<?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-3247280322957969066</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:48:23.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm trying to find the song...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-2636007667420513839</id><published>2010-01-13T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T11:50:29.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>identity.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;i thought i knew who i was&lt;br /&gt;until the day i looked in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;i looked nothing like the image you had created.&lt;br /&gt;mangled and ashamed&lt;br /&gt;i appeared as a mere piece of guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew who i was&lt;br /&gt;until i began to know you.&lt;br /&gt;you seemed a breath of fresh air&lt;br /&gt;to my stuffy heart.&lt;br /&gt;but then, i thought i knew who i was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still, in the follies of knowing who i was&lt;br /&gt;i thought my downfalls and failures were hated&lt;br /&gt;so to conceal them was my strength.&lt;br /&gt;no one would ever know who i truly was&lt;br /&gt;because i thought i knew who i was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friends come and go and all was to be at their blame.&lt;br /&gt;never once did i think it might be because of my waywardness&lt;br /&gt;just because i thought i knew who i was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew who i was&lt;br /&gt;until i looked love deep into the eyes&lt;br /&gt;and i didn't get to see my hate melt away from me.&lt;br /&gt;but in a moment, my jealousies and ambiguity&lt;br /&gt;turned into a wall of security around me.&lt;br /&gt;my eyes were concentrated ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was then that love looked me in the eyes&lt;br /&gt;and i realized what i had become.&lt;br /&gt;everything became known&lt;br /&gt;and what once was known became foolery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew who i was&lt;br /&gt;until i met you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now all i know is who you are&lt;br /&gt;now all i know is what you've done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew who i was&lt;br /&gt;until the day i looked in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;and i saw you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to see you as my identity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-2636007667420513839?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/2636007667420513839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2010/01/identity.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/2636007667420513839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/2636007667420513839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2010/01/identity.html' title='identity.'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-4951161221257305787</id><published>2010-01-11T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T18:16:01.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;div class="note_header" style="background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(247, 247, 247); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-color: rgb(216, 223, 234); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(59, 89, 152); padding-top: 4px; padding-right: 6px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 6px; background-position: initial initial; "&gt;&lt;div class="note_title_share clearfix" style="display: block; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="note_content text_align_ltr direction_ltr clearfix" style="display: block; direction: ltr; text-align: left; clear: both; margin-left: 6px; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; word-wrap: break-word; width: 460px; "&gt;&lt;div style="clear: none; line-height: 14px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;i know what it's like to be bound.&lt;br /&gt;i remember the chains that held me close to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;i know the nights that kept me down&lt;br /&gt;that recycled the memory of my face hitting the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew right, i thought it was best.&lt;br /&gt;my drunkenness and my waywardness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sensed law as gravity against my bones.&lt;br /&gt;i rejected love and mistook it for law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew fear&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew what it meant to be wise&lt;br /&gt;then i stared fear dead in the eyes&lt;br /&gt;and i felt like a fool.&lt;br /&gt;oh, but you knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember the nights on a clouded flight&lt;br /&gt;the way i ran. oh, the way i ran.&lt;br /&gt;far as the eye to see and yet you had your eyes on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember disgust clear across my mother's face&lt;br /&gt;i was a shame, hopeless, a disgrace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the rebellion within seemed like i was free&lt;br /&gt;and freedoms reach was not what i thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i must have been a senseless fool to you...&lt;br /&gt;yet, now... i belong to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and all along i thought i knew&lt;br /&gt;what it meant to be bound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i know that being bound&lt;br /&gt;consists of a freedom beyond definition...&lt;br /&gt;a grace beyond comprehension...&lt;br /&gt;entirely based from redemption...&lt;br /&gt;the purpose of reconciliation...&lt;br /&gt;closer than the chains once cloven to my ankles...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am bound to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-4951161221257305787?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/4951161221257305787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-know-what-its-like-to-be-bound.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/4951161221257305787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/4951161221257305787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-know-what-its-like-to-be-bound.