is not entirely built on rock...this is a constant struggle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How do I simply live my life so that others want to follow?&lt;br /&gt;A: I try. I try to love my God, I try to be a nice person, I try to be compassionate, I try to be loving, I try to be caring, I try, I try, I try everyday. Hopefully, people will see that trying is enough... you don't HAVE to be perfect to do this thing...to believe in God...to have this Christianity thing down perfect. Just try. Have faith. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These questions were then followed with a quote..."In this life, we cannot do great things; we can only do small things...with great love"-Mother Teresa.&lt;br /&gt;I try to do small things constantly and I try to do this everyday. However, I think maybe if I just do this great thing...I put to much pressure on myself. I think I can hit the Easy button...this one great thing will take care of the rest. Wrong! It won't and it probably won't even feel good. This isn't a rush thing. You can't push fast forward you have to push play. Small things are a life long process...if you do one big thing then you probably aren't doing the small things everyday to love someone daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Elemental Faith&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Love one another.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes this is hard. I love people and I love being around people. But, people sometimes make me feel really down on myself. People have discouraging things to say and people don't appreciate you. I'm a big Words of Affirmation person and this not appreciating thing is really getting to me. I don't want high praise (I don't even deserve it) I just wish people could find more good than bad. And, people probably do find more good than bad we as humans are just not good at giving people compliments. Anyways, there is much more than loving one another than this. Love takes on many different aspects. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Love your enemies. &lt;br /&gt;This can be hard. What if you truly believe someone has wronged you? What if you think they need to apologize? It's hard to get past it but according to Matthew 5:43-44 it's something I need to strive harder to do. Something I really like that Steve said was that he realized "this will have to come somewhere outside of me." I think that loving our enemies is an extremely hard task and that we just can't do it alone we have to pray about it and rely on God to take care of this for us. This may even mean he wants us to step out of our comfort zone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Don't fight back.&lt;br /&gt;This is hard for someone that thinks they have to have the last word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Work out your difference.&lt;br /&gt;Another thing Steve said that I liked "I realized I was mad at this guy and that he was renting space in my head for free." lol! I just love that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Check your motives.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes do you every wonder what it was really about in the first place? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways thanks Steve for a great message on Sunday that has entertained my mind enough to write a blog about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8946863658586170979?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8946863658586170979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8946863658586170979' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8946863658586170979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8946863658586170979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/12/sundays-message-mondays-ramblings.html' title='Sunday&apos;s Message &amp; Mondays Ramblings'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-7309484724969091288</id><published>2007-11-25T18:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T18:26:52.441-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramblings</title><content type='html'>This 4 day weekend off of work was amazing. Wednesday night started everything off with a bang. Big Wednesday at RVCC was just...indescribable. That's right I can't put any words to it. That is the best I have felt in a long time. I'm not the normal lift your hands type of girl or even one that cries in front of people. I let that go on Wednesday because I...well I just needed to do that for myself. Someone "new" that I was sitting with loved it as well...her comment was "This is great.  If people can cheer and get excited at a sporting event they can cheer and get excited at church."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving...this was the first year without my mom. I was dreading Thanksgiving. Really really dreading Thanksgiving (emphasis on really really). Can I add my God is AMAZING here. Yes, I must...insert...MY GOD IS AMAZING. He got me through this holiday....this holiday I really really dreaded. He made this holiday special and I just praise him for that. I think I had my mind set that it wouldn't be good and celebrating Thanksgiving without my mom not here was wrong. It was wrong because I should be sad. God had other plans...praise him he had other plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, well I usually get up at the crack of dawn Friday...you know black friday...and go shopping. Not this year I slept and it was good...really really good. I then spent the rest of the day with my sister and then had a youth leader meeting that night. Can I just say how much I like the other youth leaders at RVCC? I mean wow! Our RVCC kids are lucky...Eli, Jenn, Marty, Jenn, Chris, Tesa...they are amazing. I'm so thankful that they are helping me with this goal of mine to become a youth leader. This is really important to me and these people are taking me under their wing without resistance. They are the definition of small things done with great love. I just want to conclude with RVCC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, I decided RVCC needs it's own paragraph. lol! Again I am thankful for all the