<?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-1717477342377632880</id><updated>2011-10-20T01:08:01.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Echo of My Heart</title><subtitle type='html'>A story is the echo of an author's heart</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-3023856241537753158</id><published>2010-02-22T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T15:56:42.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lent Blog: Day 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lent, day two. My head hurts and I would love some bread right now. But that’s not what matters. It’s not about how well I ‘sacrifice’ or how righteous I can get by how much I give up, all in the name of God. If that were the case, I wouldn’t be getting anywhere. In The Great Exchange it says “One cannot earn a gift; otherwise it can no longer be called a gift. Instead, it becomes a wage deserved.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Anyone who has been around any human longer than about two seconds realized pretty instantly, we do not deserve the gift of grace, righteousness and life. So this season of lent has to be about me accepting that gift and living in it rather than doing what I can to feel like I’ve earned it or I deserve it. Living in that allows me to live less carefully (as I heard it phrased recently). I can bask in the beauty of God and the security that I can do nothing to earn what He’s given me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Today at school I realized that very few people know who I am or even acknowledge my presence. In each of my classes there are a few people who I would consider friends that know me. But in comparison to the rest of the student body, I’m widely unknown. Normally I would go to sin over that. Throw myself a pity-part and wonder why nobody likes me. But not today. I realized that I don’t need people to see me or say hi to me to validate my worth. These people don’t matter. I’ll probably never see them again, and it’s not like what they think will ever affect me. I don’t have to worry about them. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Also, it gives me freedom to just be still. I don’t have to throw up walls or façades or try and figure out who they want me to be. Which I shouldn’t do anyway, but that’s something I’m really working on. If these random people I see don’t care, why should I? I can just learn to rest in the knowledge that God has me. God sees me. God loves me and really, why should I care about anyone else?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Granted, I do. I do a lot, actually. But I shouldn’t. More and more I’m starting to understand why I shouldn’t care. How can anyone else’s opinion of me matter or define me more than the opinion God has of me? It can’t matter. That’s a really beautiful thing. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Reading Genesis is easy. Even reading Exodus is pretty simple. It’s loaded with stuff, for sure. But I can get through it pretty quick. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It’s Leviticus I can’t get through. That book creates this block that extends through Numbers and into Deuteronomy. These come around day 11. I know that because I tried this last year. I couldn’t do it. I got discouraged because I wanted to read those books, but I couldn’t do the 26 pages in a day and I didn’t want to skip. Can you believe it? I couldn’t read 26 pages. In one day. It’s a joke.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It’s a joke because I’ve read every single Harry Potter book, most of them in a single day. I didn’t just read them, but I absorbed them. I can still recall very menial details even years later. So why should those books be so easy to read, when the Bible isn’t? Because I’ve made it that way. I’ve chosen to make it hard on myself by my attitude and perception of the content I was reading. So, if that’s the only thing in my way, I’ll change it. Ask God to give me the courage to examine my heart and change it toward Bible reading. Once at that place of being willing to change and desiring to see where your heart is, it’s so easy. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-3023856241537753158?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/3023856241537753158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=3023856241537753158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3023856241537753158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3023856241537753158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2010/02/lent-blog-day-2.html' title='Lent Blog: Day 2'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-5319073318922608032</id><published>2010-02-21T17:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T17:05:20.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lent Blog: Day 1</title><content type='html'>Lent could not have come at a better time this year. Just in the past week I’ve been forced to confront my darkness and call out the evil that lies there. It was an ugly process. I severely dislike a) being vulnerable and b) not having all the answers. Both of which were the case. But, even though it was ugly and hard, I learned (or, rediscovered rather) some really important truths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am not my mistakes&lt;/span&gt;. Praise God for that. I am not the filth and darkness I choose to live in. What I am is a daughter of Christ who sometimes insists on taking the wheel. And He lets me, for a minute. Just to show me who much better life is when I’m not in control of it.&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There is no consequence to sin.&lt;/span&gt; Of all the truths, this one was easiest to grasp. In all of history and in all of the future, there has been one consequence: the murder of Jesus. That’s for every sin ever committed. So why would one of my sins have more of a consequence than the bloody, horrific slaughter of the perfect, spotless Christ? It can’t. The ‘consequence’ to my sin is a better understanding of the God who loves me and closer relationship with Him, and in recent cases, the same with my parents. How is that bad? After my sin, that is hardly what I deserve, but that’s what I get. It is grace and it’s enough to make me weep.