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-231989112704545964</id><published>2009-12-31T13:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T13:57:25.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>freedom's give.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold; line-height: 14px; "&gt;i know what's it like to be free&lt;br /&gt;i know what freedom's taste is to my lips&lt;br /&gt;i know it's scent more than my wondering senses&lt;br /&gt;i know it's eyes more than anything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's figure...&lt;br /&gt;it has none but a mere silhouette&lt;br /&gt;made up from a shadow&lt;br /&gt;and nothing more than lines do i see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, in all... i see freedom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uncut and unaltered&lt;br /&gt;but by alteration it finds itself&lt;br /&gt;the Spirit moves as the Spirit will&lt;br /&gt;it has no form nor figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at alteration it finds itself best&lt;br /&gt;yes, i have tasted freedoms yield&lt;br /&gt;i have partaken in it's give&lt;br /&gt;and i would follow to my death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it brings life to wherever it goes&lt;br /&gt;and casts down wherever it flows&lt;br /&gt;to bring to the surface what is inside&lt;br /&gt;to convict the laws that have had me bound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to reveal that the law is fulfilled&lt;br /&gt;and that faith in You is our dependent&lt;br /&gt;to have freedom is to be bound&lt;br /&gt;to be bound is to love&lt;br /&gt;to love is to only reflect what You&lt;br /&gt;have already so wonderfully done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;freedom 'tis the very thing that keeps me alive&lt;br /&gt;to behold in reconcile the dreams i've kept inside&lt;br /&gt;pulling them out from my innermost&lt;br /&gt;i'm watching as You make them alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i see as i am awakened&lt;br /&gt;from my chained definition of freedom&lt;br /&gt;i realize that now all along&lt;br /&gt;freedom has always been Your undying Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, i know what's it like to be free&lt;br /&gt;i know what freedom's taste is to my lips&lt;br /&gt;i know it's scent far better than my wondering senses&lt;br /&gt;i know it's eyes more than anything...&lt;br /&gt;for in them i have only ever seen You.&lt;br /&gt;and now i have found freedom in Your eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-231989112704545964?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/231989112704545964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/12/freedoms-give.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/231989112704545964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/231989112704545964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/12/freedoms-give.html' title='freedom&apos;s give.'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-5344936360634108412</id><published>2009-08-23T11:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T11:22:34.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my deepest</title><content type='html'>my deepest&lt;br /&gt;my lowest&lt;br /&gt;my darkest place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my body as a dump&lt;br /&gt;my soul is the disgust&lt;br /&gt;yet... my heart is purer than gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but to untangle&lt;br /&gt;but to reveal that heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;t'will take an eternity to uncover&lt;br /&gt;to unveil that which is pure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and in my heart of hearts&lt;br /&gt;i wish not to be human&lt;br /&gt;i wish not to be apart of the nature of sin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but frames of grace in dimensions unknown&lt;br /&gt;is pixeled into my ever changing heart&lt;br /&gt;from my unchanging God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what a solid Stability&lt;br /&gt;in a world of instabilities.&lt;br /&gt;and a soul full with insecurities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-5344936360634108412?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/5344936360634108412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-deepest.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/5344936360634108412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/5344936360634108412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-deepest.html' title='my deepest'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-557480783587070637</id><published>2009-08-23T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T11:21:50.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>legacy</title><content type='html'>today.&lt;br /&gt;i have put on a pair of bigger pearls.&lt;br /&gt;the definition to my action is void.&lt;br /&gt;but i wear my pearls today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today.&lt;br /&gt;i will be introduced to new people.&lt;br /&gt;see faces i've seen before&lt;br /&gt;anticipating their arrival.&lt;br /&gt;but i wear my navy pants today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today.&lt;br /&gt;i prepare my heart to lead.&lt;br /&gt;to prepare other hearts to lead.&lt;br /&gt;one day to take my place,&lt;br /&gt;but i wear my hair a little different today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today.&lt;br /&gt;with all this to say&lt;br /&gt;my dreams on my sleeve&lt;br /&gt;and my troubles gone far away&lt;br /&gt;i anticipate the arrival of those to go before me.&lt;br /&gt;and i attire in dresscode&lt;br /&gt;to example what i would hope to leave&lt;br /&gt;a legacy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-557480783587070637?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/557480783587070637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/08/legacy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/557480783587070637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/557480783587070637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/08/legacy.html' title='legacy'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-251374386872180395</id><published>2009-07-15T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T21:30:22.