people that support me and are helping me reach my goal of becoming a youth leader. Also, I have been attending RVCC for about 4 1/2 years now...since age 18 or 19 and I'll be 24 next month. Anyways, I've always loved RVCC and called it my church and but now it's really "my church" it's "my home church". Lately I have felt so connected to this church and the people that go there. I love our pastor and his family. I love when Steve preaches, I love Jaki's smile, I love Laura Tiu's greetings in the morning, I love a quick chat with Mark Percell, I love the youth leaders, I love Julie P.'s enthusiasm, Jodi &amp; Julie are down to earth, Paula and Shawn White are great to talk to, I love the youth kids, Vicki is amazing and Guy Hause has been around me since jr. high, Marty is amazing at worship, and Anna knows how to choke a sista up every once in awhile with her voice...there are many more people that go to my church that I adore...I love the people that go to my church. They are a group of loving amazing people. I am happy at RVCC. I am blessed at RVCC. I am myself at RVCC. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that was a lot of rambling. But, It was good for the soul to blog tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-7309484724969091288?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/7309484724969091288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=7309484724969091288' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7309484724969091288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7309484724969091288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/11/ramblings.html' title='Ramblings'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-1438334783227949234</id><published>2007-11-14T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T17:49:04.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Be Kinda Smart! Lol!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.criticsrant.com/bb/reading_level.aspx"&gt;&lt;img style="border: none;" src="http://www.criticsrant.com/bb/readinglevel/img/undergrad.jpg" alt="cash advance" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;small&gt;Get a &lt;a href="http://www.cashadvance1500.com"&gt;Cash  Advance&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-1438334783227949234?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/1438334783227949234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=1438334783227949234' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/1438334783227949234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/1438334783227949234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-be-kinda-smart-lol.html' title='I Be Kinda Smart! Lol!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-683586075086075641</id><published>2007-10-24T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T16:09:44.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Thoughts</title><content type='html'>What do you think about Jesus?  Not the church or Christians...just Jesus.  What do you think of him?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Describe "your" Jesus to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-683586075086075641?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/683586075086075641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=683586075086075641' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/683586075086075641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/683586075086075641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/10/your-thoughts.html' title='Your Thoughts'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-7951102885437536678</id><published>2007-10-23T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T19:17:18.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quizzes can be fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Scored an A&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/theitsitstheretheirtheyrequiz/a.gif" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got 10/10 questions correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty obvious that you don't make basic grammatical errors.&lt;br /&gt;If anything, you're annoyed when people make simple mistakes on their blogs.&lt;br /&gt;As far as people with bad grammar go, you know they're only human.&lt;br /&gt;And it's humanity and its current condition that truly disturb you sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/theitsitstheretheirtheyrequiz/"&gt;The It's Its There Their They're Quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-7951102885437536678?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/7951102885437536678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=7951102885437536678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7951102885437536678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7951102885437536678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/10/quizzes-can-be-fun.html' title='Quizzes can be fun!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-3646229323208218345</id><published>2007-10-21T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T10:42:40.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I watched a chick flick and I kind of liked it</title><content type='html'>Alright, I hate to admit it but I watched a chick flick last night on the Lifetime movie channel (or as my brother-in-law and husband call it the man hater channel).  When I tell you what movie it was most of you women will gasp in shock (and/or horror) that I haven't seen this movie until now.  The movie was Pretty Woman and my favorite quote was this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The bad stuff is easier to believe, ever notice that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your thoughts about this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-3646229323208218345?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/3646229323208218345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=3646229323208218345' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3646229323208218345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/3646229323208218345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-watched-chick-flick-and-i-kind-of.html' title='I watched a chick flick and I kind of liked it'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8576343972469226116</id><published>2007-10-16T19:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T19:50:51.