<?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-6233240284462674731</id><updated>2011-10-05T13:19:01.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just be</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-2982464604998507756</id><published>2010-10-24T16:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T18:24:21.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mistakes</title><content type='html'>Note to self: Do not let the fear of making mistakes prevent you from moving at all. Make decisions. Make mistakes. Move on.&lt;br /&gt;I am not responsible for providing a way out of my mistakes, I just have to take what God's grace gives me. He did not give me grace so that I could stand there and just know I am forgiven. He gave grace b/c He knew I would/always will need it. Can I say that God's grace is kinda scary? I have no control over it. I don't have the knowledge of how it is going to come, I don't have any way to make it happen, I just have to believe that it will come and live my life accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;Btw, this is total future projection. I am nowhere close to knowing God's grace. Right now I live my life as if every little action I make will affect eternity forever. Silly little girl, who are you to think you can affect the eternal? Who are you to think you are able to change God (the only eternal,the basis of all eternal things)? More important is why I think He needs changing. I think it just boils down to control. I have no control of grace, so I want to change the way it works. I want to know how it comes, from where, what I can do to make it happen. I want control. Self, open your eyes. Can't you see from this week, this semester that anything you have control over goes wrong? Not neccarily terribly bad, just wrong. Not right. Not godly. Can't you see only God is godly, and only actions, even "godly" actions, are wrong w/o Him behind it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-2982464604998507756?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/2982464604998507756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/10/mistakes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2982464604998507756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2982464604998507756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/10/mistakes.html' title='Mistakes'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-878270387413726164</id><published>2010-09-26T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T22:57:44.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Healing at the gate called "Beautiful"</title><content type='html'>Usually when Jesus calls you a name, it is not for who you are right then as much as who you will be. &lt;br /&gt;E.g. He renamed Simon "Peter" as the rock (petros)on which he would build his church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have been going through such a rut lately (maybe an understatement), but things are slowly getting better. This morning I realized that 'giving' is my primary love language because I realized I kept offering food to my roommate (like the friendship bread I had w/ breakfast), and even though she kept refusing, I kept wanting to share some of what I knew to be good w/ her. I like to share a lot of my things, and anything that makes me happy I usually want to give to someone else so that they will be happy too. This isn't always true, but generally. It's really nice to know your primary love language. It makes me feel like I have a purpose (even though that is NOT what should give me purpose), an intentional creation, and that made me feel less "rut"-ish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had one of those mornings that ran like a clock but I only briefly looked at the beautiful gentle morning light caressing through the limbs. God might speak, most definitely speaks, on other types of days, but the days that we least notice what he is doing that He decides to hurl a spiritual brick into our face and make us stumble and fall back flat seeing stars. Probably pay back for not noticing the grass. I had one of those mornings, and I am still recovering (sigh).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church seemed normal enough. Mark Sworenson spoke first on the passage in Joshuah where God actually made the sun stand still (great passage), and then he moved into Acts 3 where Peter and John heal a crippled beggar sitting at the temple gate. I know the story from years of kids church, but today it took on a whole new meaning for me. It starts w/ Peter and John walking to their afternoon prayer. A beggar sitting in front of the temple gate called "BEAUTIFUL" holds out his hand or shouts at them or maybe he just mumbles a half hearted question and continues to look at the ground in a hopeless plea for money. Peter and John stop, LOOK STRAIGHT AT HIM, and say "LOOK AT US!", which he does in hopes of something they have.&lt;br /&gt;Then Peter says, straight into this man's upturned, expectant, needy face, full eye contact, "Silver and gold have I none, but that what I have I GIVE YOU. IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST OF NAZARETH, WALK." TAKING HIM BY THE HAND he lifted up the crippled beggar and in that instant he became strong. The once crippled man began to walk and dance and praise God STRAIGHT IN TO THE HOUSE OF GOD W/ THE REST OF HIS CHILDREN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silver and Gold I may have, but the greatest thing I can give someone is Jesus Christ! I have had such a calling to help the homeless and needy people around me, but the besides a meal, socks, or running water, these people need my Jesus, the fisherman who can supply all their needs. These people don't really want just money, they need to walk and run! They need to jump and dance all the way into the courts of our Lord, and I think I think God wants to use me as one of the gates to do this. Mark Sworenson had randomly mentioned the little tidbit about about the names Jesus gives being precursors of what is to come, and it didn't really hit home until the temple gate under which this horribly crippled beggar sat just happened to be called "Beautiful". The name Rebekah means beautiful, among other things, so my mom has used "Beautiful" as a nickname for me ever since I was little. It is a very deep down, love-you-mom, home connected nickname for me. When Mark got to that part of the passage I literally starting tearing up and had to hold them back until the passage was finished b/c I felt like God was speaking directly to me. The temple gate called "Beautiful", that's me. It isn't even a door, its the opening in the wall, it is the place that is designed to hold up some of the wall so people can walk through the gap and be in the courts of God. It isn't a thing, its a hole, its a space specially created by God under which crippled beggars WILL be brought, WILL be looked at, WILL be helped up, and WILL be healed. This is a promise. It is the place where the crippled can get to God, the space that would be nothing more than a hole, except God is on the other side. It is a gap that shows the way to God. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;So maybe the gate "Beautiful" will help the desolate population here some time soon. I don't know what will happen, but I am encouraged that God will pull miraculous things out of his creation. Geez I wish I knew what it all meant so I could start doing something!! But another thing I have learned lately is that I need only have faith that something will happen, and take it one day at a time. If you read this, pray for me. I need to just be. Just be happy, just be faithful, just be God's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-878270387413726164?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/878270387413726164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/09/gate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/878270387413726164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/878270387413726164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/09/gate.html' title='Healing at the gate called &quot;Beautiful&quot;'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-4974019769363187857</id><published>2010-09-02T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T18:51:20.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Go!"</title><content type='html'>Then Jesus came to them and said "All authority on heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go..."&lt;br /&gt;--rev. Jonathan Beck--&lt;br /&gt;---The following space is provided for notations from today's message---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to God) &lt;br /&gt;be Passion, if you are.       &lt;br /&gt;Say something big&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are becoming pale and fat Christians.      Couch potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--"Marvin K. Mooney will you please go now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt. 28: 18-19a&lt;br /&gt;18 And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Therefore, GO!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-4974019769363187857?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/4974019769363187857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/09/go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4974019769363187857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4974019769363187857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/09/go.html' title='&quot;Go!&quot;'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-8637155699137668831</id><published>2010-08-29T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T20:00:01.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OSHCA</title><content type='html'>Unscramble the letters&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-8637155699137668831?