<?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-117850063635837085</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:44:29.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Praxis</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>30</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-3997561005954773597</id><published>2009-10-22T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T14:15:41.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth.</title><content type='html'>It's funny that a great deal of suffering can bring about deep, lasting, unshakable joy.  It's funny that death to self is life, and life abundantly.  It's funny that war somewhere ensures peace elsewhere. It's funny that hope is birthed out of the depths of tribulation. Emptiness and fullness, gathering and scattering, slavery and freedom, on and on and on.  It's funny, the incredible paradoxes that are life in the Kingdom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-3997561005954773597?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/3997561005954773597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=3997561005954773597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3997561005954773597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3997561005954773597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2009/10/truth.html' title='Truth.'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-8406699417626216459</id><published>2009-08-29T08:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T08:46:55.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contrary to popular belief...</title><content type='html'>...I'm still alive.  Friends, it's been a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I have for today is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Miss Heather Sullivan,&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;     I have joy to greet you in the name of the Lord Jesus.  I am fine and getting on well with my holiday of four weeks.  I am getting on well with tuition there at school.  My family is happy that you are communicating well with me your son, and God bless you so much.  Pray for me and I will pray for you.  Read Bible in Jeremiah 33:3.  Thank you so much.  Yours in love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremiah 33:3 says "Call to me, and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a letter from Abdallah Shabani Kulule, an 11 yr. old from Tanzania that I've sponsored through Compassion Int'l for four years now.  His letters are usually very long and include stories of soccer matches, his sisters, and schooling.  This one just sounds so grown up.  "Pray for me, and I will pray for you.  Read Bible in Jeremiah 33:3."  God is so good, and so providential, that He would use a young boy, &lt;em&gt;half the world away&lt;/em&gt;, to bring me a timely word of encouragement.  My heart is full of worship.  How good is our God?!  I can't wait to write him back...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-8406699417626216459?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/8406699417626216459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=8406699417626216459' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8406699417626216459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8406699417626216459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2009/08/contrary-to-popular-belief.html' title='Contrary to popular belief...'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-8427189762174159617</id><published>2009-01-28T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:50:21.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cabin Fever</title><content type='html'>Yes.  Today I got out and burned a whole tank of gas (you're welcome environment) because today is the first day I could drive more than 15 mph on most roads.  Two days of barely leaving my house is oh-so difficult for me.  I baked, I read, I texted, I was on facebook way too much, and I read some more.  Now I'm blah-ging some randomness.  The very first entry in my current journal is from August 22nd, 2007.  Here it is.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Intro to twentysomething.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought this journal a week or two ago, and I've been waiting for just the right thought to enter my mind, sink to my heart, a verbalize through penwork.  It seems that in the midst of my waiting, I've had a few pretty decent thoughts come through, and I've done my best to retain them, but nothing worthy of the first page of this beautiful new journal I'm writing in.  I wanted my first words to be as exquisite and treasured as the decorated pages on which I write.  But the truth is, all of it is beautiful, even the messy stuff.  Especially the messy stuff.  I know right where stuff is in my mess.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And at three months and nine days to 20, life is a little messy.  With college and career and love and loss and bills and wisdom bits, I'm thrown into life and deciphering through what I've heard, learned, and observed, and I'm expected to figure out who I am and where I'm going.  It's an impossible task if you ask me, but unavoidable.  So here it is, here's what I think and what I know and what I hope will be true.  Here's the wisdom I've been given by others, even if they don't believe it's profound, and even when they didn't know they were giving it.  Its a melange of something I'm making into life, and sharing with you, reader.  I invite you to dive into my twentysomething."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Weird, but I do write journals as if they'll be read one day, and almost in book form.  Sometimes I even write letters to grandchildren, especially of things I consider history, or of incredible ways God is moving me.  So here's my pearl of the day:  Write your life down, Christian.  It'll be worth reading about someday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-8427189762174159617?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/8427189762174159617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=8427189762174159617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8427189762174159617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8427189762174159617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2009/01/cabin-fever.html' title='Cabin Fever'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-3164015621064447196</id><published>2008-12-21T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T14:14:14.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Battle</title><content type='html'>If there is one biblical truth I contend with the most, it is this: "...being confident in this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."  I have, many nights, wrestled here.  This is one of those nights.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where Paul is confident, I am not.  But Paul... I mean come on.  If Paul were around today, he'd be scaling Mt. Everest with a big velvet "P" on his pecs and his cape flapping in the wind, all the while preaching and proclaiming the gospel.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No friends, I wrestle here, and I'm stubborn.  I mean really, really stubborn.  But contending with me is no match for a sovereign God.  Times like this are as frustrating as they are beautiful.  Chapter 2 of Hosea is on my heart; it is my favorite chapter in all of Scripture.  Verse 14 breaks my hard heart every time, and I am overwhelmed.  I suppose tonight will end with a little rest in those words.  All things are His.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-3164015621064447196?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/3164015621064447196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=3164015621064447196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3164015621064447196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3164015621064447196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/12/battle.html' title='Battle'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-8990685016453535279</id><published>2008-12-01T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T21:27:48.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Arrival</title><content type='html'>This post will be entirely dedicated to my love for the month of December, and in particular today, the pinnacle day of every year, which is December 1st.  I am perhaps slightly biased, since it is my birthday, but nonetheless, December 1st is epic.  If you don't share my sentiments, let me sway you with this entry.&lt;div&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things I remember learning in school about December 1st:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*December 1st was the day Abraham Lincoln gave his famous &lt;a href="http://www.infoplease.com/t/hist/state-of-the-union/74.html"&gt;State of the Union&lt;/a&gt; address ("Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history.  We of this Congress and this Administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves... We say we are for the Union; the world will not forget that we say this.")&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*December 1st was the day that Rosa Parks was arrested in Montgomery, Alabama, an event leading to the Montgomery Bus Boycott.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*While sitting in Mrs. Scofield's 5th grade class in 1998, our principal interrupted class to talk about Exxon's acquisition of Mobil, thus creating Exxon-Mobil, the world's largest company.  Why talk about it to a bunch of cup-cake-faced 5th grader's, I have no idea, but it wasted an additional 20 minutes of class, so we were all for it.  (On a side note, why was it that you always supplied birthday fun for the whole class when it was &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; birthday?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Not really from school, but more from my friend Constantin Bosancianu of Romania, today is Romania's national day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*From one of my bioengineering prof's in Fayetteville; today is World Aids Day.  We learned a little about the genetic tendencies of the virus, and we are, so I'm led to believe, within ten years of finding a prevention for AIDS (not curing or reversing, but developing immunizations.)  Apparently AIDS was officially recognized on December 1st, 1988.  &lt;a href="http://www.starbucks.com/"&gt;Starbucks&lt;/a&gt; has chosen to highlight this, so get a cup of coffee every day for the entirety of December.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Nine of my twenty-one December 1st's have marked the first snow of the year, and four of them have actually been snow-days, which is great when you're a kid, and even greater your freshman year of college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Today is also the birthday of the brilliant N.T. Wright.  Hm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes friends, today is December 1st, 2008.  Today is my 21st birthday, and today, I have been baptized for 6 years.  Like I said, today is epic.  So let's relish together in the greatness of December, particularly this day, the pinnacle day of every year.  Convinced?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-8990685016453535279?