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Thing Called Life</title><content type='html'>Have you ever called somewhere and just wanted to get through to a real person but instead you press all these buttons and get this automated system?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I do this in life! Press 1 for English. Some people you talk to act like they have no idea what you are talking about when you try to be "real" and you keep pressing 1 for English but they just don't get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Press 2 for Customer Service. Urg! I don't want everyone to know my problems. This is personal. I'll wait for the next number!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Press 3 for...then you get this person telling you "if you just pray harder" or "time heals all wounds" or "Jesus loves you anyways"...hmmm...nice but not what I was looking for right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Press 4...I am talking to myself at this point right? This line is no help. This line is making me feel angry. I want to talk to a "REAL PERSON"! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Press # for a directory. What? I don't really know who I want to talk to...ummm...just a "REAL PERSON"!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then all those extra buttons and you finally get through to a real person to talk to. Someone that tells you it's ok to feel the way you are feeling. It makes me feel a little more satisfied and a little more justified. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, when I hang up I'm going to call someone else...paging God! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that was my scenario of the people you run into in your life. And, really you need to talk over your problems with the people nearest and dearest to you (real people) and you need to talk to the one that always gets you...God! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes this post is totally random and I am totally tired!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8576343972469226116?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8576343972469226116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8576343972469226116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8576343972469226116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8576343972469226116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/10/this-thing-called-life.html' title='This Thing Called Life'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-825955900700963775</id><published>2007-10-13T05:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T05:26:42.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 YEARS &amp; GOING STRONG!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/RxC2uTzxztI/AAAAAAAAAAU/TOYxZGhGXgY/s1600-h/Sarah+%26+Brian_marty+ford.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/RxC2uTzxztI/AAAAAAAAAAU/TOYxZGhGXgY/s320/Sarah+%26+Brian_marty+ford.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120793683027939026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog is being posted a little late. October 9th Brian and I celebrated 3 years of marriage. I am not sure how I got so lucky but I thank God for him all time time! He is so loving, caring, compassionate, giving, kind, sarcastic, humorous, fun, and....well, I could go on and on about him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone that knows us well knows that we are on opposite sides of the spectrum. Brian has an engineer mind. He is good at math, science, computer work, and all those brainy type things. I am better at literature, history, and I love being artsy fartsy. Brian also has what Marty "Chillicothe" Ford calls "mad fire making skills" and well, I'm not very gifted in that area lol! However, I think that this is what makes us "us" and this is the very reason we get along so well. That and I do enjoy a man that brings me cappuccino = )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, as you can tell, I've enjoyed the 3 years that I have been married to Brian and I look forward to more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-825955900700963775?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/825955900700963775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=825955900700963775' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/825955900700963775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/825955900700963775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/10/3-years-going-strong.html' title='3 YEARS &amp; GOING STRONG!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/RxC2uTzxztI/AAAAAAAAAAU/TOYxZGhGXgY/s72-c/Sarah+%26+Brian_marty+ford.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-917723717152668989</id><published>2007-09-25T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T05:38:15.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IF WE ARE THE BODY WHY IS HIS LOVE NOT SHOWING THEM THERE IS A WAY?</title><content type='html'>The other day (Sunday) I was completely enjoying a day in the park with friends.  I was helping a co-worker with a photo shoot of two kids I just adore!  A woman came up to me in the park and asked if I had any money, if I could help her in anyway.  I told her no that I didn’t have my purse on me.  My purse was in the car…which…was not far away from me at all.  I brushed it off and continued my nice day in the park with friends.  I thought to myself she will probably use the money for drugs or booze.  It wasn’t until later (much later, Tuesday actually) that this struck me and I wrestled with it tremendously.  I lied to that woman.  I could help her!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time when I was a little girl (about age 10) there was a homeless man sitting by a store entrance in Columbus, Ohio.  He was asking for handouts.  I thought then to myself he probably wouldn’t use our money for the right cause.  