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/8637155699137668831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/08/oshca.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8637155699137668831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8637155699137668831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/08/oshca.html' title='OSHCA'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-3202209961675827137</id><published>2010-06-28T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T20:34:05.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ooh what you say</title><content type='html'>I don't know what to write. Whenever I check out my blog site I feel like I should write something, but I get halfway through a post and scrap it or save it for later (aka scrap it). I really don't even know if people read these. I feel like I am talking to someone, although that someone could just be the computer. That would be alright, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I should read over that paragraph and edit, but I would probably cut most of it out and then I would be left with no more post. I feel like I should cut that out too. Man, I read these awesome posts that other people write that suck me in and hold me tight and show me a whole new world, and I wish I could write like that; I ache to write like that. I guess the best I can be though is myself, and if only one person reads these or if it is only between the computer and me then I would still write because I don't write for you (person reading this). Actually,thats a lie. I do write for you person reading this, but I shouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;I am tempted to scrap this post too. But I won't. I'm just going to put it out there because I am tired of acting like the person I feel I should be acting like, saying the likeable things I should be saying, scrapping who I am because I think someone else won't like it. I'm tired of not being myself. I'm tired of not being free. I'm just going to put it out there, and I will not care that they (or that YOU) will think something not cool about it. They will always think something. I guess the trick is just being okay with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-3202209961675827137?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/3202209961675827137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/06/ooh-what-you-say.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/3202209961675827137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/3202209961675827137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/06/ooh-what-you-say.html' title='ooh what you say'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-563134691033226546</id><published>2010-05-02T12:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T12:34:21.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Church, 2</title><content type='html'>So lately I don't like church services very much. Sure, the singing is nice enough (although sometimes I wonder what exactly our purpose is) and I usually don't like the sermons here because men put on preachy voices and talk about stuff that I already know. It is nice to have that time set aside for just God and to sit and think about/talk to him, but I feel like I should set aside that time for my regular week and that church time is merely acting as a substitute for my quiet time. The main thing that excites me about church now a days is the people. Today I joined a wonderful outdoor service w/ picnic lunch afterward, and it was so peaceful and quiet with the sun streaming through the trees and the lazy barbecue smoke. The people were super friendly, and the whole experience was very comfortable and inviting. I don't necessarily wish that every Sunday were like today, but I do wish that every Sunday focused more on the community of believers and not the utter direness of us all believing the same doctrine. Think about how amazing we could be.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm tired of church, just give me the body. I'm weary of Christianity, just give me Jesus. And I wonder why we don't have more of him and less of us. I wonder why we are not closer to each other. The only way I could see a real community being built up within our churches is through God, and I wonder why he hasn't been building it. Why has God built an American body like this, so pulpit and pew oriented? We are his prize, his bride, why doesn't he convict more people of our isolation from each other? God inspires sermons and allows people who are sick to be healed through prayer, he communicates and interact with us and yet still lets us build up such listless body. Why won't he whip us into shape? Why are we such a dysfunctional body, as whole, who can't agree on 2 things at once? I want more God, and less us. I want more God, I want more crazy Jesus, more spiritual guidance and utter reliance. I want more community. I want God to show me how, to show us all how.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-563134691033226546?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/563134691033226546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/05/church-2.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/563134691033226546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/563134691033226546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/05/church-2.html' title='Church, 2'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-3786771481950638799</id><published>2010-04-18T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T20:56:03.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Murder</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't written in a long while. Honestly, I haven't cared to.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't written in anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just get so sick of things sometimes, but I won't go into detail. I just think I am hard to work with sometimes (for the record the other person isn't the easiest to work with either. Would it kill you to validate a girl?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought from Easter: Do you think Jesus could have physically died of old age? Would this earth, the body, have purposefully killed him, or do you think that maybe the only way he could have died was though us? I don't know if he could have died any other way then murder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-3786771481950638799?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/3786771481950638799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/04/murder.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/3786771481950638799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/3786771481950638799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/04/murder.html' title='Murder'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-9021288831523058784</id><published>2010-03-04T22:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T22:39:50.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm too lazy to think of a good title, so whatever you'd like it to be</title><content type='html'>Is the bible my brain? What is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel as if I am just falling and falling and I know where the ground is and where the rope is but somehow I don't feel it in my hands and I slide and fall backward helpless and blind but its there and all I have to do is reach up and grab it but I don't. Why can't we just tie the rope around me and heave me up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got promoted to manager at my job.&lt;br /&gt;It comes with better pay, new keys, and a whole ton more on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I want to keep it.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I do know that I don't.&lt;br /&gt;I want to drop back down,&lt;br /&gt;I don't want the weight on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want it taking any of God's space.&lt;br /&gt;I want to quit the bike club.&lt;br /&gt;I want to do only a few things well,&lt;br /&gt;but right now I am just immobilized by nothing done very well.&lt;br /&gt;When I am busy I am stressed and I dream of a break&lt;br /&gt; but when I get one I feel so dissatisfied.&lt;br /&gt;I can't sit alone with myself anymore.&lt;br /&gt;What is going on I don't know&lt;br /&gt;but I just want to be walking the straight and narrow again.&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of trying it logically,&lt;br /&gt;because logically I am blind.&lt;br /&gt;I need help.&lt;br /&gt;I need support.&lt;br /&gt;Someone tell me that I need to quit being manager&lt;br /&gt;(but they just promoted you and gave you instructions and who else are they gonna get and this is going to be awkward because they are going to be so disappointed)&lt;br /&gt;Someone tell me that I need to quit the bike club&lt;br /&gt;(but it is not as if you go to anything and you have good connections and it encourages you to stay fit and you are friends with the president)&lt;br /&gt;Someone tell me that these things are renting space in my head and they won't go away until you make them.&lt;br /&gt;(but you really, really don't want to do this so maybe if you just hide in a hole someday you can poke your head out and it will all be gone even though this new path is where God is)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, thought vomit. I'm sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-9021288831523058784?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/9021288831523058784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-too-lazy-to-think-of-good-title-so.