<?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-3321030016909841696</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:18:56.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Peculiar Treasure</title><subtitle type='html'>Exodus 19:5 "Now therefore, if ye will obey my voice indeed, and keep my covenant, then ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto me above all people: for all the earth is mine" 

I'm just a peculiar treasure walking the path that God has planned for me as His instrument of glory. Won't you join me?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-3254583414725658035</id><published>2011-06-21T19:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T20:08:29.237-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A year in pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been so long that I have been consistent in my writing that I decided to sum up my year in pictures...it was fun exercise, reminding me of some great memories. Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-abfDQSV3FfI/TgEvJ1VnW8I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Nl0I6PcIar8/s1600/24107_381408931902_674491902_4034041_8256926_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-abfDQSV3FfI/TgEvJ1VnW8I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Nl0I6PcIar8/s320/24107_381408931902_674491902_4034041_8256926_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620825655918156738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal; "&gt;April:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Summer Love's birthday...notice how similar taylor and I look? haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--xRjCSo4XKk/TgEvJ4cm5HI/AAAAAAAAAKI/lCaJ6LU4x8g/s1600/P5080053.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--xRjCSo4XKk/TgEvJ4cm5HI/AAAAAAAAAKI/lCaJ6LU4x8g/s320/P5080053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620825656752792690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;May:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Keys with my mom, Crystal and her mom and Chelsea. Fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qJTKFioWaG4/TgEvJbAnyII/AAAAAAAAAKA/YnPpRTjmo3c/s1600/P7020069.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qJTKFioWaG4/TgEvJbAnyII/AAAAAAAAAKA/YnPpRTjmo3c/s320/P7020069.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620825648850782338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;June:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;An example of the hilarious quotes that end up on our house quote board&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLxb373u6yw/TgEvJG0AlTI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Lcy8QmFtzsM/s1600/P7110078.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RLxb373u6yw/TgEvJG0AlTI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Lcy8QmFtzsM/s320/P7110078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620825643429172530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;July:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Taylor moves in! We are room neighbors!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-luSPjhSQdF0/TgEuRFNhKwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/8LBR9jg5Tms/s1600/45718_10150234106530023_537455022_14161953_3089771_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-luSPjhSQdF0/TgEuRFNhKwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/8LBR9jg5Tms/s320/45718_10150234106530023_537455022_14161953_3089771_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620824680926620418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;August:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I graduated from undergrad and went with these two to New Orleans!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KyOe2fTEepw/TgEuQiDHm8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/LDRRA4kpAE8/s1600/P7110076.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KyOe2fTEepw/TgEuQiDHm8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/LDRRA4kpAE8/s320/P7110076.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620824671487761346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;September:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;My beautiful room :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AHIaVroSviY/TgEuQa9aPeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/QZK3GDwvMcE/s1600/retreat.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AHIaVroSviY/TgEuQa9aPeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/QZK3GDwvMcE/s320/retreat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620824669584768482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;October:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A strange picture, I know. But this was the retreat where I met my sweetheart, David Healy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dsmrjznKvec/TgEuQLaEdfI/AAAAAAAAAJY/CrQuT5_D96Y/s1600/PB130059.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dsmrjznKvec/TgEuQLaEdfI/AAAAAAAAAJY/CrQuT5_D96Y/s320/PB130059.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620824665410008562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;November: &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Mom and I at a FSU football game with Chief Osceola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S20RO9RRZkE/TgEuPjv3S7I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/M0qBJnGDgCE/s1600/PC020090.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S20RO9RRZkE/TgEuPjv3S7I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/M0qBJnGDgCE/s320/PC020090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620824654764002226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;November: &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;Got my tattoo-- elpis, "Hope" in greek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zSWVr3JGZf8/TgEs-ayiOAI/AAAAAAAAAJI/dFlaA85BHpI/s1600/IMG_0047.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 275px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zSWVr3JGZf8/TgEs-ayiOAI/AAAAAAAAAJI/dFlaA85BHpI/s320/IMG_0047.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620823260789880834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;     December:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Christmas day on the beach with my family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P3807JHj1zE/TgEs92IBEGI/AAAAAAAAAJA/YDxuwfKPQgo/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P3807JHj1zE/TgEs92IBEGI/AAAAAAAAAJA/YDxuwfKPQgo/s320/IMG_0121.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620823250947870818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;January:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;David and I missed each other so much so he drove down to see me for 3 days...I introduced him to Ikea and I think he liked it! ;-) Well, at least he liked pretending to live in the houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tFfURijGbKQ/TgEs9Uc2FtI/AAAAAAAAAI4/xZDfqbZ8iHc/s1600/339.