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>first light,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i awaken to the work that awaits me in the daylight not far.&lt;br /&gt;i take a deep breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my hands quiver at the loads they will bear in the nearest hours.&lt;br /&gt;my fingers will drench in the water of washing and rinsing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my soul shivers at the sound of the wind that blows.&lt;br /&gt;my heart will be caged even before it can roam free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daylight.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do i really deserve to be here?&lt;br /&gt;my breathing consists of pure pain and grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my hair grows longer, but it is dirty and snagging.&lt;br /&gt;and i watch the other's adorn themselves in their lovely dresses&lt;br /&gt;and mine fades and withers.&lt;br /&gt;jealous? no. i, yet, wish to be dressed in a lovely gown.&lt;br /&gt;in my mother's gown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my heart is yet alive. still alive. surviving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;noon.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what does my name even mean?&lt;br /&gt;i live within a world causing hurt and wounds.&lt;br /&gt;surely, i was not made for this.&lt;br /&gt;surely, this is not my destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yet, today... am i living up to my name.&lt;br /&gt;or so i've been told.&lt;br /&gt;so i am made to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a wretched devil over my shoulder&lt;br /&gt;a evil sidekick at her side.&lt;br /&gt;and a tag along... oh, i loathe them all, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is not enough love in my heart for anyone anymore.&lt;br /&gt;or so i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i scrub and scrub, down on my knees&lt;br /&gt;even deep within my self, trying to be rid pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the tears fall silently down my face.&lt;br /&gt;as i fall abruptly to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;i've fallen, but haven't even made a sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so no one has heard me.&lt;br /&gt;no one can see me.&lt;br /&gt;i am all alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i am haunted by my own shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bending and crouching and&lt;br /&gt;hiding.&lt;br /&gt;i am not able to be rid of the enemies that i live with.&lt;br /&gt;my heart longs to be where my heart is.&lt;br /&gt;but where is my heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i long to find it.&lt;br /&gt;maybe one holds it.&lt;br /&gt;i am not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, but find me in the highest room in the tallest tower...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but this is not a fairy tail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my fingers are raw to the bone.&lt;br /&gt;washing and hanging and drying and folding.&lt;br /&gt;and i continue the journey of this day with little hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;evening.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rushing and saying goodbye to the ones who are the authors of my torture.&lt;br /&gt;helping them and watching them steal the very precious things.&lt;br /&gt;my very precious things that were given to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have no chest full of beautiful things i hope to be.&lt;br /&gt;all of my hopes and dreams, instead of being fulfilled, have been taken from me.&lt;br /&gt;and all that is left now is nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing in my hands.&lt;br /&gt;nothing in my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tonight.&lt;br /&gt;i am....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i speak with more confidence as i find myself taking a step.&lt;br /&gt;the step of direction.&lt;br /&gt;the step in life that will take you somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;yes. the step onto the carriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the step of my future. that is what i take.&lt;br /&gt;it is what i have taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;judge me. go ahead.&lt;br /&gt;because i've chosen to awaken my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but tonight, i will be a belle.&lt;br /&gt;a beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;midnight.&lt;br /&gt;i am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my heart has been found.&lt;br /&gt;and also been torn to shreds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have my best of friends&lt;br /&gt;he has found out of me.&lt;br /&gt;the one i love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i am a peasant, worthy of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i must run.&lt;br /&gt;i must run into the night&lt;br /&gt;before i am seen,&lt;br /&gt;before i am caught.&lt;br /&gt;i will run into my bed of tears and brokeness.&lt;br /&gt;the unshaded moonlight will be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the resolution of my story...&lt;br /&gt;i have lost my way to your heart.&lt;br /&gt;i thought i had found, but i have lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;help me see. and bring me back the treasure i have lost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am... cinderella.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-251374386872180395?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/251374386872180395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/07/first-light.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/251374386872180395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/251374386872180395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/07/first-light.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-6202794608290980543</id><published>2009-07-13T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T10:44:15.