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/9021288831523058784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/9021288831523058784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-too-lazy-to-think-of-good-title-so.html' title='I&apos;m too lazy to think of a good title, so whatever you&apos;d like it to be'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-7856688185307483311</id><published>2010-02-01T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T15:27:46.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote</title><content type='html'>"I am the taste of pure water and the&lt;br /&gt;radiance of the sun and moon. I am the sacred&lt;br /&gt;word and the sound heard in the air, and the courage&lt;br /&gt;of human beings. I am the sweet fragrance in the&lt;br /&gt;earth and the radiance of fire; I am the life in every&lt;br /&gt;Creature and the striving of the spiritual aspirant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My eternal seed, Arjuna, is to be found in every&lt;br /&gt;creature. I am the power of  discrimination in those&lt;br /&gt;who are intelligent, and the glory of the noble.&lt;br /&gt;In those who are strong, I am strength, free from&lt;br /&gt;passion and selfish attachment. I am desire itself, if&lt;br /&gt;that desire is in harmony with the purpose of life&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Interesting quote from my translation of the Bhagavad gita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-7856688185307483311?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/7856688185307483311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/02/quote.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7856688185307483311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7856688185307483311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/02/quote.html' title='Quote'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-7368676057484013421</id><published>2010-01-20T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T22:10:59.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodnight</title><content type='html'>I am going to burrow under the covers until this night has passed.&lt;br /&gt;Literally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-7368676057484013421?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/7368676057484013421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/01/goodnight.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7368676057484013421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7368676057484013421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/01/goodnight.html' title='Goodnight'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-3708760673974905230</id><published>2010-01-02T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T20:03:21.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I want the ground to just swallow me up,&lt;br /&gt;or me to meld into the dirt.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish my body would disappear into the wind, like the movies.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I could become part of the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;When the lights are off and I can't see my hands&lt;br /&gt;and I can't see my feet&lt;br /&gt;I wish it would stay that way.&lt;br /&gt;When I am lying on the ground&lt;br /&gt;and can feel the rocks and sand pressing on my back and head&lt;br /&gt;I wish the pressure would stop and I could dissolve like water.&lt;br /&gt;When the wind blows hard&lt;br /&gt;and my hair and clothes fold against themselves&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could fold over myself into oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I could melt out the bodies limitations.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish all I could see were the thing around me,&lt;br /&gt; and I wouldn't have to look at my hands&lt;br /&gt;clumsy hands,&lt;br /&gt;legs,&lt;br /&gt;slow legs,&lt;br /&gt;face,&lt;br /&gt;blemished, aging face.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could be part of the ground, the wind, the dark,&lt;br /&gt;an existence in the things around me,&lt;br /&gt;because then I wouldn't have to worry about what I could or could not do&lt;br /&gt;and I would only be seen as the unmovable earth,&lt;br /&gt;a force not a person.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes that's all I want&lt;br /&gt;to be a force&lt;br /&gt;to not have to make human decisions&lt;br /&gt;human mistakes&lt;br /&gt;be human clumsy&lt;br /&gt;human stupid&lt;br /&gt;Human.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-3708760673974905230?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/3708760673974905230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/01/sometimes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/3708760673974905230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/3708760673974905230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2010/01/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-7543285183321931024</id><published>2009-12-30T18:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T15:39:22.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story</title><content type='html'>Wow, I can't believe I only had one post this month. I attribute it to laziness. How come the times that we have the most free time are the times that we get the least done?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just started reading the new Donald Miller book, A Million Miles and a Thousand Years, or something like that. I haven't gotten very far. Don talks about our stories, how they compare to the stories in the movies. Some producers wanted to make a movie based on one of his books, but they had to jazz it up because his book would be boring on the big screen. They told him people would start stabbing each other with plastic straws halfway through the movie. I wonder if my book would be boring on the big screen. I would wish it wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mentor Kara let me borrow the book (thanks Kevin and Kara). It made her and someone else she knew cry, but at different parts, and she wondered if/at what part it would make me cry. I cried within the first 20 pages. I don't think books usually do that. Usually the crying parts are at the end. It came from a simple sentence, but I don't exactly remember the wording. I think Don just asked if our stories were worth telling. All my life I have just wanted it to mean something, and now this simple question and the answer felt like no. It really wasn't that big of a deal. I think I have just been emotional lately and anything can set me off. I used to never cry. Now I feel like crying all the time. I think it is an expression of some unacknowledged longing. Maybe its a longing for a story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-7543285183321931024?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/7543285183321931024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/12/story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7543285183321931024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7543285183321931024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/12/story.html' title='Story'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-8519547567760295087</id><published>2009-12-24T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T09:23:07.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bible</title><content type='html'>Everything written in the Bible was first experienced in real life, mainly by people with emotions, earthly senses, limited bodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People lived before the bible and had meaningful relationships with God. As a little kid, I think I pictured Adam reading his King James underneath a pecan tree, Noah walking with his New Living Translation, Abraham pulling back his beard to better see his NIV. I always owned a bible and considered it synonymous with God, the fourth part of the trinity. KJ said something like "people put too much emphasis on the Bible". Don't quote me though. Maybe people do focus on it too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people believe that the Bible contains everything that has been, is, and will be, in essence God. Actually, they believe the Torah contains G-d. Some people will not throw their English translation of the Bible on the ground (I throw my bible on the ground every night after I am finished reading it). Some people will not question it, taking everything at face value, but by automatically believing everything the bible says, we retract from its value. If someone gave me a puzzle and told me it had all the pieces, having all the pieces only matters if I try to piece them together. It is only valuable if I work with it. I could have used a parachute analogy for this, but I feel like that one is a little over used.  You can imagine it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't admonish those who believe the Torah contains all that has been, is, and will be, or those that do not throw down their bible, or those who hold highly reverent Bible-views. Too much reverence can become a problem, though, when people concentrate on the Bible more than they concentrate on Jesus. The Bible can become an idol if it rises above God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone had to experience the bible before it became "The Bible". The only contains others' experiences, and the Bible didn't determine what happened, what happened determined the Bible. Real life supersedes the Bible, because the Bible only serves as a tool. It does not own us, we own the Bible. So I believe sometimes people do put to much emphasis on the Bible. I can have an epiphany from God without it coming from the Bible. He can tell me something directly to my spirit, and it need not come from the written pages of my English-translated NKJ. I do not discredit my Bible, but it is not my lifeline. Jesus is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-8519547567760295087?