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/8990685016453535279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=8990685016453535279' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8990685016453535279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8990685016453535279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/12/arrival.html' title='Arrival'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-6385381393179416767</id><published>2008-11-22T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T10:01:02.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Frost.  Okay, he's not really a doctor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...But his words felt like a remedy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is a nook among the alders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Still sleeping in the catbird's hush.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Below, a long stone-bridge is bending&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Above the runnel's silent rush.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A dreamer hither often wanders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And gathers many a snow-white stone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He weighs them, poised upon his finger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Divin'ng each one's silv'ry tone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He drops them!  When the stream makes music&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fair visions with it's vault voiced-swell,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And so, for us, the future rises,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And thought-stones stir our hearts farewell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;-Robert Frost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took an AP lit class my senior year, and towards the end (with graduation fast approaching), we had an assignment in which we were to pick a poet, delve into their work, and find a short, concise masterpiece to present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a complete nerd, so stuff like this is tremendously enjoyable.  What's interesting to me two years later is not the paper I wrote (and recently found, which is why I'm taking this to blog world), but the process I went through, which comes back so vividly.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With this sample, I did the glad work of breaking it apart, analyzing it, taking it on rabbit trails, testing it's malleability, stretching it, hating it (after I plateaued), wadding it up and throwing it out completely, picking it up again sometime later, smoothing it out, listing all the points of application, coming to great resolve, and then writing about the process. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interesting because one, I can now articulate that process, and two, because I am completely ridiculous.  I do this with just about everything.  Situations and stories are always 20-step mental processes for me.  My goal isn't to get over it, mostly because I don't think I can... it's how I'm wired.  But rather my goal is to be far&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; less&lt;/span&gt; ridiculous in the future. :)   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see a 10-step process on the horizon...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-6385381393179416767?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/6385381393179416767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=6385381393179416767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/6385381393179416767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/6385381393179416767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/11/dr-frost-okay-hes-not-really-doctor.html' title='Dr. Frost.  Okay, he&apos;s not really a doctor...'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-3939992039642197163</id><published>2008-11-11T07:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T07:39:30.272-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lo!  Tis found!</title><content type='html'>I FOUND MY JOURNAL!  So for those of you that have been keeping up, that doesn't mean I get to quit my stupid art journaling.  But it does mean that I am totally looking forward to the glorious cramped hand I'm sure I will have this afternoon.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other than that, I have nothing great for today.  So like the champ I am, when I have nothing to offer, I'll do the glad work of redirecting you to someone who has great things to say.  Check out &lt;a href="http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/2008/11/436-arguing-about-giving-from-gross-or.html"&gt;Stuff Christians Like.&lt;/a&gt;  Usually full of hilariousness, but today, something great.  Go ahead, see for yourself.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-3939992039642197163?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/3939992039642197163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=3939992039642197163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3939992039642197163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3939992039642197163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/11/lo-tis-found.html' title='Lo!  Tis found!'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-4219164832565653544</id><published>2008-11-08T12:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T12:53:51.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lexicographical</title><content type='html'>I've always considered myself as a good-with-details kinda girl.  And then I watched &lt;a href="http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/erin_mckean_redefines_the_dictionary.html"&gt;Erin McKean's lecture at TED&lt;/a&gt;.  Take a few, watch it, then continue reading.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't think of a job more tedious than lexicography.  What I appreciate about Erin is her ability to take something as old as the hills (or at least the printing press) and twist it with a fresh perspective; an almost innovative idea.  What I appreciate too is that she's not pushing for avant-garde.  She says it best with, "I want him (her son) to think that this is what dictionaries &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;used&lt;/span&gt; to look like... it's a format that &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;died&lt;/span&gt; because it wasn't useful enough.  It wasn't really what people needed."  I also love that even though Erin is solely speaking of, oh let's call it communal lexicography, her words seem to transcend that topic alone, and hit points of application in almost every arena.  I've compiled some of my favorite quotes from the video, and added commentary.  Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When a guy who looks like that and has that hat is the face of modernity, you have a problem."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Yes.  This conjures up that timeless debate of conventional vs. contemporary.  When does "tradition" go from being a legacy of something we are honored to be a part of, to becoming something that at &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;best&lt;/span&gt; is ineffective and at &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;worst&lt;/span&gt; is oppressive?  This carries over into family traditions, company traditions, ideological, religious, and cultural traditions, etc.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What a dictionary is, is it's Victorian design merged with a little bit of modern propulsion.  It's steampunk."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Absolutely!  In fact, when I think of a dictionary, encyclopedia, or thesaurus, the very first image I get is my grandmother Virginia's bookshelf in her Victorian-esque living room.  Even newer dictionaries often have a steampunk feel.  I think the important concept is, and yes I'm stealing this phrase, "timeless truth and timely methods."  The church, for instance, comes to mind.  Why is repackaging so important?  Not for the sake of being hip and trendy, but for the sake of being most effective.  That's just one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Online dictionaries replicate almost all the problems of print, except for searchability.  And when you improve searchability, you actually take away the one advantage of print, which is serendipity."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I just like this because happenstance is one of my favorite pastimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lexicography is really more about material science.  We are studying the tolerances of materials that you use to build the structure of your expression; your speeches and your writing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-It's odd to think that we all articulate the way we do because some detail-guy/lady cared enough to search a thing out and write it down.  A craftsman doesn't craft without tools built by another.  I don't compose without a lineage of lexicographers.  (Better yet, I don't alliterate well unless a lineage of lexicographers lead the way.  See how good I am?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And kind of a tangent, but I like the concept of taking what you love into a science.  "The greats" (of anything really) always seemed to do this... to have nailed down their passions into a science; they know their forte inside and out so much so that  "a great" becomes "a great" by means of redefinition and innovation, whether that means bending the malleable parts, shaving corners, or adding to the existing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Lexicography is not rocket science, but even if it were, rocket science is being done by dedicated amateurs these days."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Definitely.  I think a dedicated amateur can pull off a lot.  In fact, I think I'll begin to refer to myself as a dedicated amateur.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I want him to think that this is what dictionaries &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;used&lt;/span&gt; to look like... it's a format that &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;died&lt;/span&gt; because it wasn't useful enough.  It wasn't really what people needed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I know it's already listed up there, but let's think it over.  What needs to die?  In your business, in your field of study, in your personal life.  What needs to begin to be looked at as history instead of modernity?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My final two cents about Erin... the last thing I appreciate is her enthusiasm.  I think I often underestimate the power of a passion.  When what you love exudes from you, you can't help but be contagious.  I gave lexicography a serious few seconds of thought as a career option after that lecture!  When I see someone talk about something they love, I want to love it too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can find more from the quirky, lovable, thought-provoking Erin at: &lt;a href="http://dictionaryevangelist.com/"&gt;http://dictionaryevangelist.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-4219164832565653544?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/4219164832565653544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=4219164832565653544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4219164832565653544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4219164832565653544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/11/ive-always-considered-myself-as-good.html' title='Lexicographical'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-4466440383944583646</id><published>2008-11-07T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:16:17.