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SltyA3Wu8YI/AAAAAAAAABw/Uchjy6wjTgs/s1600-h/stk23615bad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SltyA3Wu8YI/AAAAAAAAABw/Uchjy6wjTgs/s320/stk23615bad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358001540872204674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;he sees her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as her face smiles but her heart aloads the burden of life.&lt;br /&gt;he watches her hope dim to silent tears.&lt;br /&gt;and she begins to circle the checkered floor&lt;br /&gt;as the moonlight gazes in from a near bay window.&lt;br /&gt;and beneath her tears, he sees her heart alive&lt;br /&gt;dancing to the rythyms of his heart beat.&lt;br /&gt;he sees her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but she does not see him.&lt;br /&gt;he hides behind his fear of her knowing.&lt;br /&gt;each moment as she passes him by with every turn she makes&lt;br /&gt;his heart poses a challenge to step out and take her hand.&lt;br /&gt;to take her into his arms.&lt;br /&gt;but the fear of rejection is too grave...&lt;br /&gt;so, he sees her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as she ballets the infinity of the hall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SltlFKC2TJI/AAAAAAAAABo/LVCT28eLbT8/s320/huge_21_1089655.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her heart grows heavier... so, she prances in more persuasion.&lt;br /&gt;persuading herself she can be rid of all of her fears&lt;br /&gt;by swaying alive through a hallway.&lt;br /&gt;and he sees her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hiding behind all of her streams of tears&lt;br /&gt;cascades an overflow of brokeness.&lt;br /&gt;her eyes tell a story of pain&lt;br /&gt;but he watches with a hope of resolving her heart.&lt;br /&gt;and he sees her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as she twirls and turns, she falls onto the floor.&lt;br /&gt;as she weeps ever so hard,&lt;br /&gt;he runs, forgetting all of his fear...&lt;br /&gt;to her rescue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aiding her from the fall&lt;br /&gt;he firms her in his arms.&lt;br /&gt;he brushes back her hair from her face&lt;br /&gt;wiping a tear from her cheek&lt;br /&gt;she looks up in surrender&lt;br /&gt;so vulnerable. she has been caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and into his eyes she sees&lt;br /&gt;the man of her rescue.&lt;br /&gt;but now, she sees him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yet, all is well...&lt;br /&gt;because he sees her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande', -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-6202794608290980543?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/6202794608290980543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/07/he-sees-her.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/6202794608290980543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/6202794608290980543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/07/he-sees-her.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SltyA3Wu8YI/AAAAAAAAABw/Uchjy6wjTgs/s72-c/stk23615bad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-8553236249634013449</id><published>2009-07-06T12:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T12:47:39.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SlJT_aXg6kI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xdMTjaDksT4/s1600-h/DewyMorning-728797.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355435255771753026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SlJT_aXg6kI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xdMTjaDksT4/s320/DewyMorning-728797.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;a vivid clearing appears in the distance&lt;br /&gt;as the morning clears the erstwhile explosive skies&lt;br /&gt;the dawn opening awakens mist arising&lt;br /&gt;upon the candscent horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it arises.&lt;br /&gt;the combinations of smoke and fog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cumbustions in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;the ecstasy of every eye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there she glows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355435407747316738" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SlJUIQhT_AI/AAAAAAAAABY/GFlpTgCTWw0/s320/KhalsaGreetingtheDay-1024x768.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she glows like the morning sun.&lt;br /&gt;wasting her childish fears in the evening's complete&lt;br /&gt;she dreams like the stars are her eyes&lt;br /&gt;and breathes every breath in her heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awaiting her time. awaiting her chance.&lt;br /&gt;awaiting the moment again her heart will dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's a broken side to see&lt;br /&gt;the way of a being's soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's a wonder that you've missed&lt;br /&gt;the way of her innocent heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the angelic tones in her voice&lt;br /&gt;speak of all to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spilling her heart out&lt;br /&gt;she is not average.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she is more than a beauty&lt;br /&gt;she is a love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;she is more than fashionable&lt;br /&gt;she is gentle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and there she glows.&lt;br /&gt;she glows like the sun.&lt;br /&gt;and she will dance like there's no tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SlJUgpEkYbI/AAAAAAAAABg/mS84bZGAVyQ/s1600-h/ballerina-516740-sw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355435826654503346" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SlJUgpEkYbI/AAAAAAAAABg/mS84bZGAVyQ/s320/ballerina-516740-sw.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-8553236249634013449?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/8553236249634013449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/07/vivid-clearing-appears-in-distance-as.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/8553236249634013449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/8553236249634013449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/07/vivid-clearing-appears-in-distance-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SlJT_aXg6kI/AAAAAAAAABQ/xdMTjaDksT4/s72-c/DewyMorning-728797.