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/8519547567760295087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/12/bible.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8519547567760295087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8519547567760295087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/12/bible.html' title='Bible'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-4349594074828890342</id><published>2009-11-30T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T06:17:42.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumpers</title><content type='html'>I know what they are doing, those people who jump from one thing to the next.&lt;br /&gt;I know why they smoke&lt;br /&gt;and I know why they drink.&lt;br /&gt;I know why they stay up through the night&lt;br /&gt;and why they sleep through the day.&lt;br /&gt;I know why they eat.&lt;br /&gt;I know why they run.&lt;br /&gt;I know why they twitch in bed&lt;br /&gt;and why their eyes won't meet yours.&lt;br /&gt;I know what they are doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It lies in that first drag&lt;br /&gt;and that last drought.&lt;br /&gt;It lies in that first bite.&lt;br /&gt;It lies in a sleep deprived mind,&lt;br /&gt;in a fatigued body.&lt;br /&gt;It lies in that split second when whatever it is carries them away.&lt;br /&gt;They jump from one thing to the other&lt;br /&gt;because they are trying to forget,&lt;br /&gt;forget that they hate themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those people can't wait to&lt;br /&gt;get where they're going,&lt;br /&gt;forget where they were,&lt;br /&gt;and leave where they are.&lt;br /&gt;Never truly satisfied,&lt;br /&gt;they jump from one thing to the next&lt;br /&gt;searching for that one thing,&lt;br /&gt;that can for a split second&lt;br /&gt;erase their self-hate.&lt;br /&gt;I know what they are doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-4349594074828890342?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/4349594074828890342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/jumpers-part-one.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4349594074828890342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4349594074828890342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/jumpers-part-one.html' title='Jumpers'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-4203351753027635956</id><published>2009-11-24T07:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T23:52:18.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christianity (re-published)</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; &lt;a href="http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/christianity.html"&gt;Christianity&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;   I am so tired about hearing about Christianity.&lt;br /&gt;Christianity isn't about this. Christianity isn't about that. REAL Christians believe this, REAL Christians believe that. He must not be a Christian because he doesn't go to church every Sunday. She must not be a Christian because she practices lesbianism. He has a tattoo, she pierced her belly button, he looks at porn, she deals drugs. They MUST not be Christians. They don't fit our set of rules. They don't meet our requirements. They must be going to Hell.&lt;br /&gt;Man, when did Christianity become about rules?&lt;br /&gt;In acts it says that "The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch". Now I don't know if it is just the translation, but it seems to me that they didn't give themselves that name. Others gave them that title, the title of Christ followers. So when did Christianity become such an exclusive club? When did we get to decide who is following Jesus and who isn't? I have said it before, but Christianity is not the only connection to God. Jesus, his words, and the holy spirit are the only connection to God, and Christianity does not have an exclusive hold on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just get angry. People walk around like they have it all figured out, like the answer to our lives can be contained in this little box called Christianity. I am done with Christianity. I will go to church, I will read my beloved bible (favorite book in my collection), I will pray, I will encourage others, I will strive to die to myself daily, and I will try to follow Jesus in everything but I will no longer let myself by constrained by the harrowing shackles of this Christianity in which people believe. I will no longer buy in to the idea of an exclusive hold on God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am probably going to regret this tomorrow when the comments start coming in, but I am just so tired of it. I feel as if I can't go back to this exclusive Christianity, yet everything inside of me cringes when I try to think of a church outside of "Christianity". Maybe I am just struggling with too many "brick wall" Christianities (Velvet Elvis reference). Maybe I just need to get on to my trampoline and jump higher and higher and higher. Maybe that's where I will find my true life, not in the brick walls but in the Christianity of the sky. Man, I just want to live!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-4203351753027635956?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/4203351753027635956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/christianity-re-published.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4203351753027635956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4203351753027635956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/christianity-re-published.html' title='Christianity (re-published)'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-7299852414118939473</id><published>2009-11-23T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T20:30:49.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Otto</title><content type='html'>We have an atheist religions teacher here at Centenary, and at first it surprised me, almost offended me. But I like him. He is my FYE (first year experience) professor, and although he works our butts off, I feel like he has a really good view of life. Except...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever met someone who was so alive, except for the fact that he is dead? I know plenty of people: aunts, neighbors, students, my FYE professor. They understand that it is about trying to live a great life, they try so hard, but they lack the life to get up and walk. They have no God to raise them from the dead. Like corpses they lie in their graves and wait as they slowly meld back into the mud. They have no hope, they have no life. And even worse, they don't even realize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My professor has a good outlook. He works hard, cares for others strives to be a better person for the sake of those around him. But he lacks one thing, Jesus, and without it all that he does is worth nothing. Nothing. God is the center of the universe, the alpha and omega, and however much I may stray and rebel, however I act, I will always always acknowledge that He is my God and without Him I would be nothing. I would be mud; I would be dead. I am so sad for my professor. He would make such a great live person. I think he would be happier, too. But he just sits in his office, eyes on the screen typing away, as his body slowly melds back into the mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not to say I disagree with having an atheist religions professor. In fact I like it. I think Christians have the bad habit of thinking they are the only religion out there, or at least the only one that counts. I don't think we should be any more offended at an atheist religions teacher than a Hindu should be offended at a Christian one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-7299852414118939473?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/7299852414118939473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/dr-otto.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7299852414118939473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7299852414118939473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/dr-otto.html' title='Dr. Otto'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-4749550622554396904</id><published>2009-11-09T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T17:23:53.