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tFfURijGbKQ/TgEs9Uc2FtI/AAAAAAAAAI4/xZDfqbZ8iHc/s320/339.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620823241908426450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Feb/March:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;DANGIT, stupid computer left the Feb picture out...pretend. It was pic of Crystal and I on our carribean cruise all dressed up!! And for &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;March, David and I spent 2 beach vacations with family in two different places all in one weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H7qDNu42J_c/TgEs9A8VLQI/AAAAAAAAAIw/EhvLNlMtA4U/s1600/IMG_3135.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H7qDNu42J_c/TgEs9A8VLQI/AAAAAAAAAIw/EhvLNlMtA4U/s320/IMG_3135.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620823236671778050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;April:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;      &lt;/span&gt;Easter at David's family's house. :-)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...Have no pics for the next 2 months. It was nice to look through the last year and see God's grace in my life and His many blessings. It is always good to count them! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-3254583414725658035?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/3254583414725658035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2011/06/year-in-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/3254583414725658035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/3254583414725658035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2011/06/year-in-pictures.html' title='A year in pictures'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-abfDQSV3FfI/TgEvJ1VnW8I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Nl0I6PcIar8/s72-c/24107_381408931902_674491902_4034041_8256926_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-1317483070795711551</id><published>2011-04-11T12:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T12:06:28.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Prone to Wander</title><content type='html'>It has been awhile, dear bloggers. But I have missed writing what I am learning...it helps me so much to apply it to my life. So I pray that it speaks to your heart and encourages you to action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“Sarah, I wonder if you could look at it as if Christ is your husband and He sits waiting for you with open arms while you play the harlot, running from Him?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;These kind and ever so gentle words (ha) from my mentor Jeanie felt like a ball of fire that bounced off every uncomfortable corner of anything hidden in my heart, exposing and enlightening until nothing was left uncovered. You can imagine how shocked my face looked at this point in time. I had no words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She was right; I was running. I was rebellious. I was angry. I wanted to sin and keep doing it and I was finally going to choose my path and not feel a twinge of guilt. I had succeeded in hardening my heart and had almost made it through her interrogation unscathed. The comment felt like the horns of Jericho supernaturally knocking down what I had thought was a carefully constructed fortress. I was down for the count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Hosea could have given Jeanie a run for her money. When God chose him to speak to the nation of Israel, his first instructions were to marry a harlot. Thus Hosea became an example of God and his wife who had been a harlot, Israel. I never knew there were such rich treasures in this prophetic book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In Hosea 2:2-5, the Lord speaks of Israel’s unfaithfulness. He says, “Plead with your mother, plead- for she is not my wife and I am not her husband-that she put away her whoring from her face…for their mother has played the whore; she who conceived them has acted shamefully.” Quite a pill to swallow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Israel had been worshipping other gods in the pagan countries around them. When there was famine or drought, they would worship Baal instead of their own One True God. (1 Kings 18-19) They had broken their “marriage” covenant with the Lord by being unfaithful—in Jewish law this was punishable by death. But God disciplined and did not destroy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;As I studied this passage, I couldn’t help but recognize how my own heart has done this so many times. It’s easy to point at Israel and see how different and sinful they were. But what reasons did Israel chase after other gods?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;1) They were &lt;b&gt;rebellious sinners&lt;/b&gt;. Isaiah says we are all sinners, and that none are good. We have all turned aside. (Is. 53:6) I know I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;2) They &lt;b&gt;exposed themselves intimately&lt;/b&gt; in the culture around them. I.e. through marriage, etc… They had become “of” the world, not just “in” the world. 1John 2:15-17) Our culture has unfortunately crept further than it is welcome into the Truth of Scripture and the lives of believers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;3) When trials struck, they &lt;b&gt;placed their hope in something else&lt;/b&gt;. They did not trust God to provide. How often do we rely on our own strength or on the strength of our friends, family, alcohol, etc.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Suddenly, Israel doesn’t seem so different, do they? They were just screw-ups like us and yet God had mercy on them. And He would eventually extend that mercy to the rest of the sinful world. (John 3:16) That means He has extended that grace to us. Even while we were sinners, that is when Christ died. (Romans 5:8) No matter how much of a “whore” we have been. No matter how deep in the hurt of our lives we have dug ourselves. He waits with open arms. All He asks is for faith that He is enough. We simply must believe and follow Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;For me, it is a constant turning back around and running back to his arms. My husband has infinite grace and mercy, infinite love that He never holds back no matter how much I may hurt Him, and infinite power to constantly be working in my heart and changing it daily to be more and more like him. Why would I want to run?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;i&gt;  &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it. Seal it for Thy courts above.