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-8812999990181830055</id><published>2009-06-26T09:06:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:07:10.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fallen</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;fumbled and fallen&lt;br /&gt;yeah, maybe i've fallen....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but grace is greater dimension still unknown for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heavy and heartbroken&lt;br /&gt;yeah, maybe i'm heart broken...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but scarlet and crimson is the yet to be discovered Healer of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tattered and torn&lt;br /&gt;yea, maybe i'm torn....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but better than a bandaid, is One restoring my ever bleeding heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Peace be my friend through this tormenting fright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Love be closer than my blankets surrounding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Jesus, light my heart that ever darkens my night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-8812999990181830055?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/8812999990181830055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/fallen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/8812999990181830055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/8812999990181830055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/fallen.html' title='fallen'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-7355561828105340866</id><published>2009-06-26T09:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:06:41.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>four years</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;it was four years that passed by&lt;br /&gt;and i never knew i was living.&lt;br /&gt;i never knew i had life.&lt;br /&gt;i remember nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until You found me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;four years had faded and i remember nothing.&lt;br /&gt;i've just realized this truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i may've been young, but i believed.&lt;br /&gt;my repentant little heart never looked back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't remember the day&lt;br /&gt;i don't remember the hour.&lt;br /&gt;but i do remember the moment.&lt;br /&gt;You found me.&lt;br /&gt;and i was young.&lt;br /&gt;but i found You too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes. i found You too.&lt;br /&gt;and i believed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not a memory has been remembered but from that day on, almost as an inaugeration for life... i, truly, began to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since the day You found me.&lt;br /&gt;i remember not a moment beforehand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i need not.&lt;br /&gt;Your grace is sufficient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and 20 years down the road of loving You,&lt;br /&gt;it is still all i can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank You my Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-7355561828105340866?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/7355561828105340866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/four-years.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/7355561828105340866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/7355561828105340866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/four-years.html' title='four years'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-1241811527229009598</id><published>2009-06-26T09:05:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:06:18.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sin</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;so.&lt;br /&gt;i am inclined to think something. yes. think. i have been. and will continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a thought derived from John 3:16.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God loves the WHOLE world, then...&lt;br /&gt;He loves every body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However...&lt;br /&gt;Does God love murders, child-molestors, druggies, homosexuals, human traffickers, poachers, etc...???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;notice, all the above are all sinners.&lt;br /&gt;all of the above i have taken people. people who sin.&lt;br /&gt;or people who have committed sin.&lt;br /&gt;i have just identified them with their sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so simply put... God loves people.&lt;br /&gt;not their identitys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;past their identification of sin.&lt;br /&gt;whatever you identify yourself with, you become.&lt;br /&gt;does this mean, they are animals?&lt;br /&gt;no. they are people. that sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUMAN NATURE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i am sure i have committed murder in my heart when i have thought a hateful thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what am i to say then? because i sin...&lt;br /&gt;human nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, i identify myself with Christ, not my sin.&lt;br /&gt;still apt to sin, but i have the Holy Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;does God still love these people? regular people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because i am capable and apt to the same sins.&lt;br /&gt;don't ever tell me i am perfect. i am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God hates sin. He doesn't hate me though.&lt;br /&gt;He certainly does not hate people.&lt;br /&gt;He hates their sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God's grace is farther than my mind can comprehend.&lt;br /&gt;He is not foolish with it, He is merely extravagant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i am done...... for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-1241811527229009598?