&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I need to name my enemy.&lt;/span&gt; I have been tormented by darkness for much of the last year. Darkness that I have refused to acknowledge. Darkness that I have named Mak. That isn’t its name though. Through my refusal to properly address it, Mak has become a life-consuming darkness. But no more. The name of the darkness is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Abaddon (Revelation 9:11)&lt;br /&gt;-Accuser (Revelation 12:10)&lt;br /&gt;-Adversary (1 Peter 5:8)&lt;br /&gt;-Apollyon (Revelation 9:11)&lt;br /&gt;-Beelzebul (Matthew 12:24)&lt;br /&gt;-Belial (2 Corinthians 6:15)&lt;br /&gt;-Deceiver (Revelation 12:9)&lt;br /&gt;-Devil (Luke: 4:13)&lt;br /&gt;-Enemy (Matthew 13:28, 39)&lt;br /&gt;-Father of Lies (John 8:44)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are a few of the names. The name in and of itself isn’t important. What’s important is naming and calling out that darkness with the authority of Jesus. The end result is freedom. Pure, unadulterated light. And now that I’ve experienced that, I want it for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the season of lent, there is quite a bit that I am doing. Some giving up, some adding to my routine. All for the glory of God. The biggest thing is Diet Coke. I’m giving up artificial sweeteners in general, but it is Diet Coke in particular. In thinking about it, I’ve come to realize that Diet Coke isn’t just a comfort (though that does play a huge part in it) but it’s also become part of my identity. I am well known for my love of Diet Coke. But how distorted and far from God have I become when a soda becomes a bigger part of my identity? That also doesn’t begin to cover the affects it’s had and is having on my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also for the benefit of my body is giving up all forms of sugar, carbs and dairy. Plus the addition of actually taking my vitamins and working out six times a week. This is part cleaning out my ‘innards, and part getting rid of comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with taking care of my body this season is taking care of my spirit. Giving up internet as much as possible (excluding school and this blog), TV (American Idol and 24 excluded, those are family shows) which basically means giving up NCIS, Star Trek and Criminal Minds, and cell phone (except for when I really need it, which probably wont be often). This is born partially out of being sacrificial, partially in order to clear away some of the noise and partially for time. I have a lot of reading to be doing. As a family, we are going through The Great Exchange (six pages a day) and personally I’m reading the Bible (26 pages a day). So today, that’s six pages of chapter 5 and Genesis 1:1-31:55. Oh, and I’m also 71 pages behind in The Great Exchange. But I’m excited because I know that it is this closeness to God that I need right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-5319073318922608032?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/5319073318922608032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=5319073318922608032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/5319073318922608032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/5319073318922608032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2010/02/lent-blog-day-1.html' title='Lent Blog: Day 1'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-5276918468248540451</id><published>2009-12-09T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T16:54:20.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>War on Apathy</title><content type='html'>I know a few people who have come back from Iraq or Afghanistan. I know people who are currently somewhere in the desert. I’m taking a class where the majority of the population is Arab, including the teacher. We watch videos about the Iraq-Iran war, the negotiations between Palestine and Israel. I’ve studied how we, the US, have intervened for good, and for bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In another class, we talk about the global efforts for one group or another. Social justice and being critical in how we receive information. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In yet another class, we focus heavily on the civil rights, women’s rights and Vietnam War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; That’s all very nice. I look around the classes and I see glazed over expressions and people doing other classes homework. All this information is being thrown at us, but not sinking in. We’ve become desensitized to school. This isn’t such a shock, really. But school isn’t the only thing we’ve become desensitized to. We’ve also become highly desensitized to war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; War is ugly. It’s revolting. It’s sickening. I’ve seen video footage from Al-Jazeera and from Vietnam. Blood everywhere. Sobbing mothers hunched over the bodies of innocent children. Bloody mobs with political lynching’s. Bombs drooped on tanks, people, and buildings. Not to mention the ruthless justification of the generals and presidents in charge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Currently the United States is involved in war. Do you know how long it’s been going on? Seven years. For seven years we’ve been in the Middle East. I don’t care if you agree with the war or not, that’s not the point. The point is, we live in an economy where we can ignore the war we are in the very middle of. The people of Iraq can’t ignore it. They don’t get to sit around debating Jessica Simpson’s love life. They don’t even have the luxury of debating the war and whether it’s right or wrong. Frankly, who cares? The point is, we’re there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Close your eyes and imagine it. Imagine going outside and seeing a military raid going on in the house across from you. Imagine walking to get water, and passing hordes of armed soldiers. Do you know what the rumble of a passing tank feels like? Can you hear the jets that daily pass your house? I have no idea what any of that is like. And that feels wrong to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I think the only American’s who feel the sting of war are the men and women who come back (obviously) and their families. I don’t have a solution and I can’t pinpoint the exact problem. But, I’m starting to see that we can not continue to live without feeling something for the people who do see the daily effects of war. It doesn’t matter if you agree that the war is necessary or not, what matters is being there for the people in the middle of it when they come home. And for their families if they don’t.