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All systems are go.</title><content type='html'>The woods were good; things are back to normal, with the exception of my incessant insomnia.  I really think it's the new apartment (although, it's not exactly new anymore...).  Creeks, noises, neighbors upstairs shuffling about, and that stinking train with it's blaring horn that comes by about 2 hours into my sleep... I'll get over it all eventually.  Maybe I should start praying for the conductor of that train... to find a new job.  We'll see.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Election season is finally over.  I'm thankful God doesn't have a race, gender, party-affiliation, or even nationality.  I also like that He's sovereign.  Regardless of who you voted for, I think we can all agree that we're a little bummed Heidi Klum &amp;amp; Seal aren't leaving the country now.  If only McCain would've pulled through for us there...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah Basye Eidson gets the award for &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best Election Season Facebook Status&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: "Sarah couldn't have handled another 4 years of whining and complaining anyways."  Funny.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow is my first country club gala event ever.  Our company did some fundraising for the ADA, and as fate would have it, we beat out all other competing Joplin businesses.  Another cool thing: I happened to tie with Teresa for top seller.  So the two of us, our GM, and the VP are taking a much needed Saturday night off and traveling out to the event.  Should be good for networking, if for nothing else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Sunday, my most favorite day, is D-group.  My co-leader and I know how much our girls love Starbucks, but since it's going to be in the 40's, and since two hours is a lot of time to try and keep eight 13 year olds contained in one building, we decided to set up a coffee bar in my apartment, play some board games, and start planning for our winterfest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really can't even articulate how much I love these girls.  Since I'm wordless, here's a peek into 3 recent conversations:  Wednesday night at youth group, our high schooler's took the night off (WC playoff game), so our junior high had the youth rooms all to themselves.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scenario 1:  Old mauve rocking chair that does a complete 360 happens to be vacant in the middle of the room.  What else would you do but spin each other around until someone gets hurt or until the chair tips and breaks?  We were so fortunate as to have both things happen at the same time.  Alexis flew out of the chair as it fell backwards, and Jordan, being a good friend, tried to catch her, but instead missed and jammed her finger.  Of course, when someone is hurt and needs ice, you don't just go alone... you traipse a flock of junior highers across a building to get it with you!  So we're laughing and shooshing down the hall when I noticed that some adult class off to our left is meeting in the lobby, with just a small partition to block distractions.  So, as not to be noticed, I suggested army crawling the 15' gap... which, obviously, is MUCH less noticable :).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scenario 2:  Toilet paper game.  Two of our girls, in particular, always think of creative ways to cheat in games, or to be completely absent from them.  Luke (our JH youth minister) pulls out a 12 pack of toilet paper and asks for volunteers.  I suggest to Phoenix that she go play, to which she reply's, "Ewe, no, it's not even Charmin!!"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scenario 3:  We are building a new building, so we think it best to grab a flashlight and travel out there to snoop around.  Setting is important here... it's completely dark, we're surrounded by farmland, and we are 3 junior highers and one leader sneaking around a fresh construction sight (which is probably... most likely... okay, definitely against a whole host of rules).  As we approach, fear sets in.  The following convo happens:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah: "Guy's, what if there are like, bums and squatters living in here right now?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maddie: "Oh, it's okay Sarah, I know French!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See?  You love them too now, don't you.  They make it easy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One last update:  Sometime in July, I lost one of my journals, a book, and my bible, all within a week.  For those who don't know, I'm a chronic journaler.  I write life down.  Losing that journal was particularly painful for me because this last year has been a very, very eventful one.  I was looking forward to opening it in 20 years and reliving some rough things and some good things, and tracing my growth.  Needless to say, I've been procrastinating on purchasing another one, because I still have ridiculous hopes of that one turning up.  I finally broke down Wednesday... but I didn't go conventional.  Over the summer, I read a particularly awful book (no seriously, awful) called "The Back of the Napkin," which deals with communicative sketches and doodles.  Even though the book was terrible (I mean really bad), I do agree it is a better way to communicate.  So instead of a journal, I bought a 100 pg sketch-pad, in which I have limited myself on wordage, and must draw out my day and thoughts.  This proves difficult because I have zero artistic abilities.  But who knows, maybe something will come out of it.  That being said, I'm off to art journal.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-4466440383944583646?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/4466440383944583646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=4466440383944583646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4466440383944583646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4466440383944583646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-systems-are-go.html' title='All systems are go.'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-8423410180955409426</id><published>2008-10-20T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T09:18:37.326-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies, woods, and words.</title><content type='html'>Friends, it's been a while.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tomorrow&lt;/span&gt; (or today, since it is three in the morning) marks one month in my new apartment with my fantastic roommate, Emily.  Our friends always told us we were similar, but now that we live together, it's pretty ridiculous.  We really should be just one person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In the past week&lt;/span&gt;, I have seen, for the first time ever: &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail, The Truman Show&lt;/span&gt;, and three episodes of &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lost&lt;/span&gt; from season 2 (in which &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; was completely lost, because I have yet to see anything from any other season).  My d-group of 8th grade girls reminded me that I am completely uncultured in movie history, and next on their list is the Star Wars saga.  Apparently there are 6 films??  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Today &lt;/span&gt;I hit a bit of a low-point (as in I cried.  a lot).  I am emotionally tapped out this week, folks.  Lot's of people with all their problems, and I can't fix them.  Quite frankly I don't want to.  God's sovereignty takes a lot off of my shoulders.  My emotional bucket emptied not because of the volume that I dealt with this week (which was above average), but because of the hard words needed in a few situations.  There's a big difference between real crisis and complainers.  I had a lot of bitter, controlling complainers this week, to which I do not lend my sympathy.  When I have a best friend who's 50 year old mother (who weighs 82 lbs) is on her death bed after a 7 year down-hill battle with lung cancer, it's hard for me to deal with petty things.  There's a difference between "prayer intercessor's" and gossips trying to make themselves look righteous compared to their peers.  Compare yourself to Jesus and tell me how righteous you find yourself.  Hard words wear me out quicker than anything.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This week, &lt;/span&gt;as soon as possible, I will hike with no books, no cell phone, no facebook, no email, no voices, no people, no hard words, and no confrontation, in the woods north Arkansas.  I am a realist who often errs on the side of cold heartedness.  Right now I feel that I am cold, harsh, distant, unsympathetic, and completely lacking in compassion and grace for others.  When I get in modes like this, it is easy for me to stick my nose into some long, dry systematic theology book and stay lost in my own thoughts for a time.  But it's not summer anymore, and I don't get to do whatever the heck I want.  The reality is that I will be around &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of people for 6 of 7 days a week.  I need a day to think about my response to grace and the gospel.  With that in perspective, I'll think about my response to other's and their situations.  Usually when this happens to me it reveals my own prideful heart, one that's full of advice but can never seem to take any.  My goal is to dig, repent, and come home as a more balanced &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;compassionate contender&lt;/span&gt; for truth.  I can't wait for the woods.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'l keep you posted...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-8423410180955409426?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/8423410180955409426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=8423410180955409426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8423410180955409426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8423410180955409426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/10/friends-its-been-while.html' title='Movies, woods, and words.'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-7878929729075571626</id><published>2008-08-06T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T21:51:18.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Book of the Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VVv-5XOjN3g/SJoKiPeYgsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ZWGD_q4jwCQ/s1600-h/51%2BluE0g18L._SL500_AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VVv-5XOjN3g/SJoKiPeYgsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ZWGD_q4jwCQ/s320/51%2BluE0g18L._SL500_AA240_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231505500530049730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right.  "Jim and Casper go to Church."  Worst.  Go ahead, throw your stones, but I was seriously disappointed for five reasons, all of which you are free to disagree with.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.)  Jim Henderson is a pansy.  Plain and simple.