<?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-4905014159527237719</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:27:03.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...consider lilies...</title><subtitle type='html'>Somewhere along the way, God got a hold of us and now we're all weird...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-5901509382230408967</id><published>2009-02-20T13:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T13:51:49.862-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I know every word...</title><content type='html'>Hindsight by John Reuben&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screamed to God out of frustration&lt;br /&gt;After another day of waking and hating the fact&lt;br /&gt;That I’m still where I’m at&lt;br /&gt;What’s the point of all of this&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I’m not seeming to find it&lt;br /&gt;Is it meaningless? I search the reason behind it&lt;br /&gt;Because these moments seem to drag on forever&lt;br /&gt;And these years on end seem to have never been this&lt;br /&gt;Desperation has formed repetition within&lt;br /&gt;Too insecure to pretend and I’m too weak to defend&lt;br /&gt;Here it comes again all in my world again&lt;br /&gt;Left with no direction no beginning no end&lt;br /&gt;The days blend together and the weather never changes&lt;br /&gt;Numb to the outcome but yet not quite painless&lt;br /&gt;Aimless to whether or not I made a mistake&lt;br /&gt;And if so how far is too far before it’s too late&lt;br /&gt;Should I wait but then what would be too long&lt;br /&gt;To reverse the effects if I was wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindsight is a beautiful thing&lt;br /&gt;When you can look back and see what patience and time can bring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a must that I’m here is it a must that I stay&lt;br /&gt;In order to look forward must I look away&lt;br /&gt;We're moving towards a new day&lt;br /&gt;Unsure of what tomorrow will bring our way&lt;br /&gt;I’m not even quite sure of what this day holds&lt;br /&gt;I say we travel the unknown and watch it unfold&lt;br /&gt;Hold today close while still reaching for tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Through the test of time I’ve seen joy overcome sorrow&lt;br /&gt;So with every trial I endure&lt;br /&gt;With hopes to mature into what I was created for&lt;br /&gt;More than life itself I want life itself&lt;br /&gt;Press past the present until forever is felt&lt;br /&gt;And take hold of the hidden mystery&lt;br /&gt;Wide eyed and open I now see differently&lt;br /&gt;If it’s to be then give me the strength to be content&lt;br /&gt;And find peace in knowing one day it will all make sense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning to accept the unexpected&lt;br /&gt;Because the unknown wasn’t here for me to correct it&lt;br /&gt;So I let it go and stopped trying to control the impossible&lt;br /&gt;Simply put tossed in the shuffle&lt;br /&gt;At a young age just like everyone else&lt;br /&gt;So I don’t feel sorry for you or for myself&lt;br /&gt;Love is bigger than that and I’m not below or above&lt;br /&gt;The way it moves even though the things it does&lt;br /&gt;To my train of thought can bring about doubt and uncertainty&lt;br /&gt;Patience tends to not agree with my psyche&lt;br /&gt;That’s more than likely just some pride in me&lt;br /&gt;Fighting expectations of where I think my life should be&lt;br /&gt;Selfishly I forget so quickly&lt;br /&gt;Let me never forget Lord break me in humility&lt;br /&gt;Some sort of amazing grace on me&lt;br /&gt;As I look back upon my life and where You’ve taken me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hear the call peace fall&lt;br /&gt;From trial to triumph I want your hand in it all&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to know where to stand in it all&lt;br /&gt;Life Giver&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-5901509382230408967?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/5901509382230408967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=5901509382230408967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/5901509382230408967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/5901509382230408967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-know-every-word.html' title='I know every word...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-8648210844828953749</id><published>2009-02-13T10:45:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T11:51:34.995-06:00</updated><title type='text'>its been a while...</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged lately. And I should have been, because its ridiculously boring at work and writing is far better than being on facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I don't feel inspired when I want to be. I want to sit here and pour out words to the keyboard and make the reader smile. But not a whole lot of people read this. Just Mark and maybe &lt;a href="http://merelyaspectator.blogspot.com/"&gt;Damaris&lt;/a&gt;.  So I'll just type today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The King blessed me today by letting me wake up again to my wonderful husband. My hair is doing nice things today, and I had some wonderful Bombay Chai with honey and milk. Its a pretty good day. I snuck in to work today wearing jeans, which is nice, because I love jeans. I'm listening to my wonderful husband's band, &lt;a href="http://www.blueconditionmusic.com/"&gt;Blue Condition&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/blueconditiontx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Blue-Condition/19957850209?ref=ts#/pages/Blue-Condition/19957850209?ref=ts"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, too...) and I'm so excited for whats in store for them. Hopefully very big things. Readers, become fans! They're gettin' big!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yes, its the day before Valentine's Day. Its never bothered when I was single like it bothers so many. I do think its a little cheesy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH MY! It is 2 weeks (almost) before our 1 year anniversary!!! WOW! March, 1st, people!! The Father is so gracious. I pray for 80 more years if we can live that long! I love Jeremy so very much, and I'm so proud of this first year! It has been fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, cute pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWns2wY8lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LiCpOLEzm-4/s1600-h/aww.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWns2wY8lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LiCpOLEzm-4/s320/aww.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302328525353185874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This seems very Valentine's-y. Very cute. :) See, affection takes EFFORT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntt1tG1I/AAAAAAAAAGM/yLKijJR-2Nc/s1600-h/tea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 199px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntt1tG1I/AAAAAAAAAGM/yLKijJR-2Nc/s320/tea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302328540139428690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cuppa Tea. My new brew. MUCH healthier than coffee. True story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntVZ8HoI/AAAAAAAAAGE/pspQMtJ_9_Y/s1600-h/mcnaught3_kemppainen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 110px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntVZ8HoI/AAAAAAAAAGE/pspQMtJ_9_Y/s320/mcnaught3_kemppainen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302328533580521090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;OK, I don't remember where I got this picture, but I believe it was taken at an Australian Beach. Left side: fireworks, Right side: Lightening, Middle: Shooting Stars. - God. Is. Amazing. (click on pic for bigger image...