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-1317483070795711551?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/1317483070795711551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2011/04/prone-to-wander.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/1317483070795711551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/1317483070795711551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2011/04/prone-to-wander.html' title='Prone to Wander'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-8857966076432526240</id><published>2010-09-11T14:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T14:06:42.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting Pictures of Egypt</title><content type='html'>Sometimes songs say it best...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Painting Pictures Of Egypt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to leave here &lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to stay &lt;br /&gt;It feels like pinching to me either way &lt;br /&gt;The places I long for the most &lt;br /&gt;Are the places where I’ve been &lt;br /&gt;They are calling after me like a long lost friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s not about losing faith &lt;br /&gt;It’s not about trust &lt;br /&gt;It’s all about comfortable &lt;br /&gt;When you move so much &lt;br /&gt;The place I was wasn’t perfect &lt;br /&gt;But I had found a way to live &lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t milk or honey &lt;br /&gt;But then neither is this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS: &lt;br /&gt;I’ve been painting pictures of Egypt &lt;br /&gt;Leaving out what it lacked &lt;br /&gt;The future seems so hard &lt;br /&gt;And I want to go back &lt;br /&gt;But the places that used to fit me &lt;br /&gt;Cannot hold the things I"ve learned &lt;br /&gt;And those roads closed off to me &lt;br /&gt;While my back was turned &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past is so tangible &lt;br /&gt;I know it by heart &lt;br /&gt;Familiar things are never easy to discard &lt;br /&gt;I was dying for some freedom &lt;br /&gt;But now I hesitate to go &lt;br /&gt;Caught between the promise &lt;br /&gt;And the things I know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BRIDGE: &lt;br /&gt;If it comes too quick &lt;br /&gt;I may not recognize it &lt;br /&gt;Is that the reason behind all this time and sand? &lt;br /&gt;If it comes too quick &lt;br /&gt;I may not appreciate it &lt;br /&gt;Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-8857966076432526240?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/8857966076432526240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2010/09/painting-pictures-of-egypt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/8857966076432526240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/8857966076432526240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2010/09/painting-pictures-of-egypt.html' title='Painting Pictures of Egypt'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-4885570544943219399</id><published>2010-06-07T16:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T16:27:25.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here</title><content type='html'>I've never given up so much for You&lt;br /&gt;I've never been quick to obey&lt;br /&gt;But this time I knew the voice was You&lt;br /&gt;And so I gave all I gave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve heard it said that when You’re needed most&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it seems that You’re not there&lt;br /&gt;So it’s been hard to love the choice I chose &lt;br /&gt;When it seemed to me You’d all but disappeared &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now You’re here just like the sun after the rain&lt;br /&gt;And now You’re here just like the calm after the waves&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t mean to sound surprised that you’d be near&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday I wasn’t sure&lt;br /&gt;Praise God You’re here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve heard that even in the eaglets’ nest, &lt;br /&gt;The mother watches when they fall&lt;br /&gt;And they would never learn to spread their wings if she came right as they called&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I'm falling in the open sky&lt;br /&gt;And it's been hard to even breathe&lt;br /&gt;I've been waiting for a Father's love to carry me&lt;br /&gt;To carry me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like the years before I met you, you were still there&lt;br /&gt;Though it took so long to see you, you were still there&lt;br /&gt;And you're still here &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Katy Kinard&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-4885570544943219399?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/4885570544943219399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2010/06/here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/4885570544943219399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/4885570544943219399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2010/06/here.html' title='Here'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-3861861804597831265</id><published>2009-12-17T14:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T14:11:11.311-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven's Glory Flood</title><content type='html'>If I were to pick a learning concept I love the most, it would be analogies. They resonate with me. So much that I feel them reach deep into my heart and pull unresolved thoughts and floating emotions to the surface of my life, rotate the puzzle pieces of my mind, and then snap them into place. The result: a beautiful picture of God’s grace. Every time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God brought me one such analogy today. I’ve been His child on the run—resisting rest, resisting reason. Wanting to do it all on my own-prove my abilities. Deep down I knew stopping would be the best. I could trust Him to meet me and fill me—or could I? Fear that seeking Him would once again be empty and fruitless kept me from stopping for weeks. If I were honest with myself, however, I would acknowledge that the empty and fruitless places came from me trying so very hard on my own strength. So I just told myself to “buck up,” I pushed forward and all the while He was gently calling me to stop and take in all He has for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally I did today. I pulled up in my heatless but dry car to the flooded Lake Ella with some praise music and my bible study. I studied Galations with John MacArthur and praised God with Meredith Andrews. Once in awhile I would glance up at the mom and pop produce stand which had inserted itself in front of the now