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeding the Five Thousand</title><content type='html'>I recently heard a interpretation of the feeding of the five thousand, and I want to see if anyone has any thoughts about this particular miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This interpretation says Jesus did not magically create more bread and more fishes. He took the generosity of one boy, blessed the meager fish and bread, and ordered the disciples to pass around the food. As the baskets went around, those who had no food took what they needed, but the example and essence of Jesus encouraged those who had food to put some of what they had into the baskets. This is how there came to be so much extra food, and I guess one could consider it miraculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like this story. I often wondered how Jesus created more food. It's not that I doubt Jesus' power, and I totally believe he has the ability to magically multiply food (like the widows oil and flour). But I thought it weird to be one of the disciples passing around the food. The little boy did not give very much, so I wondered when the food actually multiplied. Was it like the movies, where a person reaches into the basket and in the quick second that her hand covers the bread another one appears? Did it happen as Jesus blessed the food? Was there a big mob and in the confusion no one bothered to keep count? That sort of miracle seems oddly mystical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends pointed out that in Jesus' miracles, he didn't often create something out of nothing. He raised the dead, but the bodies were already there. He turned water into wine, but the wine didn't pour out of an empty jar. He healed people, walked on water, slipped through crowds without a hand grabbing at him, but none of these required him creating matter out of nothing. Now I don't discount the traditional interpretation of the feeding of five thousand, but this way brings a whole new dimension to the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are required to follow Jesus. Even in his death, his greatest and most difficult task, we are asked to follow. It seems like with all of his miracles, we are able to follow. So with this interpretation of the "feeding of the five-thousand" miracle, we should be able to follow. We should  live the life prescribed to us in the scriptures, no matter how pointless it seems, and trust that the influence of our actions will spread. We should believe that our seemingly futile actions of self-sacrifice can affect the lives of those around us. We should believe that somehow our little bread and fish can feed the five thousand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-4749550622554396904?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/4749550622554396904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/feeding-five-thousand.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4749550622554396904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/4749550622554396904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/11/feeding-five-thousand.html' title='Feeding the Five Thousand'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-1172465626269264064</id><published>2009-10-22T20:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T18:05:24.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoe boxes</title><content type='html'>What are we doing?&lt;br /&gt;What are we doing here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people we see in the streets&lt;br /&gt;are not the people that exist.&lt;br /&gt;They are only the images in shoe boxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cardboard diorama.&lt;br /&gt;Pin up a play house, a toy car, a necktie.&lt;br /&gt;Paste an advertisement cutout,&lt;br /&gt;a movie quote,&lt;br /&gt;a printout of song lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;And hold it over your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to carry,&lt;br /&gt;and it does the talking.&lt;br /&gt;We don't even need to show our face.&lt;br /&gt;Plus its pretty.&lt;br /&gt;Much prettier than dirt.&lt;br /&gt;We are all just dirt.&lt;br /&gt;Who could love dirt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are we doing?&lt;br /&gt;What are we doing here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plants do not grow out of plastic,&lt;br /&gt;or cardboard dioramas.&lt;br /&gt;We are more than flimsy cutouts.&lt;br /&gt;People are much more than just who they are.&lt;br /&gt;They are also what they could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-1172465626269264064?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/1172465626269264064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/shoe-boxes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1172465626269264064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1172465626269264064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/shoe-boxes.html' title='Shoe boxes'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-5336033218577724972</id><published>2009-10-11T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T11:08:34.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been raining for a while</title><content type='html'>So I realized that I don't really write about my life. I just throw out the crazy ideas I've been thinking about, but I guess the bible tells a lot about people's lives. Not that that means I need to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been raining constantly. They failed to tell me that it rains so much in Louisiana. I love it; there is something about the gray that makes me happy. I am in that place where all the people I know here have past that initial friendly phase and the real friendships need to be built. It makes me want to go spill my life to every person I know and hide in my room all at the same time. I don't want to be real because I feel like the real me just says the wrong things at the wrong times in the wrong way. But I really am tired of being alone.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, reading over this makes me feel like one of those lonely bloggers who sits in his room and spills his life on the computer because he is too scared to do it for real. Oh well, I really don't care who reads this. Honestly, I would be fine if no one read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking about mentorship again. I ask for someone to mentor, someone to walk beside me, and someone to mentor me practically every day. I feel like I need it.&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends said that before you get married you should find out about yourself, because you have to be able to explain yourself to your spouse. I think that is really true. I want to find out about myself more, but I don't know how or where to begin. Even if I choose not to get married, I still think it is a good thing to know. How can I give myself to people if I don't know exactly what I am giving? And this applies to friendships as much as relationships. Everything I do should be giving myself to other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain makes me wish I were doing something important. It makes me want to sit back and be satisfied with what I am doing. Right now I just sit back and wish I hadn't put off what I was supposed to be doing. Wish I weren't so scared of things. Wish I were more motivated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I have to go work on art now. I am thinking of declaring an art major, maybe with a religious studies minor. I've decided to drop chemistry because it was just taking too much of my time. It is a good thing. In my art class we were supposed to be sketching everyday, but I haven't done any so now I have like 40 drawings to do in my sketch book before Tuesday. Gah, plus an art project, plus a paper. I love art, but it really is time consuming. I am tempted to just save this as a draft, or read over it and revise it. I think I am just gonna post it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-5336033218577724972?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/5336033218577724972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-been-raining-for-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/5336033218577724972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/5336033218577724972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-been-raining-for-while.html' title='It&apos;s been raining for a while'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-2080437594492804137</id><published>2009-10-06T20:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T20:59:20.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The World</title><content type='html'>Jesus often refers to "the world". Do not conform to the ways of the world, for the world hates me, etc. What is "the world"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-2080437594492804137?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/2080437594492804137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2080437594492804137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2080437594492804137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/world.html' title='The World'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-8635517721321773445</id><published>2009-10-05T16:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T17:17:30.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayer, Does it Really Work?</title><content type='html'>So I unlocked my mailbox the other day to find those words printed neatly on to a church flier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Prayer, Does it Really Work?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathed a quick laugh, and were I something other than a college student who receives next to no mail, I would have placed that flier on the bottom of the stack. As it were, I just folded it up and stuck it in my pocket. Does prayer really work, I mean really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have that flier sitting next to me on my desk. Each time I read it it brings back that same feeling of indignation. Is this what prayer has become to us, a way in which we can ask God for things? Are we composed of merely needs, and can our only interaction with the one who created us be one of asking for what we do not have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are doing a whole series on this topic, and the back of the flier shows what sub-topic the pastor will be addressing each Sunday. "If God already knows, why pray?""Ask, Seek, Knock: when persistence seems pointless""What's okay to pray for?". It makes me so sad. I read  these and think that these people are missing so much of what God really is, what life really is. Pray for anything, everything! Whatever you are thinking about, struggling with, wanting, feeling, needing, communicate it. Share it in everyday possible, in everything you do. Your prayer should never cease. It isn't just words, it isn't just asking for something. It isn't a game. Pray without ceasing, ever condition yourself to face God in your actions, words, thoughts. Prayer is the speech of the living; if you have been raised from the dead then everything you do is prayer. If you love God then you ever strive for a better glimpse of him, a more clear image, a brighter picture, because that is your life. If you love God then praying without ceasing will come naturally because all you want in life is him. To not pray kills you on the inside. It is worse than pain, worse than prison, worse than poverty. To not pray is to cut yourself off from God, and I would rather cut off my right arm than be cut off from God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So these are all the sub-topics. Any comments?