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntK7BxyI/AAAAAAAAAF8/KCgZ4eReeDw/s1600-h/bird-sketch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntK7BxyI/AAAAAAAAAF8/KCgZ4eReeDw/s320/bird-sketch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302328530766513954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, I did get this tattoo on my right shoulder blade in red for my Grammy. My mommy got one, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntBLM18I/AAAAAAAAAF0/2OInfed3Ldk/s1600-h/506girls.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWntBLM18I/AAAAAAAAAF0/2OInfed3Ldk/s320/506girls.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302328528149993410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chelsa on her wedding day! The 506 girls!!! Laura, Alison, Chelsa, me and Damaris!!! BEAUTIFUL!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-8648210844828953749?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/8648210844828953749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=8648210844828953749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8648210844828953749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8648210844828953749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-been-while.html' title='its been a while...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SZWns2wY8lI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LiCpOLEzm-4/s72-c/aww.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-1573303917287735005</id><published>2008-12-18T12:11:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T12:39:55.295-06:00</updated><title type='text'>heartache</title><content type='html'>I miss cooking. To the point of tears this very moment. I was just reading &lt;a href="http://linecook415.blogspot.com/"&gt;a blog about a line cook&lt;/a&gt;. Seeing the line, the coats, that special swagger a cook has. Being a part of that team. I miss the rush, the feeling of accomplishment after a very busy day. I even miss the grumpy, dirty minded, hung over chefs that yell at you. I miss being one of the only white girls in the kitchen and still kicking butt. I wanna be there. Knife in hand. Strong arms. Cuts. Burns. Dirty Crocs. Fast chops. Better pizzas than anyone. Yes Chef. Reggae. 86. Toughness. It was cool. And most of all, it was my identity. And I threw away my identity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved so much being a part of that world. I dont know if its just today, but I have been thinking about it a lot lately. But I'm so stubborn that I dont know if I could do it again. I just got so burnt. If I hate it so much, then why is it that every time I go see my husband at work(the &lt;a href="http://www.dmagazine.com/ME2/dirmod.asp?sid=&amp;amp;nm=&amp;amp;type=MultiPublishing&amp;amp;mod=PublishingTitles&amp;amp;mid=7155F7796F354F21B1183937D847D6DF&amp;amp;tier=4&amp;amp;id=817B6767659D4E66944D3EDA91C1E259"&gt;Bistro&lt;/a&gt; where I cooked, where we met) I question what I'm doing. My heart hurts to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love food. Maybe I should just leave it at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SUqXEJi_NRI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Psl61sK7cu4/s1600-h/A+Busy+Restaurant+Kitchen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 216px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SUqXEJi_NRI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Psl61sK7cu4/s400/A+Busy+Restaurant+Kitchen.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281199610583266578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SUqXt6443UI/AAAAAAAAAFc/rBR84ICBGYU/s1600-h/santkedge1-400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SUqXt6443UI/AAAAAAAAAFc/rBR84ICBGYU/s400/santkedge1-400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281200328203099458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Girls can play with knives too :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-1573303917287735005?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/1573303917287735005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=1573303917287735005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/1573303917287735005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/1573303917287735005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/12/heartache.html' title='heartache'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SUqXEJi_NRI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Psl61sK7cu4/s72-c/A+Busy+Restaurant+Kitchen.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-4974709777633282398</id><published>2008-11-20T10:19:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T10:29:31.256-06:00</updated><title type='text'>snow, hey oh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SSWOj6AH6OI/AAAAAAAAAEk/enoQUSh6Znk/s1600-h/microscope-snow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SSWOj6AH6OI/AAAAAAAAAEk/enoQUSh6Znk/s400/microscope-snow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270775686423374050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is snow. Up close and personal snow. Its so amazing to me because when we see snow, hold it in our hands, we don't even realize that its been constructed, molded, formed by the Creator. Look at the intricacy of the Father. A melting masterpiece. Once again, proof that He loves us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-4974709777633282398?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/4974709777633282398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=4974709777633282398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/4974709777633282398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/4974709777633282398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/11/snow-hey-oh.html' title='snow, hey oh!'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SSWOj6AH6OI/AAAAAAAAAEk/enoQUSh6Znk/s72-c/microscope-snow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-7106992612938191698</id><published>2008-11-13T10:19:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T15:36:07.204-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Awe</title><content type='html'>Yesterday me and Jeremy were headed to church in Denison. I was incredibly tired and we were listening to some Chandler on the way. I always pay attention to the sky and yesterdays was like an symphony in the atmosphere. I look to my right, the northeast side of the sky to see a barely there full moon peeking over the horizon. It was so pale, it almost blended in with the sky. But it was HUGE. See, when the moon is at the horizon, it creates the illusion of width. Or closeness, really. The moon is still as far away as it always is, but when it is at the horizon, it seems bigger. So I'm drooling on the window because of God's grace letting me see this, watching it grow brighter and brighter as it ascends the evening sky. And to my left, or southwest-ish side, the sun is setting. I see a sundog, which makes me happy because I know what it is. Its hard to explain, so I wont. Anyway, there were pinks, oranges, blues, whites...all brushstrokes of the King. I was surrounded by His glory. Enough words, now pictures. (Er, not pictures from yesterday, but examples...