overflowing lake. After awhile, I noticed a curious child, maybe 5 years of age, with a bowl haircut like Jesse’s twins on Full House. He was uninterested in the produce stand, nor the people in it who were now shoveling water out of their temporary location. He romped around, feeding ducks and chasing squirrels. But at some point I looked up at him and couldn’t help but laugh. He was standing out in the rain with &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;his head thrown back, mouth wide open, drinking in all the rain would give him&lt;/span&gt;. Then, almost immediately, he pulled his head up, unable to stand any more water than had already filled his mouth (and probably his lungs), and he giggled with glee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was repeated over and over again, and, as I watched his mirth, I remembered doing the same thing as a child. Such pure and untainted joy. Suddenly the analogy occurred to me. This is what God has been asking from me for weeks! I could almost hear Him saying, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Drink, Sarah. Just open your mouth, throw back your head and forget all that troubles you. I will pour my living water in you and you will thirst no more&lt;/span&gt;.” He has promised to fill me. He has promised that He is enough and so I want to believe Him. I need to believe Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, with a mouth wide open to His goodness and grace, I am resting and satisfied. May I never leave. But, when I do, let it never be for long. “This human cup cannot contain Heaven’s glory flood.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-3861861804597831265?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/3861861804597831265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/12/heavens-glory-flood.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/3861861804597831265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/3861861804597831265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/12/heavens-glory-flood.html' title='Heaven&apos;s Glory Flood'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-7355577530800811557</id><published>2009-07-10T16:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T16:27:10.018-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Hope&lt;/span&gt;. The very pronunciation of the word seems to lend a calmness and peace that drips off the tongue and lands in the soul of the hearer like a drop of clean, cool water on a July day. Whenever the word is uttered, all of us receive, whether we know it, a mental picture corresponding to its meaning. A personification of whatever or whomever we believe to be &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;. But what is it really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the past election, “&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;” has been quite the buzzword in the United States. Living in the capital of Florida, I often notice pictures of our President with that word in bold letters as I drive around town. It has certainly stirred an emotion in countless minds and hearts around the country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am sure President Obama wishes the best for us, he really has no power to give us a true &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;; an everlasting &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;. There is only one true Body of Water from which the streams of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; flow. Romans 5:1-5 teaches us that God allows suffering, and suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;. And this &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;, Paul says, does not disappoint. It will not bring us shame. Because it is rooted in the Author of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Hope&lt;/span&gt; Himself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a moment and try to think of something or someone on this earth that, if your &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; was placed upon, wouldn’t at some point bring you shame and disappointment. Could you think of anything? Hmmm…Economy? Have you read the news? Your spouse? They will disappoint. Your career? Will it last? What will happen when it’s over? Nature? Think again, nature is slowly degrading. They will all bring you shame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Hope&lt;/span&gt;, in the Biblical definition is not a “wish” as we so often think of it. The Hebrew words used often in the Bible for &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; are yachal which is translated “to expect, to wait for” and qavah which translates “to look for eagerly, to lie in wait for.” Are you getting the idea that this &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; is expectant? Don’t miss that! This &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; is secure. It is not just a flippant wish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the word picture that this &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; brings. My heart smiles as I allow my mind to go back to elementary school. At that age, my dad could do anything (I still secretly believe that). I was always so excited about him coming home everyday. Once in awhile, especially on days when my mom was trying her hardest to love me and I, in 6-year-old eyes, interpreted this as her trying her hardest to hate me, I would wait expectantly for my dad for long periods of time (30 minutes was a LONG time for a 6-year-old). I would go into the bathroom, drag the clothes hamper that was as big as I was, awkwardly position it right under my front window and sit. Watching. Waiting. I knew he was coming home. There was no doubt in my mind. If he said he was on his way, I believed him. That’s what our Heavenly Father is offering us. That kind of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; times more than we can ever imagine, and all He asks is for our faith. For us to believe Him as well as believe IN Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what does &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; mean to me? Well, let’s see…The road I’ve walked the past few months and even past year has been a hard one; a rough one. But I am truly grateful for it because God has promised me so much through &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;. He has promised grace. He has promised forgiveness. He has promised restoration—and that means the world to me. He means the world to me. If these past few months had been easy, I wouldn’t be where I am: on my face at the foot of the cross begging for God’s sustaining, loving and tender arms to hold me, hug me, gently correct me, and wipe away the tears of the shame that flow from placing my &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hopes&lt;/span&gt; in a fallen world. Without Him, I would have no &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;. Now I have &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; from not only all that He is, but also in what He will do in the world, in my life. He makes all things new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Elizabeth Elliot sums up the idea of &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; well when she says, “I don’t know, when I’m asking for something here on earth, what is going on in the innermost shrine of Heaven…I am sure of one thing: it is good….The &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt; we have is living &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;hope&lt;/span&gt;….We wait for it, in faith and patience.