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/1241811527229009598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/sin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/1241811527229009598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/1241811527229009598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/sin.html' title='sin'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-4928933389952521114</id><published>2009-06-26T09:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:05:23.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>music</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;numbers make no sense anymore&lt;br /&gt;chords and staff paper have no room in the music my heart produces and writes for You my Love.&lt;br /&gt;the words i write are not enough; for my hearts expression is too great for my tongue to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;could i be but freed from the limits of communication my heart longs to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would then share my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rhythms and rhymes make sense no more.&lt;br /&gt;i cannot be limited to write a mere symphony when You deserve so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;november 18,2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-4928933389952521114?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/4928933389952521114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/music.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/4928933389952521114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/4928933389952521114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/music.html' title='music'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-7346937240494575998</id><published>2009-06-26T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:04:47.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trails and traces</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;the trails and traces&lt;br /&gt;the tracks of tears&lt;br /&gt;streaming down my face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been waiting&lt;br /&gt;all night long&lt;br /&gt;to finally share these. my fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt; if tears are trails&lt;br /&gt;then i've been on a long journey.&lt;br /&gt;they're telling a story of stored grief in my heart - to a hidden melody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;if tears be traces, then am i thus scarred, marked for life by the landmarks inside my chest&lt;br /&gt;telling their own stories and buikding up walls.&lt;br /&gt;it appears they know best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;if tracks seem as they were&lt;br /&gt;they would be railroads travelling as far as the eye to see.&lt;br /&gt;in transit to make somewhat of my life and of my life my own misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the trails and traces&lt;br /&gt;the tracks of tears&lt;br /&gt;streaming down my face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tell the gruesome stories&lt;br /&gt;and tales of my heart&lt;br /&gt;going from place to place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;december 24, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-7346937240494575998?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/7346937240494575998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/trails-and-traces.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/7346937240494575998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/7346937240494575998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/06/trails-and-traces.html' title='trails and traces'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3247280322957969066.post-4555470784395388802</id><published>2009-05-29T20:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T20:35:07.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my first blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SiCo9hHZcuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/P11M72o4HYs/s1600-h/house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341454932876292834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SiCo9hHZcuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/P11M72o4HYs/s320/house.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;this is quite interesting. i have never had a blog site. oh, invigorating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;what a turn in my life. well...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;celebacy: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;an option&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;motherhood: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;well, i know the future children of my womb wouldn't be happy if i were a celebate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;well... onto life i suppose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; i know i am embarking on the biggest adventure of my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; this is for all who read.... i am in love with G-d.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; period.                 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;  the conclusion of my first blog on blogspot.com ever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3247280322957969066-4555470784395388802?l=bethanymstephens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/feeds/4555470784395388802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-first-blog.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/4555470784395388802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3247280322957969066/posts/default/4555470784395388802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanymstephens.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-first-blog.html' title='my first blog'/><author><name>Bethany Stephens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10215457103657828059</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/S8tROzhNr_I/AAAAAAAAADw/77Iyummard0/S220/Photo+6.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SzhQvuxtBNY/SiCo9hHZcuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/P11M72o4HYs/s72-c/house.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