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SRxXe_cytEI/AAAAAAAAAEM/tAxbup_VE-Q/s1600-h/moon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 165px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SRxXe_cytEI/AAAAAAAAAEM/tAxbup_VE-Q/s320/moon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268181854056526914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is actually what is called 'Harvest Moon'. Not what I saw yesterday EXACTLY, but similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SRxXzl1CMUI/AAAAAAAAAEU/UgI87jEw1ok/s1600-h/sundog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SRxXzl1CMUI/AAAAAAAAAEU/UgI87jEw1ok/s320/sundog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268182207956136258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sundogs are those little bits of rainbow you see when it usually hasn't rained. Its obviously the same effect as a rainbow, but in small form. There is just enough moisture in the clouds in a little spot and the sun is hitting it just the right way, creating a mini rainbow. Speaking of, RAINBOWS, contrary to popular belief, are not a symbol of a certain community, but a symbol of God's promise:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="en-ESV-214" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, &lt;span id="en-ESV-215" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Behold, I establish my covenant with you and your offspring after you, &lt;span id="en-ESV-216" class="sup"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the livestock, and every beast of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark; it is for every beast of the earth. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of the flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth." And God said, "This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh. And the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth." God said to Noah, "This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth." Genesis 9:8-17&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-7106992612938191698?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/7106992612938191698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=7106992612938191698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/7106992612938191698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/7106992612938191698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/11/yesterday-me-and-jeremy-were-headed-to.html' title='Awe'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SRxXe_cytEI/AAAAAAAAAEM/tAxbup_VE-Q/s72-c/moon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-2924067122521895793</id><published>2008-10-24T15:05:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:43:27.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>nothing.</title><content type='html'>I'm not a people person. I cant start conversation. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; look as cool as you. I cant pull off new trends. I really do hate it when you talk over me. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; sent out my wedding thank &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;yous&lt;/span&gt;. I have the lowest self esteem ever. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; think that you like me. I cant be myself cause everyone else is cooler than that. I feel stupid. I cry a lot. I'm sitting here at my desk, wishing I was the sunshine, cause it would make me feel better about who I was. When someone asks me what I do for fun I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;genuinely&lt;/span&gt; cant think of an answer. I always feel like I've failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I know this is just how I'm feeling right now. I'm not completely destressed. Just overwhelmed today. I could definitely spend the rest of my night hiding. But I still wanna be the sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SQIzVxoDFHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_6DGuL1R4AM/s1600-h/sun_rays1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SQIzVxoDFHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_6DGuL1R4AM/s320/sun_rays1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260823763913741426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-2924067122521895793?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/2924067122521895793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=2924067122521895793' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/2924067122521895793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/2924067122521895793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/10/nothing.html' title='nothing.'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SQIzVxoDFHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_6DGuL1R4AM/s72-c/sun_rays1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-3460260044011663525</id><published>2008-10-23T11:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T11:28:44.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary</title><content type='html'>Today Jesus and I are celebrating our 8 year anniversary. Its been easier for Him than it has for me. Sometimes I forget that we are together and find myself wandering hopelessly. But then He finds me, forgives me and loves me still. Its been a hard yet wonderful 8 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SQCmCOc2pKI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OASTuBReTVM/s1600-h/AmazingGrace1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SQCmCOc2pKI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OASTuBReTVM/s320/AmazingGrace1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260386921937806498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-3460260044011663525?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/3460260044011663525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=3460260044011663525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3460260044011663525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3460260044011663525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/10/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SQCmCOc2pKI/AAAAAAAAAD0/OASTuBReTVM/s72-c/AmazingGrace1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-3431517609289550316</id><published>2008-10-22T13:09:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T13:16:26.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>still not...</title><content type='html'>Ok. We're not ok. I'm  not ok. We've been missing church for a long time cause of gas prices. I miss the family. I hate it. Our schedule is all messed up. I just wish I could be at 'that place' but 'that place' will never come if I dont try. If I dont come to His feet and give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know what to do. I get so distracted by the day and we just sit on the couch and watch movies. We have so many shows, we cant go to church on Saturday nights. I miss my girls. I miss the Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go drink some tea. And ponder the King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SP9t69skzVI/AAAAAAAAADs/gOiEbvVLabA/s1600-h/tea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SP9t69skzVI/AAAAAAAAADs/gOiEbvVLabA/s320/tea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260043749553392978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-3431517609289550316?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/3431517609289550316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=3431517609289550316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3431517609289550316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3431517609289550316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/10/still-not.html' title='still not...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SP9t69skzVI/AAAAAAAAADs/gOiEbvVLabA/s72-c/tea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-2815538899587400110</id><published>2008-09-29T11:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T11:30:12.395-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slowly...