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Hope&lt;/span&gt; is my buzzword now. I will hold out. I will wait.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; I will not give up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-7355577530800811557?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/7355577530800811557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/07/hope.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/7355577530800811557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/7355577530800811557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/07/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-1859234559341430049</id><published>2009-06-16T13:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T13:14:09.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Believe</title><content type='html'>When there's nothing to believe in, I belive in you&lt;br /&gt;Forget the past and let my hand in yours be the proof&lt;br /&gt;Though the strong could be my company, you're the one I choose&lt;br /&gt;So remember, I believe in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it feels like every eye is watching you&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for you to fall, expecting you to lose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;But I see victory,&lt;/span&gt; so all you have to do&lt;br /&gt;Is remember, I believe in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe, even when I see you crying&lt;br /&gt;I believe, let me dream for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;When nothing comes from trying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, I believe in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;There will come a day when love will lift you out of here&lt;br /&gt;There will come a day when love will bring the truth&lt;br /&gt;There will come a day when love will free you from your fear&lt;br /&gt;And you'll remember, I believe in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe, even when I see you crying&lt;br /&gt;I believe, let me dream for you&lt;br /&gt;When nothing comes from trying&lt;br /&gt;Remember, I believe in you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-1859234559341430049?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/1859234559341430049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-believe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/1859234559341430049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/1859234559341430049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-believe.html' title='I Believe'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-5736829994932043200</id><published>2009-06-09T18:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T18:36:12.883-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Catfish Story</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had moments in your life when you think, “did that really just happen to me? Seriously?” I had one of those moments on Sunday. Although it was quite painful, it was rather humorous as well, and so I’ll share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenna and I had decided to brave the oh-so-early hour of the first service at church in order to drive to the beach, which unfortunately is now 2 hours away. Because of this, I’d just like to mention that I’ve learned how to actually plan for a beach trip. It involves things like towels, food, bathing suits and, oh yeah, sunscreen. These minor details were not always necessary when I lived about 7 ½ minutes from the beach. But, I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we arrived at the beach, we had a lovely time of swimming, laying out, and reading our current books in the sunshine. Near the end of our time, Jenna suggested a walk. I love walking on the beach! Something is so magical about walking along a shore of a massive body of water. It reminds me of how small I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked about a half mile one way and then turned around, deeply engrossed in conversation. One instant I was listening intently to Jenna talk about some deep life situation, the next instant accompanied searing pain. Something was piercing my foot. I thought I had stepped on a shell, but when I lifted my foot up, an animal was dangling from my pad of my foot. I think it was then that I started to panic. Jenna said I didn’t panic, she said I was totally calm the whole time but if that’s true, I was freaking out in my head. I wasn’t sure what was stuck to me but I yelled, “Get it off! Get it off!” I held on to Jenna as she did her best to do just that. It was then that I realized a dead catfish was stuck in my foot and not coming out. Ew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let me sit down, I need to sit down!” She helped me on the sand as a family came rushing over to lend their aid. Jenna was still tugging at my foot and I felt like the insides of my foot were going to come out with it. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Lord, please get it out. I don’t want to go to the E.R,” &lt;/span&gt;I prayed. And with that, it was out. I was light headed and in a ton of pain, but I was ok! Jenna said it was in my foot about 2 inches. The family that helped us was staying in one of the condos on the beach and they ran inside to get us water, hydrogen peroxide, and bandages. Thank God for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we hobbled back to our stuff, we couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably. I’m sure some of the laughing came from gratitude and relief, but you have to admit, it was pretty funny. We kept saying, “Did that really just happen?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I paid a visit to the doctor yesterday to take make sure everything was ok. They gave me a tetanus shot (ouch) and antibiotics. They also took an x-ray of my foot to make sure nothing was left from the ugly catfish in it. It looked good and now I’m just waiting for the swelling to go down so that I can walk properly again. Right now it is very painful to walk and I’m staying alone so that makes things particularly difficult. However, I’m easily adaptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it: my random catfish story. Crazy, I know. And yes, it really did happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-5736829994932043200?