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-5276918468248540451?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/5276918468248540451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=5276918468248540451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/5276918468248540451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/5276918468248540451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2009/12/war-on-apathy.html' title='War on Apathy'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-8660470884892877559</id><published>2009-08-28T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T21:39:37.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am exhausted...</title><content type='html'>I am completely exhausted. It's now the fifth day in a row that I have had a 15 hour plus day. I’ve been up every day at 7 the latest and haven’t gotten to bed until 12 most nights. Not only have I been getting up at 7, but I’ve been getting up to four children who need help getting ready, getting fed and loaded up for camp. Then off to the park to set up for our VBS. Then singing the same two songs every morning (I’ll Fly Away and Victory Chant) and spending the next three hours with 15 four and five year olds during snack time, story time, game time and craft time. They were always fairly grumpy by craft time. Only then to come home with four (once five) children for a brief naptime then trying to figure out ways to entertain them until dinner time and then until bedtime. Which was always a fight in and of itself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between no sleep, singing two songs that I actually have grown to not like whatsoever, and spending time with very needy four year olds, I’ve learned a ton. Today, I was tired to the point of crying. I wanted to cry as I was singing the last time. I reached the end of my rope a long time ago. As in Monday night long time ago. So the fact that I’m still sane and have loved this week immensely really shows something to me. I ended my rope. . . so I started asking myself who’s rope I was using and who’s sanity I was borrowing momentarily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, duh. That answer hit me hard. Who else could sustain me emotionally and spiritually? Who else could make it okay for me to get up at seven with a smile for a whole bunch of four year olds? Who has been trying to show me all the ways in which I sinfully hold on to my time with an iron grip? I started to realize this on Sunday and now. . . everything I was thinking then has just been even more confirmed. I’ve been fighting getting my AA lately. I haven’t wanted to give up that much more of my senior year. Plus a senior year of high school (which is crazy no matter what) as well as doing the DTP (a discipleship program for becoming a children’s counselor) I had no desire to give up more time to get my AA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why? Because I can’t handle it. I could never do all that. I get overly stressed super easily, I freak out and I would loose my mind. I can’t do all that. I probably wont even be able to do my junior year of high school, how could I do all that I want to in two years? I can’t. It’s a simple as that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I realized that, my first thought was thank Jesus I can’t do it. If I can’t do it, I can’t fail. Everything that I plan on taking on is going to have to take an incredible amount of strength. A hundred times more strength than I currently have. So, I’m going to have to find a source of strength somewhere. And I’m starting to see that only God can provide that for me. I’ve gotten a taste of what that will look like this week, and I can’t even begin to explain how much my inability to do this has filled me with hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a crazy thing. Three weeks ago, I wouldn’t have even begun to imagine all that VBS could teach me. I was there to teach them, not the other way around. But thankfully, I learned from them. I learned a little from everyone who was at VBS, child and teacher alike. I have no idea how intense these next two school years will be. I have no idea how my resolve and my faith in God will be tested. All I know is that it will be. Also, that I am going to need all the strength God has to give me. Normally, the idea of leaning on someone else for strength when I’m so ready to prove my independence would just anger me. But in this instance, It’s the only thing that makes sense. If I think I’m exhausted now, I have no idea what’s coming to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-8660470884892877559?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/8660470884892877559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=8660470884892877559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/8660470884892877559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/8660470884892877559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-am-exhausted.html' title='I am exhausted...'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-3476916184693227132</id><published>2009-06-10T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T15:00:31.