</title><content type='html'>Coming back to His feet. Slowly understanding His grace. No song lyrics today, just thoughts. Just me and the Father. I feel like all that has been happening is undeserved, like He's hinting to me that He's still got it all in His hands and will bless even if to get my attention. I praise Him. For Jeremy being ok from his wreck. For letting the band do good things. For letting me feel better. For getting our money situation in line. And I ask His forgiveness for not thanking Him until now. Praise Him for the family that we need and for the grace we need more. Praise Him for the earthly man of mine who helps me be a better person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My King, help me to breathe. You supply the breath. Praise you, Savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SOECfcuwu-I/AAAAAAAAADk/hk_ECUAlUMc/s1600-h/breathe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SOECfcuwu-I/AAAAAAAAADk/hk_ECUAlUMc/s320/breathe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251481379802233826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-2815538899587400110?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/2815538899587400110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=2815538899587400110' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/2815538899587400110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/2815538899587400110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/09/slowly.html' title='Slowly...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SOECfcuwu-I/AAAAAAAAADk/hk_ECUAlUMc/s72-c/breathe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-5472466033708878857</id><published>2008-09-08T13:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T13:59:30.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Recently...</title><content type='html'>Miserable Exaggeration by John Reuben&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inconsistent my feeling change quicker than&lt;br /&gt;I can get the words out&lt;br /&gt;And tell you what I’m thinking&lt;br /&gt;Inconsistent I don’t have much grace or patience&lt;br /&gt;I hold this grudge and my tongue no further statements&lt;br /&gt;It plays out in my mind&lt;br /&gt;All the lost words I could have used to describe&lt;br /&gt;And even though it’s left such a bad taste in my mouth&lt;br /&gt;I guess I’d rather swallow my pride than spit it out &lt;br /&gt;Failure cuts the spirit to hear&lt;br /&gt;That’s why I have to let my pride interfere&lt;br /&gt;I’ll take it from there&lt;br /&gt;If you see me acting differently&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry&lt;br /&gt;That’s just me dialoging with me internally&lt;br /&gt;About the hypothetical over-analytical&lt;br /&gt;Still what do I know&lt;br /&gt;Central Ohio’s grey skies provide a lot of time to be stuck inside&lt;br /&gt;Close the world out&lt;br /&gt;Introvert's paradise&lt;br /&gt;It’s that wishy washy topsy turvy monotony&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been here before both emotionally and logically&lt;br /&gt;You know that you know until the wind blows&lt;br /&gt;It’s as easy as no and as hard as no&lt;br /&gt;People-pleasers never win&lt;br /&gt;Spread yourself too thin&lt;br /&gt;It’s best to just do what you feel in the end&lt;br /&gt;But you’ll change how you feel for the sake of the truth&lt;br /&gt;When the world you’re living in becomes bigger than you &lt;div&gt;What a miserable exaggeration &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happier said than done &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a wasted conversation &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my head everyone was interested &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone was listening &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-5472466033708878857?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/5472466033708878857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=5472466033708878857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/5472466033708878857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/5472466033708878857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/09/recently.html' title='Recently...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-2125005367071204940</id><published>2008-09-04T08:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T08:31:26.038-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragile: Handle with care</title><content type='html'>Jeremy was in a wreck. Here's the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:15 am - early wednesday morning.so i'm driving home from playing cards with j-mak. i'm going north on 75 and there's hardly anyone else on the road. i'm in the left lane and there's an 18 wheeler a few hundred feet ahead of me, one lane over. no big deal. i'm going about 5 mph faster than he is, so i'll be passing him in a few seconds. no one else around that i can tell.then this dark streak comes whizzing by on the right, passing in front of me and heading into my lane. some guy on a motorcycle, easily going over 100 mph. he's trying to dart behind this rig into my lane, and he's going crazy fast. well he doesn't cut fast enough. his bike slams into the back of the 18 wheeler, right on the left rear tire and his bike just explodes into pieces. as soon as he hits the truck, its like a grenade went off. a ball of smoke and debris. pieces start flying to the left, into my lane, cuz of the angle he was taking. i'm going 70 mph and dodging pieces of this guy's bike in the left lane while trying to avoid hitting the truck on my right and the center wall on my left.eventually i see whats left of his bike hit the ground in front of my car, and its just a charred shell of a motorcycle by now. the rider is nowhere in site, and for all i know i'd already run him over amidst all the chaos. the bike bounces off the pavement and lands on the hood of my car, right above my right headlight and bounces off again, coming to rest in the 2nd left lane and just burning like rubble. oil from the bike sprayed all over my windshield, a clear/green color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=684417&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=37772672316&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=37772672316&amp;amp;id=506654700"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is what your car looks like after a motorcycle falls on it out of the sky.&lt;br /&gt;i finally get a hold of my car's steering again (i'd been swerving all over the left lane and the median) and pull off to the side, and i'm just shocked. i've never seen anything like this. it was like those crashes you see on insane tv shows. the speed this guy was moving at, it looked like a rocket had been launched at the truck. i knew as soon as it happened he was gone. there's no way he was gonna survive. people behind us said they found him about 300 feet from where his bike landed, next to the median, almost impossible to see from the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=684420&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=37772672316&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=37772672316&amp;amp;id=506654700"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eventually my battery went dead from the impact. my flashers went out and i couldn't start my car, even to roll my window up.