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/5736829994932043200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/06/random-catfish-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/5736829994932043200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/5736829994932043200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/06/random-catfish-story.html' title='Random Catfish Story'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-3333652468074711313</id><published>2009-06-04T09:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T09:57:49.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding Faith</title><content type='html'>Where is my faith? As I studied this morning about Daniel’s, I cannot help but feel that I’m in a dark maze wandering around in search of a lost faith. Do I even know what I’m looking for? No, it’s as if I am running aimlessly down walled corridors in the dark looking for something that has no form. All the while, Christ is walking next to me saying, “Here, take my lamp and my map and the photo of your destination. Speak with me, I’ll guide you the whole way.” And yet all too often I brush Him off desiring to be the hero who receives the glory of finding it MY way all by MYSELF. And then often it is only when I hit a dead end in the corridor and I lose all hope, that I finally look to my side and utter a desperate and angry “FINE, FINE WHATEVER!” This is a direct quote from a 2 year old I know. Why is it she knows this frustration and these words? Because they are at the heart of who we are as humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I snatch the map and lamp and start out again. However, once I am almost sure about the right way to go, I thrust it all back in His hands and try it again my way. My way. Not His.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to change that. I want to be continually next to Christ pouring over His words with His lamp as my light. I want to be talking with Him, asking what He thinks about every turn. Not just when I hit a dark corner, but always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What brings me to this confession of my lack of faith? I’m glad you asked. As many of you know, my friend Jenna (whose birthday it is today, Happy birthday friend!) and I have a desire that we believe it is from the Lord and not ourselves. We aspire to have a house geared almost solely to ministry and hospitality for women of all ages (but focused on students). We wish to have a place perfect for early morning coffee discipling (not about coffee—come on, I’m not that much of an addict!), bible studies, parties, crashing spots for the weary, and just a place for someone to listen and be pointed to Christ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dilemma: we have no house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I understand, that that throws quite a kink in the whole vision. In fact, it’s the biggest and darkest corridor in our maze. Probably the second being that we have no 3rd roommate. We’ve seen a few houses we love, one in particular but money and roommates are necessary. Often, when I’m in situations like this I try to find every way to patch up the situation, MY way and in MY timing. So this time I’m sitting back. I’m taking Daniel’s example of combining wisdom and practicality with knowledge and rest in who God is. He will provide. He will show His glory. Not mine. John 3:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if there’s anyone in Tallahassee who wants to join us in our maze of faith, please let us know. There will be dark times but I also believe there will be some of the brightest moments we’ve ever experienced. It will be a risk and an adventure! However, there is no need to worry! Because most importantly, we plan on staying with the Tourguide the whole time we are traveling. After all, it’s all for His glory, isn’t it? His.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll set my gaze on God alone,&lt;br /&gt;And trust in Him completely;&lt;br /&gt;With every day pour out my soul,&lt;br /&gt;And He will prove His mercy.&lt;br /&gt;Though life is but a fleeting breath,&lt;br /&gt;A sigh too brief to measure,&lt;br /&gt;My King has crushed the curse of death&lt;br /&gt;And I am His forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-3333652468074711313?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/3333652468074711313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/06/finding-faith.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/3333652468074711313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/3333652468074711313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/06/finding-faith.html' title='Finding Faith'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-4308113510096446620</id><published>2009-05-30T09:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T09:16:03.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise You in This Storm</title><content type='html'>I was sure by now, God, that You would have reached down &lt;br /&gt;and wiped our tears away, &lt;br /&gt;stepped in and saved the day. &lt;br /&gt;But once again, I say amen &lt;br /&gt;and it's still raining &lt;br /&gt;and as the thunder rolls &lt;br /&gt;I barely hear You whisper through the rain, &lt;br /&gt;"I'm with you"&lt;br /&gt;and as Your mercy falls &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I raise my hands and praise &lt;br /&gt;the God who gives and takes away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus: &lt;br /&gt;And I'll praise you in this storm &lt;br /&gt;and I will lift my hands &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;for You are who You are &lt;br /&gt;no matter where I am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and every tear I've cried &lt;br /&gt;You hold in your hand &lt;br /&gt;You never left my side &lt;br /&gt;and though my heart is torn &lt;br /&gt;I will praise You in this storm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I stumbled in the wind &lt;br /&gt;You heard my cry to You&lt;br /&gt;and raised me up again &lt;br /&gt;my strength is almost gone how can I carry on &lt;br /&gt;if I can't find You &lt;br /&gt;and as the thunder rolls &lt;br /&gt;I barely hear You whisper through the rain &lt;br /&gt;"I'm with you"&lt;br /&gt;and as Your mercy falls &lt;br /&gt;I raise my hands and praise &lt;br /&gt;the God who gives and takes away &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lift my eyes onto the hills &lt;br /&gt;where does my help come from? &lt;br /&gt;My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth &lt;br /&gt;I lift my eyes onto the hills &lt;br /&gt;where does my help come from? &lt;br /&gt;My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Casting Crowns&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-4308113510096446620?