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.)  The "Here's what's wrong with your church" attitude reeks of pride (the mother of all sin).  The church is an institution stewarded by regenerated sinner's who are attempting to teach God's word to the masses.  By nature we are sinner's and by nature we fail.  I don't need an atheist to reemphasize this.  This is what grace is for.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.)  This book insinuates that if you look at your church through the eyes of non christians and cater to them,  you will find faults that can be fixed, and thus your church will be more effective and will grow.  Wrong!  I hate almost every stinking book about church growth.  Ultimately, Jesus is the head of the church, and it's up to Him to grow it.  The Spirit will work on the hearts of the people through the mouths of leaders, and there aren't 10-easy steps to make this happen.  It's ordained authority, and this book is a nice piece on reductionism.  What I mean is that Jim Henderson doesn't say all the wrong things, he just doesn't say everything he needs to say.  Altering the corporate ways in which we worship and commune with God and His people will not, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in and of itself&lt;/span&gt;, strengthen your church.  It's watered down Christianity, and it sucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.) Let me elaborate in this way: The church is NOT for non-christians.  They are welcome, we LOVE them, but they don't get to dictate what happens.  I assure you, seeker &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;insensitivity&lt;/span&gt; is as hot as ever!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like I said, there are things we do as Christians that seem odd, or even foolish to outsiders, especially in a corporate setting, take for instance communion and offering.  Taking bread and juice and thinking over, "This is My body, this is My blood," well all of that does sound a bit odd.  And in a culture where money is an idol, I'm sure the principle of stewardship sounds insane.  "I went to college to get this degree, to get this job, to make this amount of money, and therefore I worked for it, I own it, and I'll do with it as I please."  Let me submit to you that God gave you the mind with which you think, the job opportunities that came your way (and all the paychecks along with it), and if you worship the Creator God and not currency, then you'll want to be obedient and give &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sacrificially&lt;/span&gt; to be effective for His kingdom.  For some of us, that's way more than 10%.  That makes no sense if your heart is not regenerated.  All this to say that I didn't have to pay an atheist to travel around to America's megachurch's, let him log his complaints into book form, and sell it to the masses to figure that out.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.)  Jim Henderson is still a pansy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-7878929729075571626?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/7878929729075571626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=7878929729075571626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7878929729075571626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7878929729075571626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/08/worst-book-of-year-and-other-thoughts.html' title='Worst Book of the Year'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VVv-5XOjN3g/SJoKiPeYgsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ZWGD_q4jwCQ/s72-c/51%2BluE0g18L._SL500_AA240_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-7158373408352575358</id><published>2008-07-23T08:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T08:49:30.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ascend</title><content type='html'>NYR set up has begun!  In 20 minutes, I will be up a mountain with no wifi, tv, or cell phone, etc. for two whole weeks.  Bliss.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See you in august.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-7158373408352575358?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/7158373408352575358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=7158373408352575358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7158373408352575358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7158373408352575358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/07/ascend.html' title='Ascend'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-1532876360987590819</id><published>2008-07-21T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T21:38:19.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Share your library.</title><content type='html'>"I marvel that church people are so indifferent to, and neglectful of, the book that tells them about their Saviour.  But I marvel more that church LEADERS are doing so little about it.  Unquestionably the most fatal weakness of the present day Church is the lack of leadership in the pulpit on this one point of guiding and leading its people into the ONE HABIT that is the source and basis of everything that the church exists to accomplish in its people.  ...  If it isn't the pulpit's business, then just what is the pulpit's business?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What the church is for:&lt;/span&gt;  To HOLD CHRIST before the people.  The church was not invented by men.  Men have used it and misused it.  But the church was founded by Christ.  Christ is the heart of the church, and it's Lord.  The church exists to bear witness to Christ.  Christ himself, not the church, is the transforming power in men's lives.  The mission of the church is to exalt Christ, so that He Himself may do his own blessed work on the hearts of men."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this from Halley's Bible Handbook by Henry H. Halley (Zondervan, 1965), in which the front page says "The most important Page in This Book is 814."  Those paragraphs are what I found on page 814.  All of the capitalized statements are not my own, but are actually in print as such.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Having only been a Christian for 5 years, and having only experienced one &lt;a href="http://www.ccochurch.com/whatwebelieve/index.php"&gt;church&lt;/a&gt; community (which is wonderful), there are a lot of questions I haven't thought about, like, "What constitutes a church?",  "Is megachurch a fad?",  "What is the best, most effective way to grow a church?",  and "What has to change organizationally as a church grows?"  Only recently have I come into those discussions, and in doing so, I realized I have a huge lack of sound doctrine.   There's a lot that I don't know about church history, and I am fresh in my study of patristics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've picked up a few biographies, autobiographies, and books on church history, and it seems for every one I read, I need ten more to elaborate.  Feel free to recommend anything from your library.     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From all of that, here's the first foundation I've come to:  Recognizing Christ as the head of the church and realizing that ultimately it's up to Jesus to grow His church is necessary, and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;liberating&lt;/span&gt;.   I can worry much less about keeping my options open because God creates opportunities.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; don't grow the church, but I should be obedient and use my gifts (from God) for the opportunities (from God) in whatever location or organization He appoints for me.  All of life becomes much less about me and the things I need to do, and much more focused on what He has already done, and where I fit into what He's doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm learning I think a very important lesson.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-1532876360987590819?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/1532876360987590819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=1532876360987590819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1532876360987590819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1532876360987590819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-marvel-that-church-people-are-so.html' title='Share your library.'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-3080100058431579412</id><published>2008-07-14T13:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:32:49.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life lessons at Sea World</title><content type='html'>Last Tuesday we drove home from our Texas vacation.  Of the 20 times I've been to Texas, I've hated it 19.  I'm a minimalist who doesn't like humidity.  In that sauna of a state, everything is huge, large, grand, and arrogant.  Doesn't get much worse for me.  My sister Heidi, however, is queen of persuasion, and offered me a free trip to San Antonio with her, her husband Jay, and their three children (Ashtynne 7, Tarynne 3, Brody 1).  The catch?  Babysit so Jay &amp;amp; Heidi could have a couple of date nights.  Aunt Heather is my favorite of all of my roles in life, and with that, off we were for 9 days of bliss (in spite of Texas).  Little did I know, I was going to learn a great big lesson from three little people. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We stayed at a very cool hotel in San Antonio.  It was an Inn &amp;amp; Suite, with a giant pool, cabana, play ground area, and a secluded jungle-esque hot tub.  The two girls LOVE to swim.  They would swim, eat, play in the playground, swim some more, sleep, wake up, and want to swim again.  On the 4th &amp;amp; 5th, we had a two day pass to Sea World.  This was my first time to Sea World, and it was AMAZING!  I'm not a big fan of theme parks usually, but this one tops the charts.  All of the shows were amazing, the 4D theater was amazing, the frozen lemonade was amazing, even the fireworks were great (although we cut it short to beat some traffic). We were there for 13 hours on the 4th.  We left very tired, but very ready to sleep well and hit up day 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we wake up and start to get around, and were immediately bombarded with questions of, "Can we play on the playground?" followed by ten additions of  "But pretty please? ... pretty, pretty, PRETTY please?!"   Really?  You're not ready for Sea World again?  Then it was, "Well can we at least swim?"  What?!  There's a whole water park IN Sea World!  How naive!  There's something much better about 20 minutes away...  just trust us on this one!  Did you forget already?  It may be one thing if we had only &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;talked&lt;/span&gt; about Sea World, and they had never experienced it, but they KNEW the greatness of Sea World!  Why would they put it off?  How could they choose anything less?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I see people, even myself, naively choose a sandbox over Sea World.  I feel like God says, "Really?  I mean there's Jesus.  You know Him, and love Him.  You've felt grace and you've felt life, and you're choosing that?  You're choosing less?  Did you forget already?"  Thank you Jesus for grace and always remind me lest I forget and choose less.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-3080100058431579412?