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*If God Already Knows, Why Pray?&lt;br /&gt;.....because you love him. If you love someone you express yourself to him or her, and telling God what you want is another way of expressing yourself. All you really need is him anyways&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Ask, Seek, Knock: When Persistence Seems Pointless&lt;br /&gt;.....I don't know as much about this one, but it seems to me that if you really want something you won't get tired of asking for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Unanswered Prayer&lt;br /&gt;.....That's the hardest because all prayer is answered just not all are answered yes, so unanswered prayer probably indicates communication interference. It would seem to me that something isn't getting through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Prayer and Physical Healing&lt;br /&gt;.....I have no experience on this on. Any comments?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*What's Okay to Pray For?&lt;br /&gt;.....Anything. I think God can correct you if anything is misplaced, but just don't stop praying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-8635517721321773445?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/8635517721321773445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/prayer-does-it-really-work.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8635517721321773445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8635517721321773445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/prayer-does-it-really-work.html' title='Prayer, Does it Really Work?'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-8430295306082830022</id><published>2009-10-04T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T20:23:45.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Backwards, or outside the linear</title><content type='html'>"Fled and him left all.&lt;br /&gt;They and fulfilled be scriptures,&lt;br /&gt;the let but me seize not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you and teaching temple&lt;br /&gt;the in you with was I day after day.&lt;br /&gt;Me capture to clubs and swords,&lt;br /&gt;with robber a against.&lt;br /&gt;As out come you,&lt;br /&gt;have them to said Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;And ear his off cut,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and priest high&lt;br /&gt;the of servant.&lt;br /&gt;The stuck&lt;br /&gt;and sword his drew,&lt;br /&gt;by stood who? Those of one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But him seized and him on hands laid they.&lt;br /&gt;And him kissed he, and Rabbi said.&lt;br /&gt;And once at him to up went he,&lt;br /&gt;came he, when and guard under away&lt;br /&gt;him led and him seize."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Man the is kiss. Will I one?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The saying sign&lt;br /&gt;a them given,&lt;br /&gt;had betrayer the now elders&lt;br /&gt;the and scribes&lt;br /&gt;the and priests chief.&lt;br /&gt;The from clubs and swords&lt;br /&gt;with crowd&lt;br /&gt;a him with and twelve.&lt;br /&gt;The of one came Judas.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking still was he&lt;br /&gt;while immediately"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and..." back again,&lt;br /&gt;every day, story of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-8430295306082830022?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/8430295306082830022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/backwards-or-outside-linear.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8430295306082830022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/8430295306082830022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/backwards-or-outside-linear.html' title='Backwards, or outside the linear'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-2797354625008393576</id><published>2009-10-03T20:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T20:12:36.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Status Quo</title><content type='html'>**  http://www.folkways.si.edu/listen2.aspx?type=preview&amp;amp;trackid=15821  **&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All hail the mighty status quo, determinant of our actions and ruler of our thoughts. The people make him king over all of the nations of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can not serve two masters&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-2797354625008393576?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/2797354625008393576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/status-quo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2797354625008393576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2797354625008393576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/10/status-quo.html' title='Status Quo'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-1845743657602147282</id><published>2009-09-25T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T18:57:01.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Speak</title><content type='html'>I have this speaking problem. I always want to be right, and if I am not sure about something I will not say it. I don't seem to say much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I am never going to be right. In FYE class we established that pretty much everything is arguable, and I am never going to be in a position where any of my beliefs are purely correct. If they are not purely correct, they are wrong, and I need to be okay with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe my beliefs are skewed. Sin skews things. The devil can not create something new, he can only skew what God already created.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything that exists is God, so if it isn't God, it doesn't exist. Some of the things I worship are not God. Some of them don't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think from now on I am just going to say whats on my mind, and whenever I am wrong someone will tell me. And I will become better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need some limit though. I would not discuss sex or starvation or quantum physics with a 3 year old. Prudence is considering the strength and maturity of the audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dead man is not able to say anything, his attempts are just empty words with no more influence than, well, nothing. but I am not dead so my speech has influence.I should probably learn more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-1845743657602147282?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/1845743657602147282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/speak.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1845743657602147282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1845743657602147282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/speak.html' title='Speak'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-7634605999175783451</id><published>2009-09-24T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T21:00:46.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal</title><content type='html'>Because of the fall we, humans, try to create a different version of ourselves than the one which God created. Why would they choose to make the Tower of Babel out of bricks, not stone, especially for something that would reach "heaven"? Man makes bricks out of dirt, the same substance from which he is made.  So in essence the Tower of Babel represented man trying to, on his own, build this new, human created form up to God.&lt;br /&gt;They built the tower because they didn't want to be scattered, yet God scattered as a punishment for building the tower. Ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always imagined Abram in a tent or two with his small circle of children when God called them to leave for a new land. I didn't see his departure as an exceptionally hard choice, excepting the strain that comes from moving to a new place. It is true that he didn't know to where he was following God, but that seemed like the only real difficult part of the situation. He didn't live by himself in a few tents, he lived in a city, a small empire built with his father and mother, brothers and sisters, family judges, family livestock, and example of the completed promise of many offspring. God called Abram away from this full-grown, prosperous set up. He had the logical promise of all that a good man of that time could want to inherit, and God called him away.  