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/4308113510096446620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/praise-you-in-this-storm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/4308113510096446620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/4308113510096446620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/praise-you-in-this-storm.html' title='Praise You in This Storm'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-4410210029069286515</id><published>2009-05-29T10:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T09:07:06.592-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daniel's Resolve</title><content type='html'>“But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king's delicacies, nor with the wine which he drank; therefore he requested of the chief of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself.” Daniel 1:8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I can vividly imagine this scene. When the attractive, smart, and social Jewish boys (ages 15-18) were brought into the king’s court in order to be trained, Daniel and some of his friends were chosen. By the way, attractive, smart, and social were the qualifications from the king that were highly esteemed in order to immerse these Jewish boys into the culture. Sounds a lot like our culture, doesn’t it? As it started to dawn upon Daniel what was about to happen, he realized that right then and there he had to make a choice: to submit to the will of man or to submit to the will of God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I believe that in his mind he saw no other choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; On his knees Daniel “purposes” not to compromise. This verse speaks volumes of how to fight sin and live out godliness. Daniel’s outward change came from a very inward root. He was intentional. He was gentle. He was obedient. He gives no room for a foothold, just simply obedience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Some of the literal Hebrew translations of “purposed” include: “to set, direct, direct toward, ordain, establish, found, appoint, constitute, make, determine, fix, to set his heart upon.” I especially like the last part, “to set his heart upon.” It reminds me of the phrase, “don’t put all your eggs in one basket.” That’s essentially what Daniel is doing here. He is putting all of his eggs in God’s basket. He is setting heart on one thing and one thing alone. That, my friends, is the only way we can truly stand up against the pressures and temptations of this world and culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So how do we live a “purposed” or “resolved” life? It starts with first a relationship with the Lord. If you haven’t believed or trusted Him as the Lord and savior of your heart. If you’ve never seen yourself as a sinner. If you don’t fall at His feet, offering your empty hands and praying for His grace to fill you, then you have no way of living a “purposed” life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; If you do have a relationship with the Lord, I believe that there are a few practical conclusions we can draw from this verse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A Purposed Life is:&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Rooted in God’s Word&lt;/span&gt; (Ps. 119:11; Ps. 17:4; Duet 6:6; John 17:17)&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Reverently fearing God, not men&lt;/span&gt; (Ps. 19:9, Ex 20:20, Prov. 16:6)&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Resting in the hope and promises of God (AKA, Faith)&lt;/span&gt; (Titus 1:2, Heb. 11:1, Heb. 3:14)&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Regularly in prayer.&lt;/span&gt; (1 Thes. 5:17, Eph 6:18, Phil 4:6)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how is your “resolve” going? If you’re like me, you may be trying to make it your own “resolve.” I am preaching to myself when I say that most importantly, give it to the Lord. Ask Him to give you a purposed life. Ask for His power and strength,.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “And if the Lord is for us, who can be against us?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-4410210029069286515?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/4410210029069286515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/daniels-resolve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/4410210029069286515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/4410210029069286515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/daniels-resolve.html' title='Daniel&apos;s Resolve'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-6131296017894110808</id><published>2009-05-25T09:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T09:43:47.474-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do I Know of Holy?</title><content type='html'>I'm just going to let you know right now that I LOVE MUSIC. Music is a way that I communicate. It's the way that I express myself and contribute to the world around me. It is often times music lyrics that grab my attention and point me to Christ and what He has done for me. All that to say, there will be many song lyrics, blogs about songs, songs that made me happy, songs that made me think on this page. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song in particular is probably the most meaningful song I've ever heard. While driving home one weekend from school, the words started to echo in my head as I realized it was playing in my car. I had never heard the song before; the CD had been given to me that day. But as the words started to seep into my mind, I had to play it over and over again as to let it bathe me in understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What Do I Know of Holy?" paints the picture of humankind but especially of our american culture. We walk around thinking we have God figured out, that we can put Him in a nice neat packaged box with a ribbon and yet we have NO idea who He really is. We are merely standing at His shoreline. My favorite part probably comes from being raised in the church and the deadly apathy that can sometimes accompany years of Sunday School. The songwriter says "I guess I thought that I had figured You out, I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about how You were mighty to save but those were only empty words on a page!" Oh how I pray that we, as believers, will wake up to who God is and the little of His holiness that we are able to grasp and in turn live out our knowledge &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;for the world to see.