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/3080100058431579412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=3080100058431579412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3080100058431579412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3080100058431579412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/07/sea-world-and-sunburns.html' title='Life lessons at Sea World'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-7569090943964756370</id><published>2008-06-18T09:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T11:38:48.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Green</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I like Missouri.  There's land and family and roots and room to breathe and community and a church I love with people I love and a job I love.  And life, life gets a little clearer with a garden around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I dig up our yard every spring.  I like to plant and watch things grow.  It's a good thing, to work with your hands and get some dirt under your nails.  I have a favorite spot in our yard by a rock where I pick a new annual to plant every year.  This year I went to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;four&lt;/span&gt; stores until I found the seeds I wanted.  And when you find the perfect plant, you need to buy the perfect soil, which took me to two other stores.  I came home and dug out the gardening tools and my big grandma-esque gardening hat, and dug up some earth.  I planted, watered, pulled out the weeds, monitored, watered some more, until finally three weeks later, out from seeds came a stalk and a bud, and this morning, a big beautiful dahlia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; It's also a good thing to see your efforts bloom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm 20.  I'm green.  Not the environmentalist, save-the-planet-with-your-8-compartments-of-a-trash-can-green, but green as in new.  Young.  Inexperienced at life and always looking for a little direction.  Gardening gives perspective.  I get seasons.  They make sense.  It helps me understand growth, and what it means to wait for a good thing.  And what it is when a good thing is at it's end.  I understand what it is to plant, and to work for something.  Gardening, well, the whole act of it is really just one big metaphor, isn't it?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-7569090943964756370?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/7569090943964756370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=7569090943964756370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7569090943964756370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7569090943964756370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/06/green.html' title='Green'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-1780418681584584499</id><published>2008-05-29T13:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T14:25:06.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heather thinks...</title><content type='html'>... that when life gives you lemons, you should turn those lemons into &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;profit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; by donating them to charity to get a tax write off.  I guess you could go the route of making lemonade... that's only beneficial if you sell it from your driveway, and if you choose this lesser option,  make sure you keep up with inflation rates!  Don't get handled!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that &lt;a href="http://www.foxsearchlight.com/youngatheart/"&gt;Young at Heart&lt;/a&gt; (check it out at&lt;a href="http://moxiecinema.com/"&gt; The Moxie&lt;/a&gt;) was &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;amazing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and is considering putting an "Ask Virginia" section in our magazine, or maybe a "Meet Virginia" section, like the great &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cemUH5negGE"&gt;Train song&lt;/a&gt;.  Who's Virginia?  My 79 year old grandmother, more commonly known as Grandma Ginny, Ginny Maxine, or Grams.  Whichever you'd prefer.  Watch the movie... all of the nonsense following will make much more sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that &lt;a href="http://www.isagenix.com/us/en/home.dhtml"&gt;Isagenix&lt;/a&gt; is a pain in the neck, but I already feel better and I'm on day 3.  So buy some.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that there is not enough information about creative class cities on the internet, and Dr. Richard Florida needs to do something about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RyHQlnMvWg"&gt;this video&lt;/a&gt; is hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-1780418681584584499?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/1780418681584584499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=1780418681584584499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1780418681584584499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1780418681584584499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/05/heather-thinks.html' title='Heather thinks...'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-1820647115370163139</id><published>2008-05-25T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T11:34:54.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=TS45NGYBqUw"&gt;This guy&lt;/a&gt; had to be from Joplin.  Maybe Oronogo.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-1820647115370163139?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/1820647115370163139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=1820647115370163139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1820647115370163139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1820647115370163139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-guy-had-to-be-from-joplin.html' title=''/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-4737594633155131695</id><published>2008-05-07T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T04:35:02.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obama, Obama</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I saw this very inspiring &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghSJsEVf0pU"&gt;political ad&lt;/a&gt; today that filled my heart with hope, and I was impressed with a few things; the number of endorsements, the many ethnicities, the music, his name becoming the mantra for change (Obama, Obama).  His campaign team, they are &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;great, &lt;/span&gt;really they are.  Creating a video that resonates so well with a broad, diverse America is tough to do.  Tugging on those heartstrings of hope is impossible to resist.  Almost.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They're &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; good, that they almost had me.  Then I remembered his spending budget.  He is quite possibly the most fiscally irresponsible candidate on the board, and I thought, "With this being the first election I can vote in, why would I possibly choose another ludicrous spender?"  Don't tell me what you value, Obama.  Show me your budget, and I'll tell &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; what you value.  I hate to call names, but I'm also a realist.  Here's how I see him: a demagogue who has nothing in his boat but the old class-warfare speeches and a new political universalism.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are so many good things about him, but for my vote, nothing trumps how he spends my (and your) money. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-4737594633155131695?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/4737594633155131695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=4737594633155131695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4737594633155131695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4737594633155131695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/05/obama-obama.html' title='Obama, Obama'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-9048460406848256976</id><published>2008-04-30T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T00:41:01.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Name that Ball!</title><content type='html'>Tonight we wrapped up Wednesday nights with our junior high students, and it was a BLAST!  We had games, snacks, and a whole lotta laughs.  I think the room and surrounding hallways smelled like b.o. in about 10 minutes, which might be a new record.  Lito Solorio had two sweet games planned, both of which I've never played before.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first was a sock game, where everyone stands in a circle around a trash can.  You put a sock between two people, and the object is to yank the sock out of the person's hand standing next to you, or make them hit the trash can, and they're out.  Last one standing wins.  At first it was just a lot of tugging, pulling, and dodging of the trash can, but after a while, some students got pretty strategic and ganged up on the sponsor's by clothes lining them to the ground.  Genius.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next game might've been even better.  "Name that Ball!" is probably the best game we've played all year.  Here's how it works:  Get 10 or so kids and send 'em out to the hallway.  Find a youth leader (usually a guy who can make a scary face) and put his head between two 6' tables.  Along the tables, you place different kinds of balls.  We had  a purple bouncy ball, a basketball, KJ's head, and then a frisbee (again, funny Lito).  You cover the table with black table cloth's (hiding KJ's body),  then put the balls on the table, and put t-shirts over the balls.  The student's walk in one at a time, and the crowd cheers them on.  You tell them that the object of the game is to lift up the t-shirt and "Name that Ball!" and whoever does it in the fastest time wins.  Greg Hafer was "timing" the game, but actually timing the screams.  One of our 7th grade girls won with a record 3 seconds.  Our last contestant was Dan Mitchell, who had happened to play the game before.  To KJ's surprise, he didn't scream, but instead smashed a whip cream pie in KJ's face, which is fun for pretty much everyone except KJ.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a good wrap up with lots of laughs and memories.  Friday night we have our 8th grade girls slumber party, so that'll actually be the last time with my girls before they head off to high school.  This is the completion of my 2nd year as a junior high volunteer, and honestly, I don't think ministry gets better than this.  It's a smelly, funny, difficult, inquisitive, awkward, wholly lovable age group, and I'm hooked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-9048460406848256976?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/9048460406848256976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=9048460406848256976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/9048460406848256976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/9048460406848256976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/04/name-that-ball.html' title='Name that Ball!'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-8652474498984772520</id><published>2008-04-13T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T20:22:41.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strangers?</title><content type='html'>Last night on my way out of Joplin, I noticed my car looked like crap.  