I then heard two teenage girls talking.  One of the girls gave the man money and the other girl was fussing to her friend about giving the money to him.  The girl that gave the money said… “Momma says that they could be angels in disguise.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about that!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I just disappoint God by my reaction to this woman in the park?  Even greater yet what if she wasn’t an angel?  What if she was just an ordinary person that needed my help?  I just passed up a chance to tend to the flock!  I feel such a heavy burden lying on my shoulders.  I feel such a deep disservice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I choose not to help her?  I am surely not to good to tend to my Makers flock.  Why didn’t I shove some money into her hand and pray with her? I know someone that can take care of all of her needs.  I could have helped!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is what I did.  I can’t change that I didn’t help that woman.  I would have reacted differently if this would have went through my head sooner.   Anyways, I prayed that God would tend to her, help her, and fulfill her longings.  Then I prayed for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-917723717152668989?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/917723717152668989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=917723717152668989' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/917723717152668989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/917723717152668989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/09/if-we-are-body-why-is-his-love-not.html' title='IF WE ARE THE BODY WHY IS HIS LOVE NOT SHOWING THEM THERE IS A WAY?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8265060415125825182</id><published>2007-09-19T20:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T20:04:41.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yarrr Ye Salty Dogs!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/RvHjLi8UZ3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/1cnfSJZHL60/s1600-h/IMG_0426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/RvHjLi8UZ3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/1cnfSJZHL60/s320/IMG_0426.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112116839540090738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It be National Talk Like a Pirate Day Ye Scallywags!  I be thinkin' this image be givin' ye a little entertainment!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8265060415125825182?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8265060415125825182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8265060415125825182' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8265060415125825182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8265060415125825182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/09/yarrr-ye-salty-dogs.html' title='Yarrr Ye Salty Dogs!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_1YWxI9a8p4w/RvHjLi8UZ3I/AAAAAAAAAAM/1cnfSJZHL60/s72-c/IMG_0426.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-6884447393426335299</id><published>2007-09-18T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T22:40:04.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY AM I AWAKE?</title><content type='html'>It's 1:36 a.m.  I should be in bed.  I have to get up at 7:00 a.m. but I am wide awake.  I am thinking about everything but sleeping.  URG!  I hate nights like these.  Brian is currently out of town and when he is gone I just can't sleep.  Isn't it funny...when you get married it's hard to sleep with that person beside you and then after you have been married awhile it's hard to sleep when they aren't beside you?  I hate when he is gone.  I miss my best friend :(  Also, I can't sleep b/c I have been having this wonderful sinus problem in the evenings.  Anyone else with me on the sinus stuff?  URG!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-6884447393426335299?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/6884447393426335299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=6884447393426335299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6884447393426335299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6884447393426335299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/09/why-am-i-awake.html' title='WHY AM I AWAKE?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-1955241794044961553</id><published>2007-09-15T19:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T19:28:32.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM BLESSED!</title><content type='html'>Today Brian and I visited the Creation Museum in Kentucky.  I can’t describe it to you because if I tried it wouldn’t do it justice.  It’s amazing and too truly know how great it is you have to go yourself!  I’m so glad that someone has taken a stand and said here is what “we” believe and like it or not we have made a museum out of it!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I never really challenged science and Evolution.  I just figured Evolution was wrong and I had the Bible and that to me was proof enough.  Yes, it is proof enough but why?  I didn’t know what the Bible really had to say that completely challenged Evolution.  This may seem like a dumb post but if you go see the Creation Museum for yourself you will know what I mean by my above statements. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The museum takes you through the 7 C’s:  Creation, Corruption, Catastrophe, Confusion, Christ, Cross, Consummation.  And, just so you know how amazing this museum is I’ll let you know how long it took us to get through the entire thing…ready?  It took us 5 hours!  It probably could have taken longer but we didn’t tour the outside grounds!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part was the Planetarium.  Something about the stars, planets, galaxy, all of it just amazes me.  But, the best part about the Planetarium is that I sat beside a woman with downs syndrome.  The entire time we were in the Planetarium she would say “oohhhhh, wow, how cool, but my favorite was….God you are amazing.