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing, are you hurting? "Come to Him all who are weary and He will give you rest." God doesn't ask us not to hurt. He doesn't ask us to swallow it and walk through our day with a Barbie smile plastered across our face. He simply asks us to bring that hurt to Him. Why? &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;He wants to bind up our wounds. &lt;/span&gt;"What do we know of wounds that will heal our shame?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song should be playing in the little Ipod on the blog but you can go back to it if you want to listen with the lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made You promises a thousand times&lt;br /&gt;I tried to hear from Heaven&lt;br /&gt;But I talked the whole time&lt;br /&gt;I think I made You too small&lt;br /&gt;I never feared You at all No&lt;br /&gt;If You touched my face would I know You?&lt;br /&gt;Looked into my eyes could I behold You?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CHORUS)&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of You&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion?&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along Your ocean?&lt;br /&gt;Are You fire? Are You fury?&lt;br /&gt;Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know? What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I thought that I had figured You out&lt;br /&gt;I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;How You were mighty to save&lt;br /&gt;But those were only empty words on a page&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be&lt;br /&gt;The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CHORUS)&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of You&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion?&lt;br /&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along Your ocean?&lt;br /&gt;Are You fire? Are You fury?&lt;br /&gt;Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know? What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CHORUS 2)&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a God who gave life "its" name?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;Of the One who the angels praise?&lt;br /&gt;All creation knows Your name&lt;br /&gt;On earth and heaven above&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of this love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CHORUS)&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of You&lt;br /&gt;Who spoke me into motion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Where have I even stood&lt;br /&gt;But the shore along Your ocean?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are You fire? Are You fury?&lt;br /&gt;Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know? What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of Holy?&lt;br /&gt;What do I know of Holy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-6131296017894110808?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/6131296017894110808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-do-i-know-of-holy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/6131296017894110808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/6131296017894110808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-do-i-know-of-holy.html' title='What Do I Know of Holy?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3321030016909841696.post-5172739070257348936</id><published>2009-05-24T20:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T20:23:55.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven</title><content type='html'>There are few experiences in my life that have been so beautiful as that night. Being away at school here the past 2 months has certainly been challenging. There are good days and there are bad days. Often, I have noticed that the bad days outnumber the good. Even so, God has been teaching me that leaning back and resting in Him is the best way to combat these testing times. One such night while lying awake at midnight, I decided to play a song by Phil Wickham that was on my Ipod. "Beautiful" is the name of the song and it also contains “It is Well with My Soul” in the midst of it. Music has been my backbone lately and it has blessed my soul so much this past few weeks. As I listened, something moved me to an action that I, shamefully, haven't taken for a long time...my knees. As I sat on my knees against my bed I cried yet again. And finally, since I've been here, they weren't tears of pain and sadness, but of joy. Joy in my Creator. Joy in where He is leading me. Joy that my life isn't mine...it's my Beautiful Savior's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song has a whole concert of people singing. Have you ever noticed that when a large group of people sing, it is beautiful no matter what? It's one voice in a wonderful tone that doesn't require perfect pitch or even a well trained voice...it just blends to make something fantastic. As I listened to this song I wondered, “is that how God hears it?” I wonder if sometimes He only hears one massive, collective, and beautiful voice of all His saints that, though they are all around the globe singing in hundreds of different languages and thousands of different songs, they come together in perfect harmony of His praise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly all I want to do is listen and sing to the Lord. I feel as though tonight I caught a glimpse of Heaven. And for once I really mean that. Not "heavenly chocolate" or "heavenly comfort" but the true Heaven where with one voice we will live in constant praise of our Lord and since that's what we are created for, it will be the fullest joy we've ever experienced...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Download this and then listen to the song Beautiful. It has to be played in your headphones, though. Eyes shut or better yet, in darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His whole CD is free at www.philwickham.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3321030016909841696-5172739070257348936?l=sarahhylton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/feeds/5172739070257348936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/heaven.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/5172739070257348936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3321030016909841696/posts/default/5172739070257348936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sarahhylton.blogspot.com/2009/05/heaven.html' title='Heaven'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13954135638828900151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VvlV2aZ2MvE/ShnLfYPmy8I/AAAAAAAAAHE/aSzDigQuAMY/S220/n163800206_30725485_3977.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