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion</title><content type='html'>I recently had to write a paper on something that I want to do when I "grow up" (not that I really want to grow up in the traditional way). It took me forever to decide what to write about. That's always the case when I need to write a paper. I spend longer deciding what to write about then the actual writing. Then it hit me, much the same as it did at the WASL. Why not write about writing? Writing, reading, books and literacy are things I love and am very passionate about. But, as I did more and more research, I found I’m part of a minority in that respect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent survey done by the National Assessment of Adult Literacy states that 50% of the adult population is not prepared to read any complicated or deep text. That is the result of a gross decline in adult reading. I always knew that teenagers were on a serious literacy decline. When I was in 7th grade there was more than one occasion when my English teacher and I would start talking about a book in class and we were both surprised when no one else had read it or even heard about it. As a class we read the classic “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” and to my shock and sadness, I was the only student who had read it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I found out that adult reading is also on the decline, I was equally shocked and saddened. My resolve to be a writer is even stronger now. I see evidence all over the place on times when a well written book has made all the difference in a person’s life. I write not just for myself, though that is a big part of why I write, but I write so that others will (hopefully) one day read it. I am constantly challenging my work and looking at it from new angles, not for myself, but for that one person who reads it and maybe it changes their life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All avid readers, people who are truly passionate about the art of reading, have a read more than one book that spoke to them. That touched them in the deepest part of who they are and the words painted pictures in their minds that made them hunger. Made them strive for something more. I want to bring that feeling to everyone. I want everyone to feel that overpowering feeling of being touched by someone’s heart put on paper. Because that’s what writing is. It’s the authors heart being put on display. So this treasure, should not be forgotten. It should be cherished and relished for years to come. It also deserves to be shared and be seen by others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please help me in my quest to bring the joy and beauty of reading back. Find a favorite book, and give it away. Give it to someone who you think would appreciate it. To someone who could be touched by it. Someone who’s life could be touched by it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-3476916184693227132?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/3476916184693227132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=3476916184693227132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3476916184693227132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3476916184693227132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2009/06/passion.html' title='Passion'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-4291532226558591773</id><published>2009-05-15T20:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T20:37:19.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Essays About She: Mad World</title><content type='html'>A young woman sat alone on Thursday night, saver for her 6 year old son Conrad. She sat at her dinning table, eating a baked frozen pizza. Hers was a sparsly furnished house. The living room was small, yet intimate, with the focal point being a large white and black framed fireplace. It was a small house, but perfect for them. There was a bathroom across the hall from Conrads romm, and an office next door. Her room was neat with a fair size walk in closet. They finished dinner, which was conductud in an amiable silence, and moved into the living room to play Don't Break the Ice. After a few games, her phone rang. She left Conrad in the living room and went to the kitchen to answer it. It was a coworker, asking if she wouldn't mind covering the shift. I can't, she explained, I don't have a babysitter. Bring him here, the coworker suggest. No, Conrad needs to be in bed by 8, he has school in the morning. Any other time I'd be glad to she said. She hung up and went looking for Conrad. He had gone to his room and was playing with cars. She left him alone while she checked her email. She called Conrad out, gave him a peice of candy and turned on an episode of Tom &amp; Jerry for him while she cleaned. After that was over, she helped him brush his teeth. He insisted on putting his pajamas on by himself. She smiled at his growing independance. She fed his fish, let him pick some toys to take to bed and read him a story. On her way out she said "good night Conrad." "Night mom. Love you" was his sleepy reply. In years to come he would learn to care about her, to worry after her. But for now he was content to let her worry after him. After making sure he had everything he needed, she cleaned up their game, drew all the blinds and went and got her own pajamas on. She went back to the living room to watch some TV before bed. Around 11, she turned the TV off and checked on Conrad. He was sound asleep. She went to her own bed, set her alarm for six and fell asleep too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-4291532226558591773?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/4291532226558591773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=4291532226558591773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/4291532226558591773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/4291532226558591773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2009/05/essays-about-she-mad-world.html' title='Essays About She: Mad World'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-1769540302003343631</id><published>2009-04-19T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T09:29:12.