Abram literally gave up the inheritance of a nation for the inheritance that God offered him. One offered stability with the promise of a solid, pre-established system, and the other offered limitless possibilities (that means death and the loss of the family name as well as recognition and a great nation) with no base on which to establish a nation, not even a fertile wife. When God offers for us to walk together, it goes away from everything we ever wanted and offers nothing at all in face value. We must literally walk away with no hope of getting anything at all from the decision. Christians must be lemmings, following God where ever he goes even if it is off a cliff. We must become almost self-destructive, losing all regard for ourselves for the sake of this unexplainable love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sacrifice is ugly. Sacrifice is gross and bloody. When I think of sacrifice, I think of a paster with a self appreciating smile on his face speaking metaphorically from the podium of a serene chapel. Sacrifice doesn't bring smiles, at least not a smile for yourself. A happiness for the person who benefitted from the sacrifice causes a smile, but the slaughtered thinking at all of himself will not bring a smile. If it is a real sacrifice, the slaughtered loses life. It becomes fractured, no longer whole by itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-7634605999175783451?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/7634605999175783451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/journal.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7634605999175783451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/7634605999175783451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/journal.html' title='Journal'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-6407244058149853338</id><published>2009-09-14T22:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T20:17:01.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The tree</title><content type='html'>The tree still rains even after the storm has passed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-6407244058149853338?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/6407244058149853338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/tree.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/6407244058149853338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/6407244058149853338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/tree.html' title='The tree'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-6718368402197723236</id><published>2009-09-09T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T15:12:45.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Changing Station Experiment</title><content type='html'>Baby changing stations are the little fold down tables found in restrooms, usually imprinted with a koala or cartoon child. One sample declared a weight capacity of 50 lbs, but the baby changing station definitely holds more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Purpose: Test how much mass an average baby changing station will hold before breaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start ideas off slowly.&lt;br /&gt;1. Use actual babies or toddlers, striving for abnormally heavy builds, and methodically place them on changing stations found at various locations. Use multiple subjects at one time to maximize weight, in addition to diaper bags and siblings. Start with the heaviest subjects and slowly add weight until the station breaks.&lt;br /&gt;Pros: convenient test location&lt;br /&gt;Cons: either felony if broken tables left unacknowledged, or expensive, changing station costs range from $140 to $450 and up; willing participants may be difficult due to risk of injury&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rejected&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Use actual metal weights, and perform the test on only the cheaper baby changing station models.&lt;br /&gt;Pros: No child injured, semi-convenient test locations&lt;br /&gt;Cons: Still expensive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rejected&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Use metal weights and test the changing stations in bathrooms scheduled for demolition.&lt;br /&gt;Pros: Cheap, no damage, no child injured&lt;br /&gt;Cons: inconvenient, communication with strangers, tests results may be skewed due to the age of the changing stations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Most logical and responsible Option&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Go to the nearest public restroom and sit on the baby changing station. If it doesn't break, bounce a little, and then declare your weight to be the holding capacity.&lt;br /&gt;Pros: Cheap, extremely convenient, maximum researcher participation&lt;br /&gt;Cons: A researcher significantly larger than a baby will almost always break the changing station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;College Student Option&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-6718368402197723236?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/6718368402197723236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/baby-changing-station-experiment.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/6718368402197723236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/6718368402197723236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/baby-changing-station-experiment.html' title='Baby Changing Station Experiment'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-1028092889162071757</id><published>2009-09-06T18:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T08:27:57.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Lie and the Lover</title><content type='html'>So here is the lie I have been believing lately: that God does not individually know nor love me. I don't know when I first started believing the lie, it must have crept in subtly, like the gradual setting of the sun. Only when my faith got near the horizon, near total submission beneath the hill did it become obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the constant touch of a love&lt;br /&gt;is the hand for which I long,&lt;br /&gt;and I know not how it comes&lt;br /&gt;nor the being to which it belongs.&lt;br /&gt;But I know without lie&lt;br /&gt;that for it I long&lt;br /&gt;because with it I&lt;br /&gt;am so inexorably intertwined&lt;br /&gt;that its absence takes with it&lt;br /&gt;my very essence of being.&lt;br /&gt;And I long for it though&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know&lt;br /&gt;how it comes,&lt;br /&gt;nor even what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They talk of it&lt;br /&gt;as if they hate it.&lt;br /&gt;They tell me it is a monster&lt;br /&gt;that subtly rips my flesh&lt;br /&gt;and leaves me&lt;br /&gt;a dry shell in its&lt;br /&gt;prison of a belly&lt;br /&gt;that cares not for me&lt;br /&gt;nor my will but only&lt;br /&gt;its hungry appetite.&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes I shrink from it;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;How can I love it&lt;br /&gt;when I don't even&lt;br /&gt;know what it is&lt;br /&gt;nor from where it comes?&lt;br /&gt;I wait in the dark&lt;br /&gt;as they curse it and hate it,&lt;br /&gt;and in fear and trembling I wait alone&lt;br /&gt;because I do not know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But though this creature remains&lt;br /&gt;hidden beneath the dark&lt;br /&gt;I now know this:&lt;br /&gt;that to it I became married,&lt;br /&gt;and its flesh and mine&lt;br /&gt;intertwined&lt;br /&gt;in a pain that withdraws&lt;br /&gt;and expands and makes room&lt;br /&gt;for the creation of old and new&lt;br /&gt;past, present, and future&lt;br /&gt;and all that is&lt;br /&gt;in a strange morph;&lt;br /&gt;it is inside me.&lt;br /&gt;I will sacrifice myself&lt;br /&gt;every day as I wait&lt;br /&gt;for this love in the dark&lt;br /&gt;for this hand of the thing&lt;br /&gt;which I do not know&lt;br /&gt;what it is nor from what it comes.&lt;br /&gt;I wait for this one&lt;br /&gt;in the dark&lt;br /&gt;for whom I know&lt;br /&gt;I can no longer&lt;br /&gt;live without.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-1028092889162071757?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/1028092889162071757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-lie-and-lover.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1028092889162071757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1028092889162071757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-lie-and-lover.html' title='My Lie and the Lover'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-1862528140210671322</id><published>2009-09-05T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T22:14:01.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Righteous war, oxymoron?</title><content type='html'>Are we supposed to be new? Everything I do feels as if someone has done it before. As humans we have been eating, sleeping, and communicating for ages and ages. Everything is repeated, I just want to be free. I'm tired of wondering why a God would choose the Israelites alone and not all mankind and why He would proceed to order the death of so many of those he did not "choose". I'm tired of reading David in Psalms talk about how much God loves him, how only the blameless can be saved, and how the "evil" people, the enemies, the wicked and dirty and unlawful others will be crushed by the wrath of God. I really am not liking Psalms, because amid all of that "How great is your love, everlasting, unshakable, shelter me", amid all of the pretty power point slide verses is some wicked stuff. It catches me. It makes me wonder, am I in the group that is crushed, or am I in the group that for no reason God choose to make blameless and kill those who in the other group? Because it appears as though back then, those were the only two options. I just want to live in peace. Can I trust a God who does all of these things that I have read about?