&lt;br /&gt;well i got to spend the next 3 hours out there talking to police and getting my car towed home. i was tired, i was starving, my adrenaline was kicked in and i felt shaky in my legs. its hard to believe it still happened. my words don't do the crash any justice at all. it was just one of the most unbelieveable sights i have ever seen.... ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=684480&amp;amp;op=1&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;subj=37772672316&amp;amp;aid=-1&amp;amp;oid=37772672316&amp;amp;id=506654700"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few feet more and that bike would have been riding shot gun.&lt;br /&gt;the thing i still feel pretty bad about is i never heard anything about the rider. i knew he was dead as soon as it happened, he had to be. but i never found out his name or anything about him. and no one will know what he was thinking when it happened or why he was doing it. its sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-2125005367071204940?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/2125005367071204940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=2125005367071204940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/2125005367071204940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/2125005367071204940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/09/fragile-handle-with-care.html' title='Fragile: Handle with care'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-9097764906862117763</id><published>2008-08-24T10:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T10:55:18.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>two today...</title><content type='html'>I really dont know what I'm wanting to write about today. I'm grumpy today and its making me remember my depravity. The day is fine, I feel ok. But I also feel like I could punch a baby. I wont. There arent any around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish I could enjoy the weather and sunshine today and not feel trapped in the hotel and angry when I leave that I was there so long. I want to work out after work but I know I'm not going to feel like it later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-9097764906862117763?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/9097764906862117763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=9097764906862117763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/9097764906862117763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/9097764906862117763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/08/two-today.html' title='two today...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-3901951414104237890</id><published>2008-08-24T10:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T10:45:51.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*sigh*</title><content type='html'>Lyrics to Bad Days Better by Shane and Shane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have made my day&lt;br /&gt;Even in stormy weather&lt;br /&gt;I’m dancing in all the rain&lt;br /&gt;Cause you make bad days…&lt;br /&gt;Great is the way&lt;br /&gt;When you come to mind&lt;br /&gt;I am smiling ear to ear&lt;br /&gt;Sweet thoughts of you&lt;br /&gt;I’m always in the mood&lt;br /&gt;To twirl around with you&lt;br /&gt;While it’s raining&lt;br /&gt;Even if it’s a dream&lt;br /&gt;Great is the way&lt;br /&gt;That I am unafraid&lt;br /&gt;When I see you&lt;br /&gt;All my fear goes away&lt;br /&gt;Bad days are coming&lt;br /&gt;Rainy days are always around&lt;br /&gt;But if I can see you&lt;br /&gt;One glance upon you&lt;br /&gt;The sun comes out&lt;br /&gt;I’m dancing in all the rain&lt;br /&gt;Cause you make bad days better&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-3901951414104237890?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/3901951414104237890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=3901951414104237890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3901951414104237890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3901951414104237890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/08/sigh.html' title='*sigh*'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-8629579613942205197</id><published>2008-08-01T07:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T08:32:01.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The sky</title><content type='html'>Every morning if I wake up on time, I can see the Father's beautiful creations in the atmosphere. The pink and yawning clouds, glowing with the morning sun. I try not to swerve as I stare at the bright white and silver masses greeting me. Its so beautiful. And this morning, there was just enough haze over the sun that I could stare right at it, big, orange and perfect. It reminded me of its noctural better half glowing like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of, I dont know if I like day or night better. Dusk and dawn are definitely some of the most beautiful things in the world, but I could stare at the stars forever. If there's any one thing that makes me doubt and understand God's might and glory at the same time, its the night sky. The constellations amaze me because the image we see is hundreds, thousands, if not billions of years old. The galaxies, the moons, the planets, it all is a small glimse of His character. To make things that gigantic and perplex that we are barely scratching the surface of figuring out how and why they are there. The sky, the universe stirs my heart and my affections for my King. Oh how I long for Him when I see His beautiful atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light upon the earth." And it was so. - Genesis 1:14,15&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-8629579613942205197?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/8629579613942205197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=8629579613942205197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8629579613942205197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8629579613942205197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/08/sky.html' title='The sky'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-3766261184581538069</id><published>2008-07-26T13:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T13:23:00.589-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nickels and tears</title><content type='html'>There is this place in my heart that is a little tattered. It started when I was little, even though I didnt realize it was happening. He was distant and awkward. When he was sort of sober, we would laugh and watch Saturday Night Live and eat crab legs. I tried to stay away when he wasnt sober. My mom finally made the decision to stay away for good and we moved out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never bitter until then. I never knew how much it was hurting until it wasnt there. I was never bitter about the divorce. Because I knew that was necessary for my mother's sanity. Father's Day made me bitter. Stories of father/daughter dates made me bitter. Because I never knew what that was like and I never will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's sick. He's 400 miles away and I havent seen or talked to him since the wedding. But I'm ok with the distance. And I'm ok with not communicating with him. Its not like we dont know where each other are and its not like we dont care. Its just how things are.  Do I wish it were different? Do I wish I could know him like some of my girlfriends know their dads? Sure. And I think he does too. But I'm ok with it not being ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about him a lot. Every time I see a nickel I think of him. There is a 1951 nickel on my sidetable right now because of him. I love my dad. I hope he knows that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-3766261184581538069?