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Geeking out....</title><content type='html'>Yeah, all geeks experience moments of geeking out. I'm just coming down off a week (maybe two?) of major geeking out. And chances are, I'm not done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really I can shift some of the blame onto my wonderful friend Em....she introduced me to a new show. Supposedly it's Sci-Fi, but the only thing really Sci-Fi about it is that it takes place in space on different plantes. Great show however....should never have been cancled. Around the same time I started watching the show, I got the chance to meet Wil Wheaton. On the outside I just looked like a sweet, geek-free fangirl, but internally I was having a major geek out moment. You know, like freak out, but geek out. I then promptly checked his books out from the library (hilarious, I highly recomend them) and decided to do the ulitmate geek thing: write a Star Trek series. I'm really not a big fan of DS9 or Enterprise (I adore Voyager despite it's lack of Gene Roddenbury) and would love to bring it around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geeking out is actually quite fun. Yesterday I spent most of the morning watching episodes from ST: TNG (season 1) and had tons of fun talking to the TV screen and...well...geeking out in major ways. I've named my car B'Ellana, my iPod Beverly Crusher and am writing a Sci-Fi novel based off my love for Star Trek. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a geek, I proudly admit it. I provide endless entertainment to my friend (who also has her geeking out moments, but she's actually a Twerd instead of a Trekkie)and I love ComiCon, I can't wait for more. Embrace the geek...cause frankly, we're cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-1769540302003343631?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/1769540302003343631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=1769540302003343631' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/1769540302003343631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/1769540302003343631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2009/04/geeking-out.html' title='Geeking out....'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-6548289835301619064</id><published>2009-02-26T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T10:30:42.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Idolatry+Codependancy= Twilight?</title><content type='html'>In Eclipse (the third Twilight instalment), Bella's (the main character) biggest fear is that Edward (her boyfriend) will leave her. That in and of itself isn't so bad. But it gets to the point where Bella can't stand to be alone. She's constantly worried and on edge. Edward had previously left Bella, saying being with him would only get  her hurt (which was true) and Bella fell to peices. She wouldn't eat, only slept, never hung out with her friends, until she went to Italy to save Edward and bring him back to Forks. Bella hung out only with the Cullens (Edwards family) and thought her heart waas only big enough for Edward and all her problems would be solved once she was an immortal vampire and could spend eternity with him. On occasion, Bella would speak about Edward's soul and how the only kind of heaven she could imagine was one with Edward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bella dates a vampire. She hangs out with his family (all vampires) and this causes problems. Bella's unwillingness to part with Edward nearly gets herslef killed, the Cullens almost killed (all on more than one occasion)her dad's life is constantly threatened (though he doesn't know it) and her best friend Jacob (a werewolf). If Bella had let go of her idolatry and co-dependancy upon Edward, eleven lives would be safe. But Bella wont. She insits that sge simply cannot live without him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bella and Edward could have had a healthy relaionship (while keeping in mind that this is completely fictional) if Edward was not preimminent in her life. Had that been God; had Jesus been the one she refused to go without; had she felt so strongly at the thought of Jesus leaving her (which He never would have); then her and Edward could have had a healthy, loving relationship. Everyone, even fictional characters, were made to worship something and Bella chooses Edward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-6548289835301619064?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/6548289835301619064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=6548289835301619064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/6548289835301619064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/6548289835301619064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2009/02/idolatrycodependancy-twilight.html' title='Idolatry+Codependancy= Twilight?'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-3524223352187106109</id><published>2008-12-19T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T10:39:03.037-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When in doubt....start a new chapter?</title><content type='html'>So, I'm working on this book-thing. It's the farthest that I have ever written a book and I'm pretty jazzed about that. But a week ago I wrote this scene. It was a pretty intense scene and I've been stuck as to how to continue. Like, how do I follow that up? I decided, start a new chapter. It's so much easier that way. Close the door on that section, leave it to ferment and settle, find it's footing and then come back once I've stirred up more drama in the other characters lives. But I feel bad about that. Like I'm abandoning those two characters. They just took a very important step and because I'm afraid of that, I'm leaving them alone with their emotions. Is that right? Is there some kind of ethical ruling that says you have to take care of your characters in every aspect? How do you balance 6 characters? Especially when they are as messed up and emotional basket cases like mine? Where do I draw the line at them crossing over into my reality and keep them in theirs?