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God for the blessing I had today sitting beside this woman.  She was so innocent, raw, and incredibly in love with and amazed by you!    My prayer is that you “open the eyes of my heart!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-1955241794044961553?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/1955241794044961553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=1955241794044961553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/1955241794044961553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/1955241794044961553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-am-blessed.html' title='I AM BLESSED!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-913886722616972165</id><published>2007-09-11T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T15:03:36.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is really Tuesday?  It seems sooo like a Monday!</title><content type='html'>Wow what a day!  Last night I parked at my sister’s house (less than a minutes walk from my house) because our newly paved driveway was still drying.  All fine and good except I forgot that I parked my car there, and while I was already running late this morning, I had to walk to my car in the pouring rain (yes, for your information, I couldn’t find an umbrella). Ok whatever, I didn’t like my clothes and makeup this morning anyways…so a little rain? Not that big of a deal…kinda sorta…I’m just telling myself this so I don’t get upset.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so I’m in my car and I’m singing, praying, and thinking…thinking about everything else but driving…big opps!  I about caused a major accident today.  Dang it!  I get so mad at myself I should have been paying attention!  The guy in the other car is flipping me off and making smacking motions in the air like he would have really like to tear my head off and I’m saying sorry like an idiot.  He probably can’t understand me, and he certainly can’t hear me.  I’m just glad I’m not dead (thank you God)!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright I’m working…going well…interruptions…what?  Interruptions?  I can’t deal with this today.  Why?  I don’t know.  I’m telling myself…multitask Sarah it’s not hard.  It’s lunch time now…I’m going to work lunch and I feel good about that.  I can get my work done…great!  So I’m driving through the Wendy’s and I’m thinking about what needs done when I get back to work…I look down…are you kiddin’ me?  I have a giant hole in the crotch of my pants!  URRRGGG!  Who needs a hole in the crotch of their pants on a day like this?  Ok I have a long shirt on and I have a safety pin at work…I can deal with this.  I still don’t like it but I can improvise.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the evening went well…I had a lil’ comic relief with my wonderful co-worker Erica.  I thank God that I get to work with her.  I didn’t used too I used to try to compete with her but now I just love her!  She keeps my sanity!  I love laughing with her…now my day is good!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I’m trying to figure out the issue at hand…what’s got my mind so on everything else?  I need to find the heart of this problem.  What is it that is truly distracting me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-913886722616972165?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/913886722616972165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=913886722616972165' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/913886722616972165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/913886722616972165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/09/today-is-really-tuesday-it-seems-sooo.html' title='Today is really Tuesday?  It seems sooo like a Monday!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-5776417559332865812</id><published>2007-08-25T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T08:42:10.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go Is The Hardest Thing</title><content type='html'>I am overwhelmed by this house today.  Everything reminds me of her.  I feel as if I can almost hear her laugh today.  I miss my mom a lot today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her clothes are still in her closet just the way she always had them.&lt;br /&gt;She liked things with “personality” so there are a lot of little whimsical things around the house.  &lt;br /&gt;Everything is pretty much the way she left it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe today is a good day for a drive : )&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-5776417559332865812?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/5776417559332865812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=5776417559332865812' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5776417559332865812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/5776417559332865812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/letting-go-is-hardest-thing.html' title='Letting Go Is The Hardest Thing'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-4402584749906120159</id><published>2007-08-21T14:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T14:16:10.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trust...Just Another 5 Letter Word...</title><content type='html'>Why are the easiest words in the English language so hard to wrap your mind around? Trust. Love. Hope. Grace. Faith. Truth. Hate. Hurt.  Think it is easy?  Take your definition of hope.  A new mother getting a wonderful ultrasound saying everything is fine?  That’s a sign of hope.  Now say you just got kicked off of a transplant list, your only hope of survival.  Hope is diminished.  Hate.  I two year old hates taking a bath or you hate someone that has hurt you deeply.  Love. I love my husband…now what if you are recently divorced? Or what if you don’t talk to your family?  You may have a different explanation of love.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of that to bring me to this word…TRUST.  Why is it so hard to trust another person?  