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/3766261184581538069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=3766261184581538069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3766261184581538069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3766261184581538069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/07/nickels-and-tears.html' title='Nickels and tears'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-7362995488533476810</id><published>2008-07-15T13:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T13:53:22.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Convenience and Freedom</title><content type='html'>We are having to sell my car because we need to be using that money to pay other bills. I hate it because its more than just a way of transportation and convenience to me. My car is where I can be alone and quiet and it has taken me a long time to be able to get my own car. My OWN car. And it was new and it was a fight to get it because my uncle and my grandad were telling me over and over that I wouldnt be able to do it. So I'm sad. Its just more of my independence being taken from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-7362995488533476810?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/7362995488533476810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=7362995488533476810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/7362995488533476810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/7362995488533476810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/07/convenience-and-freedom.html' title='Convenience and Freedom'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-100064994534527786</id><published>2008-07-11T09:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T09:48:16.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is integrity?</title><content type='html'>I think that the Father is teaching me something different right now. I've never been a generally bad person. And I know that in relation to the Kingdom, "good" and "bad" dont really hold much weight. When I was little I never stole or cussed or purposfully disobeyed my mom mainly because I hated that rotten feeling that your soul gets after doing bad things. And even now I really cant just go about being unnecessarily evil. However, I've happened along some personal shortcomings that are keeping my spirit uneasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mainly at work. I've adapted this secretive dishonesty. Lying about sickness a little too much. Taking candy or food without paying for it. I'm usually ok for a while, then I come to realize that I've been doing things that are not only contradictory to my personality but the integrity of the Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do know that having your sin being pointed out in public is one way for a person to realize that they need to stop. I havent really been accused openly by anyone but myself and most certainly the Holy Spirit. My friend D is good at letting me know every once in a while that I'm short-changing my faith. I appreciate that. Humbleness, I believe, is the stitches that help heal the wound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, integrity. The word, like so many, stirs up not only some tattoo inspiration, but stirs in me the wanting to be not a "good" person but a morally aware, Kingdom-minded person. I hope that Christ can further stir in me the will to persue this and not let my shortcomings defy my faith. I do praise Him for the grace to let me realize that I need Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-100064994534527786?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/100064994534527786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=100064994534527786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/100064994534527786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/100064994534527786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-is-integrity.html' title='What is integrity?'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-3175731847529101095</id><published>2008-07-05T12:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T12:30:27.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Root of all evil...</title><content type='html'>So money is a problem right now. And I hate it because its stressing me out. I dont know how we got this far behind. I feel like my mother when dealing with money issues. I dont want me and Jeremy to be in debt really bad. I want us to be able to pay for stuff. I'd rather us be able to pay for the things we need to and not be able to get nice things than not even be able to buy groceries like right now. But I trust You, King. Help us to trust you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, my eyes hurt...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-3175731847529101095?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/3175731847529101095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=3175731847529101095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3175731847529101095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/3175731847529101095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/07/root-of-all-evil.html' title='Root of all evil...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-1957264813076187195</id><published>2008-06-28T09:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T09:49:27.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunny mornings</title><content type='html'>There is a group in the hotel right now attending the Luis Palau Celebrate Freedom conferences. Its frustrating sometimes to have to deal with other Christians. I dont really know why. But I think God was trying to get my attention today. A boy came up and asked to borrow a pen. He had his bible out and was writing something. Now in my world, seeing bibles out and people writing in them or in a joural is no new thing. But maybe it was the way the sun was so bright at that moment or just seeing the bible at work. It just made my heart break for myself. That sounds selfish. Because as a Christian I should be breaking for others. But I know that the condition of my soul isnt what it should be. I dont know what it was in that moment that made me want to try harder, to live on purpose and to persue the Father. I want to. My heart yearns to. I know that its not an automatic feeling to have zeal for the King. It has to be worked on, it has to be conditioned. Sweet Jesus, stir my affections.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-1957264813076187195?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/1957264813076187195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=1957264813076187195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/1957264813076187195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/1957264813076187195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/06/sunny-mornings.html' title='Sunny mornings'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-5551825255727320935</id><published>2008-06-27T08:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T08:46:59.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Words of a liar</title><content type='html'>This song is called "Embracing Accusation" by Shane and Shane. Its beautiful to read just the words, but of course, without the music you dont get the full Shane and Shane effect. So read it and ponder, then buy the CD and be amazed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father of lies&lt;br /&gt;Coming to steal&lt;br /&gt;Kill and destroy&lt;br /&gt;All my hopes of being good enough&lt;br /&gt;I hear him saying cursed are the ones&lt;br /&gt;Who can’t abide&lt;br /&gt;He’s right&lt;br /&gt;Alleluia he’s right!