Thanks rain.  So I thought I'd run it by the wash on 20th and Rangeline...you know, the shady one with bad lighting and bums everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pull in and notice a couple of semi's in the back with the driver's standing outside next to two very scandalously dressed ladies.  Well, "ladies" is probably a bit of a reach.  I go through the wash and then drive around to the vacuum's, where I notice a man pacing back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I continue, let me fill you in on something.  I'm very...stupidly-brave.  I've picked up hitch-hiker's, camped alone, talked to stranger's in the abandoned train station by Landreth Park, and all sorts of other things I would never tell my parents.  And as crazy as this sounds, I have good judgement.  These things all sound unsafe, but I feel okay about them.  There are times when I've said no because it was too dangerous, or I had a bad feeling, but not many.  I mean, as a Christian, what's the worst that could happen...heaven?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the man.  He's standing towards the front of my car with a white trash bag over his shoulder.  He's talking (to no one), and pacing.  He looks about 40 with a balding head and glasses that cover his face.  If you put him in a suit, he would look like your friendly investor.  If you gave him a mug shot, he would look like a serial killer.  I wouldn't be surprised if I saw him at Edward Jones or on the news at 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get out of my car and start organizing all my crap, and at this point he's on my left and moving further away from me.  Five minutes later I'm done and I start to reach for the vacuum, and he's&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; standing&lt;/span&gt; to my immediate right...like we're talking within my arm span, which bothers me for two reasons: 1.) I'm usually very aware of my surroundings, and the fact that I didn't see (or even hear) him circle around and start walking towards me in that HUGE open area was unreal, and 2.) I had no idea how long he'd been standing there, that close to me.  And let's add a third: His trash bag was on the ground next to him and he had one hand in his coat pocket and the other in his jean pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of those times when I just didn't feel scared.  I was a little startled, but I don't even think I jumped, and I certainly didn't show it in my face.  I guess more than anything I was pissed that I didn't notice him sooner, and I was a little curious as to why I couldn't see his hands, but I didn't feel the need to get away.  Maybe I've got more fight than flight in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started stuttering.  "S-sss-sp-spare a quarter for a loaf of bread?"   He was making direct eye contact with me, and he never broke it, which is good.  Now that he was closer, I noticed other things, like that he was clean-shaven, he didn't really smell like a bum, and he had a burn-tan, like the kind you get when you work in your yard all day.  He wasn't fidgety, he wasn't scary, he didn't look cracked out...he was just a guy.  I said, "Yeah, actually I have a couple of bucks," and handed him the cash in my back pocket.  He took it, said, "Have a good night," picked up his trash bag, and walked away.  I vacuumed my car and headed for home.  I turned down 20th street and there he was, walking by Aldi's with a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk.  He actually bought groceries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I knew his name, and his story.  I wish I knew where he was from, what growing up was like, and what his family was/is like.  And I wonder if he ever thinks about Jesus...if he's bitter, if he's apathetic, if he's a follower.  I guess I really want to know how alike we are, because I bet it's more than I could imagine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-8652474498984772520?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/8652474498984772520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=8652474498984772520' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8652474498984772520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8652474498984772520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-car-wash.html' title='Strangers?'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-5917581311325897015</id><published>2008-03-03T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T19:49:02.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Commune with the Muses</title><content type='html'>As my friend Lori would say, I'm a "mega cause-hopper."  I'm a sucker for marketing.  I hop on bandwagons regularly.  I have these great ideas and I begin things, and I would say I actually finish about half.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's something I'm working on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've knocked the dilemma down to this: somewhere along the way, I get very un-inspired in what I'm doing.  It's not the first, or even second roadblock that does it... but three or more, and I throw in the towel.  I read something today that made me feel a little better about this though.  "People often say that motivation doesn't last.  Well, neither does bathing.  That's why we recommend it daily." -Zig Ziglar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Funny.  Almost as funny as being named "Zig Ziglar."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-5917581311325897015?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/5917581311325897015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=5917581311325897015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/5917581311325897015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/5917581311325897015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/03/commune-with-muses.html' title='Commune with the Muses'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-4172428012272600425</id><published>2008-02-27T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T14:30:17.243-08:00</updated><title type='text'>that's it, im movin to seattle.</title><content type='html'>So on the way back from Cincy Believe, someone started up Mark Driscoll's podcast from the community of Mars Hill, Seattle.  It was on humor in the bible, and it was amazing.  It was the first time I'd been exposed to this podcast, and I've been a regular listener since.  Three things:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This summer I was given Dick Staub's, "The Culturally Savvy Christian,"  which I initially hated, then liked, and now love.  Listen to Mark, pick up Staub's book, and then continue life with a better perspective of Jesus and culture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Go to the city and see what people are doing with their time, talent, and treasure.  Who or what are they worshipping other than Jesus?"  Then he identified some modern-day temples, i.e. a restaurant, sports arena, big screen, or another person.  I work with non-christians, and after some reflection, MOST of our conversations are those four things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Timeless truth, timely method."  Mark had several criticisms of emerging churches.  I'll save you the chatter, but his opinion is that such things like Jesus as the only way, hell being reality, the virgin birth, and all other debated ideas in the emergent church is primarily how the gospel is being distorted and/or compromised.  The scripture content was Acts 17, and Mark elaborates on the effectiveness of Paul being in the city (where culture is made), meeting with people, and quoting the poets or "rockstars" of their day as a better way to relay Jesus.  He affirmed the mission of Mars Hill was to present the timeless truth of Jesus in a timely, or culturally relevant manner, which in the opinion of a twenty-something, will absolutely appeal to every twenty-something.  and above.  and below.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He talked about "creative class cities," which is something I haven't heard of, but through the wonders of wikipedia, was able to learn about in 2 minutes.  These urban arena's are where most of America's ever-changing culture comes from, and listed were Chapel Hill, Seattle, Portland, Austin, and San Francisco.  What enables these cities (according to Dr. Richard Florida of Toronto),  is the "3 T's,"  or talent (a highly concentrated populus of talent in all of the arts), tolerance (for all of the diversities), and technology (a large population of feigns for the cutting edge).  Something I'll do more reading on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And a side note, if you live in Joplin, let's put on some new eyes and stop treating this city like an overgrown-midwest-hick-town and start shaping it for the city we really desire, one that's exciting, productive, artistic, and utterly in love with Jesus.  That said, I have no practical ideas on how to make this happen.  :0)  And if you still don't want to love Joplin, or just plain love everything about the Mars Hill community, then Jon Hill said it best at the end of the humor sermon, "That's it, I'm movin to Seattle!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-4172428012272600425?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/4172428012272600425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=4172428012272600425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4172428012272600425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4172428012272600425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/02/thats-it-im-movin-to-seattle.html' title='that&apos;s it, im movin to seattle.'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-3729725683621401232</id><published>2008-02-25T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T13:44:18.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Really?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Across from me is a professor at MoSo, I'm not sure of what, discussing with a student, in a thick hick accent, COMPLETE with bad grammar (get ready for it...), the gun she's recently purchased and how she'd like to say a thing or two to those "(insert expletive) arabs driving up the oil prices and ruinin' [leave off the "g"] our economy."  Because gas prices are apparently the only indicator of the instability of our economy, and it's no one's fault but those (expletive) arabs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And while we're on the conversation of professors at Southern, I'd like to say this about the emails I receive from my psych professor:  "Alot" is two words.  Let's make it a mantra:   "a lot, two words.  a lot, two words.  a lot, two words."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's add the absence of these things to the list of what I miss about a D-1 school.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-3729725683621401232?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/3729725683621401232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=3729725683621401232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3729725683621401232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3729725683621401232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/02/really.html' title='Really?'