Which do you believe… people are generally bad but make some good choices in life OR people are generally good but make bad choices in life?  Do people generally lie or do people sometimes lie withdrawing your trust in them?  What is the definition of trust in your mind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the first question…Why is it so hard to trust another person?  I don’t know the answer.  I generally don’t trust people.  This isn’t something I like about myself.  Why don’t I trust people?  I guess I’ve been let down too many times.  Is it smart not too trust people right out of the gates?  Are you supposed to trust them until they give you a reason not too?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I do not trust.  I won’t trust someone that generally talks a lot about other people.  If you talk about everyone in town how am I supposed to believe that you won’t turn around and talk about me to everyone else?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not trust people that “throw me or others under the bus” so to speak.  If you try to make yourself look better by putting someone else down (especially in front of other people) then I generally will not trust you.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I do not trust…  I don’t trust when you confine in someone about something that aggravates you and then they in turn tell someone else.  Like “Hey Sarah, come here, you got to hear this…this just happened to Veronica….and it’s so funny because I was just telling her the same thing happened to you”.   Haha…yeah…great thank you for that (and in your mind you are smashing your head against a wall).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t trust people that are always negative.  Will everything I say to them turn into something negative?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my biggest fear with trust is that it will turn into judgment.  If I peel back the layers of who I really am will you run and tell your friends what a lunatic I am? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of this leads me to this…good friends are hard to find.  I have only a few people that really know all the dirt on me and have not told another person and, frankly they really don’t care because they love me so much it doesn’t matter.  And, I’m so thankful for a forgiving God…because without him…well, what kind of life would that be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-4402584749906120159?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/4402584749906120159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=4402584749906120159' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4402584749906120159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4402584749906120159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/trustjust-another-5-letter-word.html' title='Trust...Just Another 5 Letter Word...'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8336237312510245624</id><published>2007-08-19T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T19:12:57.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>Lucifer, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a great!  Today I went to church and grew closer to God.  Today I discovered a little more about myself.  Today I feel alive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove with my husband with no destination in mind.  We went everywhere and it was wonderful.  The day was perfect and sunny.  The weather God provided was great.  The grass and trees were green and the sky was a wonderful blue.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I spent time with the Youth Group.  I even went down the slip-n-slide a couple of times.  I let my guard down today and let a few new people into my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day ended with Christian songs around a campfire.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today you failed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8336237312510245624?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8336237312510245624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8336237312510245624' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8336237312510245624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8336237312510245624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-6118875387082719290</id><published>2007-08-17T13:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T13:56:39.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Big Dysfunctional Family</title><content type='html'>My job makes me laugh!  I love the people I work with.  It truly is one big dysfunctional family.  We all have different attitudes, quirks, and different sinces of humor…yet…somehow we mesh.  I love randomness!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-6118875387082719290?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/6118875387082719290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=6118875387082719290' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6118875387082719290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/6118875387082719290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-big-dysfunctional-family.html' title='One Big Dysfunctional Family'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-7332611481926694699</id><published>2007-08-15T09:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T09:41:30.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Don't Believe You Anymore!</title><content type='html'>Dearest Lucifer,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am!  I am here face to face and heart to heart.  I have something that I have to tell you.  For years I let you try to dominate me.  For years I let you whisper your seductive lies into my ears.  I let you tell me I was stupid, ugly, worthless, a bad Christian, a bad wife, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend.  I let you belittle me.  I let you tell me lies and I even believed you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me that the trials in life that I faced were because I deserved it.  I deserved them all because I was a bad Christian and I had it coming.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me I couldn’t help with the youth group.  