&lt;br /&gt;The devil is preaching&lt;br /&gt;The song of the redeemed&lt;br /&gt;That I am cursed and gone astray&lt;br /&gt;I cannot gain salvation&lt;br /&gt;Embracing accusation&lt;br /&gt;Could the father of lies&lt;br /&gt;Be telling the truth&lt;br /&gt;Of God to me tonight?&lt;br /&gt;If the penalty of sin is death&lt;br /&gt;Then death is mine&lt;br /&gt;I hear him saying cursed are the ones&lt;br /&gt;Who can’t abide&lt;br /&gt;He’s right&lt;br /&gt;Alleluia he’s right!&lt;br /&gt;Oh the devil’s singing over me&lt;br /&gt;An age old song&lt;br /&gt;That I am cursed and gone astray&lt;br /&gt;Singing the first verse so conveniently&lt;br /&gt;He’s forgotten the refrain&lt;br /&gt;Jesus saves!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-5551825255727320935?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/5551825255727320935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=5551825255727320935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/5551825255727320935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/5551825255727320935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/06/words-of-liar.html' title='Words of a liar'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-8888136029758065370</id><published>2008-06-14T08:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T09:11:01.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding my breath</title><content type='html'>I'm having a hard time with patience. Or maybe I'm just being stubborn and lazy. I'm at work and I'm getting frustrated with all the calls and people wanting cheaper rates and having to even be here. I want more money, but less work. Yes. Stubborn, selfish sin. So I guess the question now would be am I going to do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to breathe. Days like today make me feel like I just need to go and hide. I want to leave early today. But I know I shouldnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...And theres the phone again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Father I cant handle these people today. Please help me get to 3 o'clock. 6 hours...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-8888136029758065370?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/8888136029758065370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=8888136029758065370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8888136029758065370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8888136029758065370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/06/holding-my-breath.html' title='Holding my breath'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-7906242863331492877</id><published>2008-06-11T14:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:32:53.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clouds</title><content type='html'>I was reading today about an Austrian father who had been keeping half of his family captive in the basement, not letting them see the light of day. The other half of the family, including his wife and children had no idea of the happenings in the basement. Its an incredibly sad story. The father had an ongoing incestuous relationship with his daughter who mothered 7 of their children. Finally, one of the oldest, Kirsten, got sick and had to be taken to the hospital. To make a long story very short, the father is in prison and the family is slowly healing. But what I read today made me know that God does what pleases Him and He will reveal Himself in situations that seem hopeless. The girl, Kirsten, after waking up from an artifical coma and finally being exposed to the outside world, would get excited about the normal things we see everyday. Doctors said that a cloud passing by made her giddy. Hearing a certain song that she had never heard before made the girl so excited that she eventually had to be forced to sit still. So in lue of the horrendous situations the captives had faced, their "father" in jail and the mass confusion with the relationships created, the girl still could find joy in the little things. It made me realize how we take such liberties as clouds or music for granted. Perhaps the Father places the little things around so that we can see and remember His glory, grace and love. I dont think we have to be depraved to see them either. Maybe the pain and hurt that we feel are His way of making us see the things that He lavishes us with every day. Praise Him for the clouds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-7906242863331492877?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/7906242863331492877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=7906242863331492877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/7906242863331492877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/7906242863331492877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/06/clouds.html' title='Clouds'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-390674115958137949</id><published>2008-06-10T07:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T08:26:47.107-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One year...</title><content type='html'>So its been a year since I met the family. And its been a year since I've written anything. I guess because I've been too busy living with 5 girls, quitting jobs, quitting school and planning a wedding. A lot has happened in a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll recap. I moved in with Chelsa, Damaris and Laura at the 506. Things got messy quick 'cause 4 girls living together can create, or rather merge, all the clutter. And it was only a 2 bedroom apartment. But it was amazing. Then Alison moved in. She's Damaris' friend from Belton/Temple. And later in the year, the girls kidnapped Natasha and she moved in, too. So 6 girls in a 2 bedroom apartment. Talk about living in community. The boys, Jacob, Derek and Trousey, lived down the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont believe I have enough time to go through all that happened. We took in a stray named Ashley and that lead to me owing almost $1000 to my old apartment. From various hospital visits to engagements, to not having jobs and finally having new jobs. The Father has taken us through so much, it seems like we could all write a book. And we all know He's not done yet. Cause He's still working and we're still trying to listen and love. And through all the tears and laughter, I know that we'd never take any of it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now for me and Jeremy. Its definitely been a fast year. So shortly after breaking off a year and a half long, spiritually damaging relationship with a non-believer, Jeremy and I went back and fourth with dating. I just wasnt sure or wasnt ready for a little bit before I knew I wanted to be with him. That was in June. We got engaged in September and married in March. I know it seems very quick, but I know it couldnt have happened any other way. The Father worked through that bad relationship to create this unbelievable experience with a family of believers that I coudnt have even known how to ask for. I praise Him for doing what he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that all is ok. Life gets you weird sometimes. And not necessarily in the way you'd like. Its the weirdest thing in the world to go through depression when you never have before. Because before it actually happens, you dont really believe in it. You just kinda think it happens to people who are either really messed up or have lost all they have. But me? I'm here with an amazing group of friends, the best husband in the world and still I am crying uncontrollably, day after day. I didnt understand it. There was no reason for it. Either stress or subconciously not being able to deal with various things. I was scared in my own house. Terrified at night when we went to bed and scared to death in the morning when I woke up for work. Constantly doubting Jeremy's love for me. I hate it sometimes that I have to be on pills now to be not scared and to not cry so much. Damaris says that one day I dont have to be. That I'll be able to trust Him more than I do and it will be easier to deal with life. I also hate it that it has become hard for me to trust the Father, after all that has happened in the past year. I'll continue writing, and we'll see what the next year brings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-390674115958137949?