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-3524223352187106109?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/3524223352187106109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=3524223352187106109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3524223352187106109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3524223352187106109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/12/when-in-doubtstart-new-chapter.html' title='When in doubt....start a new chapter?'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-4688138745059011712</id><published>2008-11-27T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T16:25:57.959-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Books I Read 2</title><content type='html'>Just finished another book. This one was "The Princetta" by Anne-Laure Bondoux. It was thrilling. Pirates, fights, new worlds, run away princesses, dashing captains, love, loss, pain, forgiveness, secrets, and everything in between. I read, and read and read until it felt like my head would explode. Have you ever read a book and become so submersed that you see yourself as the main character? Or you give faces to unknown characters, but their faces are people you know? Voices change, morph to fit their looks. You can see the rise and fall of the ocean, here the distant cannons, feel the salty sea air as it dries your lips and whips your hair around. As the number of pages left began to shrink, I became nauseous and dizzy. My heart started to beat faster and I knew, this is it. Only a few pages left. Then it was done. I had reached the end of my book, and yet another story was closed on me. But I'm still reeling from the story. Even though it had a bittersweet ending, it was still amazing. I'm eager to find out more about this author and find more stunning tales of piracy and heroics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-4688138745059011712?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/4688138745059011712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=4688138745059011712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/4688138745059011712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/4688138745059011712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/11/books-i-read-2.html' title='Books I Read 2'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-3463585085673168874</id><published>2008-11-25T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T09:18:27.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Update...</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to post saying that I'm about to leave to go get my braces off. It's a strange feeling, that I will never see them again after today. It's like a really close friend that moved away. You can see pictures, but it's not the same. So, goodbye my love, we spent a fabulous (and trying) two years together. I bid you au revoir, and I will miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-3463585085673168874?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/3463585085673168874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=3463585085673168874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3463585085673168874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3463585085673168874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/11/quick-update.html' title='Quick Update...'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-3004876764576398354</id><published>2008-11-22T22:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T22:38:15.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Books I Read</title><content type='html'>I have decided to post every book I read over the next few months. Starting today. I love to read and I read constantly, but past a few months ago, I rarely remember books I read, and because I read so many, I think it's important that I write it all down so I don't forget. Today I finished a book called Eternity's Edge. It was written by Bryan Davis, who is, in my opinion, one of the best Christian Fiction authors around. He also wrote another series that I love called Dragons In Our Midst. But I digress. This was the second in the Echoes from the Edge series and I was really happy with it. I bought it two months ago, but lost it in one of my roommates rooms ( I have no clue how it got there). I found it yesterday and finished it around 4 this afternoon. I really love Bryan's character development. He creates really lovable, diverse, and interesting characters. So yeah, I loved it and I have two more books that I just got that I can't wait to read :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-3004876764576398354?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/3004876764576398354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=3004876764576398354' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3004876764576398354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/3004876764576398354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/11/books-i-read.html' title='Books I Read'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-1041976774594382341</id><published>2008-11-12T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:36:09.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm</title><content type='html'>I am obviously not very good at the whole "regular blogging thing." But sometimes it does feel good to just have somewhere to arrange my thoughts. Even if it makes no sense to everyone else, it makes sense to me. Yesterday I got the new Taylor Swift album and I adore it. Her style is so amazing and the fact the she wrote, almost single-handedly (is that a word?), whole album is rather impressive. But, she is a teenage girl and there are depressing love songs. One in particular caught my attention. The other night I was throwing a pity party and said "There is no Romeo for me. No Tom (longer story), no Edward (cringe) no Mr. Darcy for me." So then, a few days later I hear this song. "I'm not a princess, this aint a fairytale. I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet, lead her up the stairwell. This aint hollywood, this is a small town. I was a dreamer before you went and let me down. Now it's too late for you and your white horse to come around."