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-3442504306627258408</id><published>2008-02-20T09:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T11:16:57.302-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's all about perspective</title><content type='html'>So while casually browsing through the JoMo library, I discovered "The Interpreter's Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes,"  and while I'd like to say that I've wowed the world and read the first 9 volumes in a month, the truth is, I started with volume 10, and I'm still on volume 10.  Yes, they're that good.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love reading.  Finding words I don't know or thoughts I've never thought or discussed is a cool discovery in the whole adventure, but my favorite, my absolute favorite thing to have happen when reading is to discover, right there in print, an idea that I've had or something I've felt, but could just never quite articulate.  I love finding someone who can so eloquently put into words some truth I've known but couldn't speak.  And it happened this morning, in this "great read" over coffee and a bagel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Epehsians 3:17-19&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"...And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power together with all the saints, to grasp how high and long and wide and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aside from having heard it in a popular song or two, this section of scripture was introduced to me during a particularly rough period of time in my senior year by Janice French, who prayed these verses over my life.  Two months and one cool encounter later, we again met as a d-group and she discussed why she chose this verse, and these words have since in my life always been a reminder of God's persistence in pursuing me, and His ability to take care of me in all of the ways that I need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as I'm reading this exegesis and exposition, there are three significant things that stick out to me, all of them ideas that we know and are familiar with, but they are just said so well, I thought I'd share it as a reminder.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Every life has some kind of roots and foundations: the beautiful and distinctive thing about the Christian life is that it is rooted and grounded in love."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The highest knowledge of God and of his truth is not an individual attainment, nor a privilege reserved for a few.  It is given to the community of Christian believers, and it can be appropriated by an individual only as he shares in the life of the community...[height, depth, width, length], i.e., the full scope of the divine purpose; the redemptive activity of God in all it's perspectives."  Community, community, community.  I had a conversation over the summer about how my Christian life came to be.  My very first church event, ever, was Believe in the 8th grade.  I didn't get it (grace) then, I didn't know the "Jesus story," but Believe was my first taste of community.  That was enough to get me interested.  Now, every time the Believe Dream Team rolls out for a new event, I just think of all the 8th graders in different cities in a different era with different backgrounds, but with one true and common thing to learn: the beauty of community.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this last one, this is long, so trek with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"God is a 'Thou' and not an 'It.'  To know something as an 'It' is one thing.  To know something as a 'Thou' in a love relationship is very different."  He then uses a couple of illustrations, but here's my pick:  "A psychiatrist, in so far at least as he is a scientist and not also a friend, may deal with a patient as an 'it.'  The relationship is impersonal.  The Christian minister and fellowship deal with the 'it' as a person--one to be forgiven and loved...indeed the contrast between the two forms of knowing is infinite. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; They belong to different worlds of experience&lt;/span&gt;...all personal 'I-Thou' relationships are different in kind from 'I-It' relationships.  The 'I' is no longer master.  No person can be manipulated as can a piece of matter or a rational idea.  A personal relationship involves either love or hate, either trust or distrust, either committal or withdrawal.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  The dimensions of experience in a love relationship become infinite.&lt;/span&gt;"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Changing "It" to "Thou" constitutes an entire shift in worldview.  Choosing to approach God in that way signifies the change that takes place inside.  That was me in the 9th grade at summer conference "getting it" for the first time, and this is the first time I've thought of articulating my conversion in this way.  Thank you Mr. Theodore Wedel, whoever you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-3442504306627258408?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/3442504306627258408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=3442504306627258408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3442504306627258408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/3442504306627258408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-all-about-perspective.html' title='it&apos;s all about perspective'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-935600377910357439</id><published>2008-02-10T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T18:18:46.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sully's bucket list</title><content type='html'>learn to:&lt;br /&gt;ride a horse&lt;br /&gt;fly a plane&lt;br /&gt;cake decorate&lt;br /&gt;snowboard&lt;br /&gt;fluently speak arabic and french&lt;br /&gt;fluently play guitar and piano&lt;br /&gt;memorize the book of philippians&lt;br /&gt;memorize federalist papers #10 and #51&lt;br /&gt;be a floutist for the chicago symphony orchestra&lt;br /&gt;write a contributing article to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;times&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;diversify my portfolio with at least 2 high risk investments (im a fiscal prude).&lt;br /&gt;pick myself up after a loss...like losing huge because i chose 2 high risk investments and they bombed. (this is one i can maybe leave off)&lt;br /&gt;publish a book&lt;br /&gt;have a degree in nursing, genetics, bible, and int'l relations (oh yes, it's possible)&lt;br /&gt;win a photography contest&lt;br /&gt;publish melange (oliver!)&lt;br /&gt;study abroad&lt;br /&gt;visit the holy land...actually, i want to visit 6 of the 7 continents&lt;br /&gt;finish 20 classics&lt;br /&gt;read ayn rand&lt;br /&gt;spend some time in the middle east&lt;br /&gt;run a marathon&lt;br /&gt;spend some time doing relief work in africa&lt;br /&gt;better understand the life and times of a modern day junior high student&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sounds about right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-935600377910357439?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/935600377910357439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=935600377910357439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/935600377910357439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/935600377910357439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/02/sullys-bucket-list.html' title='sully&apos;s bucket list'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-4565706047538348989</id><published>2008-02-03T12:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T13:03:24.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>believe</title><content type='html'>one down, nine to go, with much better performances on my part. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"mad" is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; an emotion that just naturally comes out of me, but i saw it over the weekend, and i didn't like it.  things to work on:  patience, gentle answers (to the same questions that were asked and answered 50 times prior), and efficiency. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see you in cincy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-4565706047538348989?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/4565706047538348989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=4565706047538348989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4565706047538348989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/4565706047538348989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/02/believe.html' title='believe'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-6576904055963585085</id><published>2008-01-11T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T10:51:51.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the crib</title><content type='html'>It's ridiculous to attempt to run a restaurant when your city is on a boil order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-6576904055963585085?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/6576904055963585085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=6576904055963585085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/6576904055963585085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/6576904055963585085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2008/01/crib.html' title='the crib'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-8127011630710844684</id><published>2007-12-27T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T12:57:12.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i woke up this morning hardly believing what i heard on the radio...benazir bhutto assassinated just two weeks before primary elections in pakistan were to begin.   some things im thinking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.)  obviously, pervez musharaf will deny allegations that he had anything to do with her assasination.   things that would lead the world to believe otherwise would be the fact that after returning from her exile, he reluctantly granted her amnesty, he is her antithesis in the general elections (they are not up against each other; he was "elected" president and she is up for her 3rd term as prime minister, but think of it more as a republican president with democratic congress, plus lots of bombs, laundering, scandal rumors, and an authoritarian government trying to present itself as a democracy...),  and shortly before she was to speak in front of her largest rally in november, she was put under house arrest without citation and without any sort of trial or charges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.)  i admire many things about this woman.   well educated (degrees from both harvard and oxford), she had made a way for herself in a society that is predominantly muslim, male, and very against her political platform, which she presented as the &lt;em&gt;5 e's&lt;/em&gt; : employment, education, energy, environment, and equality, all things that are viewed as very progressive in pakistan's society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.)  i even think musharaf might be innocent in this...pakistan has sheltered a large number of terrorists in recent years, all of which were also against a progressive woman prime minister.  hamas, al-qaeda, islamic jihad, hezbollah, and whoever else there is could be to blame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.)  let's not forget she was a wife and mother of three.   