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/390674115958137949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=390674115958137949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/390674115958137949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/390674115958137949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2008/06/one-year.html' title='One year...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-8512610694062667419</id><published>2007-06-28T14:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T06:59:56.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Apartments, Cars, Hearts</title><content type='html'>This blog was going to be about how we trust each other with everything. It was going to talk about how everything, including cars, is happily handed over to the next person. But it has been a while since I've written and a lot has happened. Not to say that it isnt still the case, that as a Family we give over everything, dying to self for our brother. Because its even greater now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We encountered a visitor over the past week. A girl has been staying with us (the girls) since Sunday because she got kicked out of her apartment. She's different, describing herself as a Wiccan and a stubborn ox. She made herself 'at home' very quickly. Its been really hard. We all joke and say with a yawn "Its emotionally draining in here..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family, this is a battle. Because we know its obedience but at the same time we feel like we want to wash our hands of this. God brought us this girl to teach us something. We are still trying to figure that out. If its patience, we're going to have lots of it. If its to be able to show love to non-believers, we'll be able to. If its for our own shortcomings to be revealed then, God show us! This is so hard, but God is so good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-8512610694062667419?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/8512610694062667419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=8512610694062667419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8512610694062667419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8512610694062667419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2007/06/apartments-cars-hearts.html' title='Apartments, Cars, Hearts'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-8198252383209154152</id><published>2007-05-13T22:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T13:24:39.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Four and a Half Laughs</title><content type='html'>I have the absolute best friends in the whole wide world. We laugh four and a half times at cell phones being eaten. And we celebrate the even times, like 11:02. Jesus Christ is the reason for our joy. Even if it is weird. Read the headliner. Somewhere along the way, Jesus got a hold of us and now we're all weird. I wouldnt have it any other way. PRAISE GOD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-8198252383209154152?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/8198252383209154152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=8198252383209154152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8198252383209154152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/8198252383209154152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2007/05/four-and-half-laughs.html' title='Four and a Half Laughs'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-730689403767449957</id><published>2007-05-08T18:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T10:48:44.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hotdog Buns and Tap Water</title><content type='html'>Sound delicious? It was better than you think. We were all worshiping and singing and praying when the decision was made to take communion. And all we had was hotdog buns and tap water. It was the most makeshift time of worship I've ever had. God is so good to let us do the silly things in a serious way. It was awesome...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-730689403767449957?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/730689403767449957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=730689403767449957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/730689403767449957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/730689403767449957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2007/05/hotdog-buns-and-tap-water.html' title='Hotdog Buns and Tap Water'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905014159527237719.post-4896730295912808017</id><published>2007-04-29T22:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T10:49:06.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Becoming who we are...</title><content type='html'>As humans we need interaction with other humans. Iron sharpens iron just as we sharpen each other in the faith. Its a necessity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a family. They're not related by blood or marriage or anything else that can join you as an earthly family. I have a family of believers, my brothers and sisters in Christ. God has joined us as believers to live life together. And its amazing. This passion that we all share is Love. It binds us. It creates in our souls a need for God and a need for one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I'm telling you all of this is because about a week ago I had no friends. No real friends that are encouraging and will hold me accountable for my actions. A week ago I was also in a relationship that was becoming disasterous to my soul. And within one week that all changed. I broke off the relationship. And when I did I felt this burden lifted and this freedom landed on my heart. And a friend from work invited me with him to hang out with his group, his family. And we worshiped. And prayed, and cried, and fellowshipped. My heart told me that this was where I was meant to be. Not just in the physical place inside of an apartment but the place inside my heart where I found all of that joy. God was calling me back to His feet. And I came running...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4905014159527237719-4896730295912808017?l=considerlilies2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/feeds/4896730295912808017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4905014159527237719&amp;postID=4896730295912808017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/4896730295912808017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4905014159527237719/posts/default/4896730295912808017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://considerlilies2.blogspot.com/2007/04/becoming-who-we-are.html' title='Becoming who we are...'/><author><name>Tara  Bergthold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09661432276395428632</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_z8MqOtgl8CU/SGZRjODeE8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/c9bXGnRQ3vs/S220/tara.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