You told me I couldn’t do it because I would fail.  I have only met with them once but I already know you are wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me not to take on the job I have now.  You told me I would fail.  I would be too stupid to handle it.  You were wrong!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me that I couldn’t stay married.  It would be too hard to stay married at my young age.  That the first year would be so hard I would want to quit. I have been married almost 3 years!  You were wrong! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me I couldn’t move in with my mom and dad and take care of them.  I have!  When my mom passed away you told me it was my fault!  I could have helped her more!  I didn’t do enough!  You were wrong!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me I will never be loved.  I am loved by my husband, my family, my friends, my church…again…you were wrong!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You bound me in chains and took the key to the lock.  I believed you and you held me captive for a long time.  Finally, I have trusted in the Lord and he has broken your deadly chains!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get out!  We are over!  I fully belong to God now! I don’t need you!  Goodbye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-7332611481926694699?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/7332611481926694699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=7332611481926694699' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7332611481926694699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/7332611481926694699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-dont-believe-you-anymore.html' title='I Don&apos;t Believe You Anymore!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-4992533734005205968</id><published>2007-08-15T06:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T06:29:22.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Personal DNA Test Results</title><content type='html'>&lt;script src="http://personaldna.com/h/?k=RqpZFTHyugxCnNo-HN-AEDAA-082f&amp;amp;t=Attentive+Creator"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-4992533734005205968?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/4992533734005205968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=4992533734005205968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4992533734005205968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/4992533734005205968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/personal-dna-test-results.html' title='Personal DNA Test Results'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7918762225384357905.post-8939605803358215156</id><published>2007-08-14T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T14:28:41.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lifting the Veil!</title><content type='html'>Here I am writing my first blog.  Something I thought I would never do.  Why?  Because I don’t know if I trust you.  I might unleash some part of me that you don’t like.  I might be too honest.  I might be too blunt.  I may say something you don’t agree with.  I may just cause you to judge me!  Anyways, here I am!  I am smart, funny, displeased with my self, I worry what you think, I don’t read my bible as often as I should, I might contradict myself, I will value your opinions, for more of who I am read these lyrics below….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can kill with a smile&lt;br /&gt;She can wound with her eyes&lt;br /&gt;She can ruin your faith with her casual lies&lt;br /&gt;And she only reveals what she wants you to see&lt;br /&gt;She hides like a child&lt;br /&gt;But she's always a woman to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can lead you to love&lt;br /&gt;She can take you or leave you&lt;br /&gt;She can ask for the truth&lt;br /&gt;But she'll never believe "you"&lt;br /&gt;And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, she steals like a thief&lt;br /&gt;But she's always a woman to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;Oh-she takes care of herself&lt;br /&gt;She can wait if she wants&lt;br /&gt;She's ahead of her time&lt;br /&gt;Oh-and she never gives out&lt;br /&gt;And she never gives in&lt;br /&gt;She just changes her mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she'll promise you more&lt;br /&gt;Than the Garden of Eden&lt;br /&gt;Then she'll carelessly cut you&lt;br /&gt;And laugh while you're bleedin'&lt;br /&gt;But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be&lt;br /&gt;Blame it all on yourself&lt;br /&gt;Cause she's always a woman to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS&lt;br /&gt;She is frequently kind&lt;br /&gt;And she's suddenly cruel&lt;br /&gt;She can do as she pleases&lt;br /&gt;She's nobody's fool&lt;br /&gt;But she can't be convicted&lt;br /&gt;She's earned her degree&lt;br /&gt;And the most she will do&lt;br /&gt;Is throw shadows at you&lt;br /&gt;But she's always a woman to me-Billy Joel/She's Always a Woman to Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just lifted my veil and now that you know who I am will you still love me anyways?&lt;br /&gt; “ make this your common practice : confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed...” - james 5:16&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7918762225384357905-8939605803358215156?l=srittenour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/feeds/8939605803358215156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7918762225384357905&amp;postID=8939605803358215156' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8939605803358215156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7918762225384357905/posts/default/8939605803358215156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://srittenour.blogspot.com/2007/08/lifting-veil.html' title='Lifting the Veil!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05991315694033279984</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://shim1.shutterfly.com/procgserv/47b7d631b3127cce9854835694ff00000027108CcMnLZo3ck'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