&lt;br /&gt;I know I can say that the Old Testament took place in a different context, that God stays the same in the fact that He doesn't always look the same to us, and that God will do what God will do, but why would God do that then and not be able to do it now? Why is it acceptable to kill your neighbor 4,000 years ago, but now its not? The other nations must not have been the Israelite's neighbors, they must not have been human. Dirty dog Gentiles (sounds a lot like genitalia, now that I think about it. Another unclean thing; why would an unclean thing be created at all?) deserve to be killed. They violate the laws that no one ever told them about. The same is true for those in the Middle East, or maybe those in the Middle East can say that the same is true for us. Dirty dog infidels.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to make a difference, but the more I am striving toward my goal, the more I find reasons not to continue. Yes, God ordered the killing of thousands of men, women, children, and animals. Yes, he did catalyst some holocausts. So much I want to find ways around this. So much I want to read a verse that says, "but in this battle and the massacre of thousands of people, (insert Israelite leader name here) was wrong, and God's anger burned at the sight of the undeserved killing". I haven't yet found that verse, and I don't think it exists. It must have been deserved.&lt;br /&gt;Did Jesus really change things that much? And I don't really want to hear from the typical evangelical Christian about this, because I have heard the answer before and it doesn't take me anywhere. I want what I want for every question I ask: an answer that will not stop me in my journey with a false sense of security but one that will carry me forward into more questions, more answers, more questions. I don't want a neat little package of words, I want a canvas I can actually paint on.&lt;br /&gt;So why, why did Jesus change things if he changed them at all? Did he simply offer a new facet of what already existed, or did he really drastically change the rules of the game? Possibly more important, is God still the same? Would He still order a righteous massacre of thousands of people? Is there still such a thing, and if not what made it go away?&lt;br /&gt;I want to do something new.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-1862528140210671322?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/1862528140210671322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/righteous-war-oxymoron.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1862528140210671322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/1862528140210671322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/09/righteous-war-oxymoron.html' title='Righteous war, oxymoron?'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-874308219138174844</id><published>2009-08-31T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T22:15:42.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Night-time, and Cicadas Ring Incessantly</title><content type='html'>Ever look around you and wonder what you are doing here?&lt;br /&gt;Shreveport, Louisiana, really? How did I get here, and why? Why would I come here? Maybe tomorrow I will wake up to a city reincarnate in the morning light. Maybe a new type of grass will grow, and maybe my legs will take me somewhere I want to be. Maybe I will not sit on my computer all day or eat a quarter package of Oreos. I find myself tonight standing on the edge of a diving board, but I can step off, let alone jump. It kind of feels like those dreams in which I can not respond to someone who is chasing or attacking me, in which I just sit there a take it, my whirling somewhere outside of my body. Inside my brain hits a black spot. I want so badly to do something worthwhile, something challenging in which I am fully capable, something that makes me feel useful. I want to do something useful. I feel so alone, too. Not in the depressed sense, but in the sense that I share my convictions with no one. I want to share dreams with someone. I want to know that the things that I want to be, want to do are not detrimental. I want affirmation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading the bible, found that "God is a righteous judge, a God who expressses his wrath everyday." I wonder how God is going to express his wrath tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-874308219138174844?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/874308219138174844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/08/ever-look-around-you-and-wonder-what.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/874308219138174844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/874308219138174844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/08/ever-look-around-you-and-wonder-what.html' title='Night-time, and Cicadas Ring Incessantly'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-116156347400773923</id><published>2009-08-23T18:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T18:51:09.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The bible has a lot of quirks</title><content type='html'>So I have decided to read though the Bible because I have never completely read it, and I have heard it is a profitable thing to do. It may just be me, but I like to know what exactly I am dedicating my life too, because it definately isn't just the chapel choir singing "How Great is Our God" while the congregation sings along with raised hands and swaying hips. That should be the product of the thing for which I am dedicating my life, not the cause. I do not know God because I go and sing with soul, I sing with soul because I know God. I think that concept is often confused. People forget that God is not in the church, the church is in God. God is so much more than what we include in our man made institution we call "Christianity". I think it is interesting that Judiasm is a specific following created by God, but Christianity isn't. We created Christianity, and it is not the only way to Heaven. Jesus is.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am in the book of Psalms as of this week. It has taken about a year, maybe a year and a half, to get this far. The whole questioning mentality opens so many doors for thought and makes the bible alive. Like usually I would skim over most of the laws and then forget about them, but now I am looking back at some that I read with new eyes. For example, if a Israelite raped a girl (specifically a virgin), those two would have to get married. Would you want to marry the man that raped you? I wouldn't. There may have been a cultural difference that lessoned the shock value of this law. Marriage were arranged for stratigical purposes, so I don't think that would have been as contreversial as it might be now in the time of "soul mates to love and cherish forever". It would actually be a punishment for the man because he would have to pay a large dowry, and the marriage wouldn't neccesarily have any gain. Still, this is God's law, and it strikes me as odd. If a son can get stoned for not obeying his parents, why wouldn't a rapist be stoned? Is there any inherant sin in not obeying your parents that doesn't exist in the raping of a virgin? I mean, technically if she were a virgin it wouldn't be breaking any law other than the one that requires you to love your neighbor as yourself, whereas disobeying a parent is deliberate rebellion agianst the authority that God has set above the son. There seems to be a lot of verses speaking out against the latter as opposed to the former. Rebelling against the authority that God set above you is like rebelling against God, right?&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how often people were stoned in the Jewish community. How often is someone executed on death row?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-116156347400773923?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/116156347400773923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/08/bible-has-lot-of-quirks.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/116156347400773923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/116156347400773923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/08/bible-has-lot-of-quirks.html' title='The bible has a lot of quirks'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6233240284462674731.post-2341468691761204758</id><published>2009-08-21T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T14:14:26.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just be</title><content type='html'>Just be.&lt;br /&gt;God at the center,&lt;br /&gt;All of us within.&lt;br /&gt;Disagree,&lt;br /&gt;Talk with me,&lt;br /&gt;or stay home.&lt;br /&gt;But just be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just be.&lt;br /&gt;Independent,&lt;br /&gt;No work turns time,&lt;br /&gt;but silence&lt;br /&gt;and stillness&lt;br /&gt;turns minds.&lt;br /&gt;So just be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just be.&lt;br /&gt;The world goes fast&lt;br /&gt;enough for all,&lt;br /&gt;and programs'&lt;br /&gt;rigidity&lt;br /&gt;loses souls.&lt;br /&gt;Please, just be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6233240284462674731-2341468691761204758?l=justbe-bejust.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/feeds/2341468691761204758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2341468691761204758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6233240284462674731/posts/default/2341468691761204758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://justbe-bejust.blogspot.com/2009/08/just-be.html' title='Just be'/><author><name>Bekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14755742456522659853</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-eA9nqb8-ao/SzOajy2aOfI/AAAAAAAAAAc/JCUf6oKlGHk/S220/tree.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