her father was hung without trial and with false allegations when he was prime minister in the 70's, one brother was assassinated in '85 and the other in '96, which is said to be the reason she left her post as prime minister and went into a self-impsed exile.  her husband was also charged and imprisoned, without trial, for 8 years by interpol on charges of "money laundering."  through all of that, she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;returned &lt;/span&gt;to pakistan to try and serve another term.  bravery, stupidity, call it what you want, but ms. bhutto did believe enough in the idea of democracy to try and institute it in a red-taped pakistani government.  we can delve into alternative history all we want and say that she was the leader to pull pakistan from it's pit, but we'll never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-8127011630710844684?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/8127011630710844684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=8127011630710844684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8127011630710844684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/8127011630710844684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-woke-up-this-morning-hardly-believing.html' title=''/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-1204427389583840969</id><published>2007-05-21T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T22:25:22.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>end of a good thing</title><content type='html'>today was our last day of small group/bible study. we wrapped up sex god, rob bells new book, and i'd say, all in all, it's been the best discussion group i've been a part of. the combination of wonderful material and even more wonderful group members made the whole experience just...perfect. i think leah and i learned more from those women than they know they taught us. but the one thing that sticks out in my mind above the whole encounter was a comment that one of the married ladies made today. it was exactly what i, and im sure the others, needed to hear, and it was a great way to sum up the last of the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you know, when i was young and in my first few years of marraige, the thought of my marraige not being the same in heaven as it is here on earth bothered me. but now that i've been married a while, im thinkin that there's gotta be more to life than this." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, she loves her husband dearly and vise-versa, it's just that in her own comedical way, she pointed out that he, even while giving his all, could never satisfy her &lt;em&gt;every&lt;/em&gt; need &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; of the time, and she has the same fault. we all have the same fault. companions are not meant to wholly satisfy each other by filling up the voids. the best couples i've observed seem to be the ones who are already wholly satisfied in someone that &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; completely satisfy. somehow, when two people like this cross paths, it's a relationship that inspires, a relationship that ministers, and the relationship that God had/has in mind for all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-1204427389583840969?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/1204427389583840969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=1204427389583840969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1204427389583840969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/1204427389583840969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2007/05/end-of-good-thing.html' title='end of a good thing'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117850063635837085.post-7540315394289475461</id><published>2007-05-13T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T22:37:58.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>life with a side of happiness, please.</title><content type='html'>I save everything. Journals from first grade, notebooks from all throughout school, thank-you cards and notes of encouragement, and even music sheets from my first year of band. So while digging through a box yesterday, I ran across a fairly recent writing of mine. Last year in comp, we had a series of essays to write, and this is one that I started but never finished. I like it so much because it was written about a month before graduation. The thought of graduation wasn't real. I still hadn't picked a college, I had no real plan other than genetics of some sort, but maybe int'l business and maybe journalism and maybe ethnobotany if I decided I liked it enough. I thought I would change out all of my friends, that we (my highschool friends and I) would never see each other or talk because we were miles apart leading different lives, I NEVER imagined we'd actually find time hang out. I had never lived on my own. I had always pretended to be more prepared for life than I actually was. I was just a girl trying to figure it out, much like some of you. And as I reflected on what I'd been taught, what I'd overheard, and what I'd observed, I wrote the following. Allow me to share it with you...and to finally finish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life with a Side of Happiness, Please 4/3/06&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happiness? Well, let's see, we have good grades, excellent colleges, dating, music, nice clothes, fancy cars, expensive homes, and more. No? Well, there are a few alternatives. We have the party scene: there's alcohol, sex, gambling, rebellion, and a host of drugs. That doesn't work either? Well, how about yoga, meditation, self-help books, zen-friendly homes, Dr. Phil, or attending church?" Somewhere in there, there has got to be an answer. What makes a person happy? What fills &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; void? You know the one I'm talking about. You can see how your friends fill it, with relationships, with food, with money, with attention...but &lt;em&gt;you, &lt;/em&gt;of course, stay clear of those things. You can always point it out in others, but all you know about yourself is that you feel it from time to time...that gap for which there seems to be no interim. What can we intentionally put, or gain, in our lives that will lessen the anxiety we can't seem to shake? Parents, mentors, educators, and spiritual leaders all have an answer. The problem for a high-school girl wondering what to do with her life from now 'til end is that all given solutions seem to contradict. "You can be whatever you want," say parents (but I have no idea what I want to be). "Life is up to you! You make your life what you dream it to be, and we'll help get you there," say educators (but what about the unexpected things in life that change my plans). "Life is not about you! Follow God's will, and everything will fall into place," say spiritual leaders (but I feel absolutely NO direction from God, and I truly am seeking). They do, however, agree that there is some sort of achievable peace, or happiness, that is vital in the search for significance, and life is meant to be spent moving towards it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And too often, the &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; is money. From parents, we hear that money isn't everything, yet we see them arguing over how to spend it, where to invest it, and we ourselves experience some level of disappointment in not having enough of it. Lot's of sources push money as the key to a less-stressed, thus happier life, but no source is stronger than the home. From our very earliest interactions, money is a key player. Allowances for chores, compensation for good grades, an extra 10 bucks on Friday night, the "I just turned 16 car" that get's replaced by the "I just graduated" car two years later, and so on. Those become our first experiences with money. From there, it grows to wanting more, so we can buy more, look better, feel better about ourselves, get what we've always wanted--truly, it is a source of happiness for many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With age, we come up with cognitive ways to get more money. Educators enter in here. The first time I remember hearing about career pathways was the &lt;em&gt;third grade&lt;/em&gt;. I specifically remember the counselor saying "I know graduation seems so far away, but time will fly by, and nothing bad can come from early preparation." The lesson proceeded with a list of careers. Big ones. Doctor, lawyer, aristocrat, astronaut, engineer, firefighter, etc. Cosmetologist, photojournalist, coach, banker, housewife, musician, athlete-- all of those were left out. Because really no one makes it in the music industry or on the pro circuit. And of course, no one really finds hairdressing or money counting as a passion of theirs, but rather as a second rate job. And from there, we discuss the things we need to do to get to the big goal: the money-making career. What courses, hobbies, and summer jobs look good on a resume, and what kind of people are good to network with. So, is it knowledge that educators are so eager for us students to attain, or are they just some assistance on our pathway to the money-goal? Perhaps it varies. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(This would be where my essay ended...below is the recently finished product.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my pursuit, I've come across several articles and books that assure me I am only "seven easy steps away from the life [I've] always wanted." And then there are the catch phrases (work smart, not hard) and the infomercials (make triple your income now without ever leaving home). Though I've just begun deciphering these things on my own, I've found most of what I've heard to be...well, crap. What I do know to be true are the paradoxes. The more I have, the more I want. The more I give away, the less it takes for me to be satisfied. The more I enjoy what I do, the less concerned I am with income. I babysit for $3 an hour (sometimes less). But when waitressing, I make around $250 in a weekend. I like babysitting more than waitressing, and it certainly has nothing to do with pay. Working is a necessary habit embedded in our bones, and the more I skip out on it, whether it be not doing an assignment, not reading for small group, not giving my all at work, not loving the unlovable, no matter what kind of work is being skipped out on, I feel the void. Giving &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; great gain. Less really is more. Serving is better than being served. And &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is happiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/117850063635837085-7540315394289475461?l=heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/feeds/7540315394289475461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=117850063635837085&amp;postID=7540315394289475461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7540315394289475461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/117850063635837085/posts/default/7540315394289475461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heatherreneesullivan.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-with-side-of-happiness-please.html' title='life with a side of happiness, please.'/><author><name>Heather</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14687985777149125757</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-044KAkn42Z8/TsxRv4TUrlI/AAAAAAAAADk/FBwSDzEszxc/s220/EurekaSprings.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