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't that perfectly echo the sentiments of a melodramatic teenager? Logically, I know I will most likely end up married. Thats what my brain says. But my heart counter acts that with, well I don't want to just get married. I want a love story. And my brain responds with, well wait. God will bring you one when its time. But my oh-so impatiant heart says now. And it has me in the cross-fire of a brain-on-heart war. And frankly, I don't know what to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-1041976774594382341?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/1041976774594382341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=1041976774594382341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/1041976774594382341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/1041976774594382341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/11/hmmm.html' title='hmmm'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-8452807106171442970</id><published>2008-10-27T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T20:26:52.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insperation?</title><content type='html'>So, when I started this blog, I had this great idea. My first blog ( I thought) was profound and deep. The next one I thought was equally deep and insightful. But my last one...ha! It was a lame attempts at artfulness and creativity. Where is my inspiration? What happened to my creativity? My deepness and insightful-ness has flown straight out the window. What do I do? How can I be creative again? How do I make a not lame blog that I feel bad about? It seems like all my once creative-ness is just...gone. I'm not sure how to cope with the loss of such a close personal friend. I feel a deep sense of sadness with the dividing of my soul. But how do I deal? What steps are there for losing a piece of yourself? Is it a temporary thing? Like, leaving for a job for six months, and I'll be back? Or is it, I'm gone forever, live your life without me? I guess I'll just have to rely on God to restore my soul and creativity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-8452807106171442970?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/8452807106171442970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=8452807106171442970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/8452807106171442970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/8452807106171442970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/10/insperation.html' title='Insperation?'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-831698851791636698</id><published>2008-09-28T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T10:54:12.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kay's Infinite Playlist</title><content type='html'>So...I listen to music most of my day, and began writing down songs that I liked, no matter where they came from. So for that reason I present to you my very own Infinite Playlist (in no particular order)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Future Love by Varsity Fanclub.&lt;br /&gt;I love this song. There is something slightly reminiscent of the old boy-bands (yes, I loved them dearly) but at the same time...better. I'm into lyrics and the lyrics of this song are kind of "awwww" and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ever Ever After by Carrie Underwood&lt;br /&gt;I'm a hopeless romantic and this song says it perfectly. "Lets just admit we all want to make it to Ever Ever After." Where is my ticket?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Adore Her by Mandy Moore&lt;br /&gt;I have always loved Mandy Moore, whether she was singing or acting. For a while there she kind of fell of the face of the earth music wise. But when she came out with Wild Hope...man it was brilliant. This song is so perfectly suited for any situation. It describes most females I know, not to mention the amazingly rich quality of Mandy's voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If Your Not The One by Daniel Beddingfield&lt;br /&gt;Again with the love-sick hopeless romantic that I am, this song is perfect (or not?) for that kind of thing. It has the soul melt-y lyrics you look for in a love song, not to mention Daniel has an amazing voice. This song kind of makes me swoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Energy by Keri Hilson&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure why I like this song. Its actually quite depressing. I guess I like the metaphors used in the chorus. "I'm having nightmares from sleeping with the enemy". I suppose I wouldn't actually call that a metaphor, but I do like the image it depicts. I'm not familiar with much (anything really) of Keri Hilson's music, but if her other songs are anything like this one, she has my vote (and money).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Love Me Dead by Ludo&lt;br /&gt;Probably the most unconventional love song I have ever heard, Love Me Dead is amazing. Ludo has a unique voice and really does well to show his range in this song. But the lyrics...they are a cross between a hate break up song and a proposal. His play on words throughout the whole song are really quite brilliant actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Love Song by Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;I really love Taylor. She a) writes her own music b) is adorable and c) incredibly talented. Her newest single bears witness to that. Each chorus is different, showing a different aspect of a slightly dysfunctional relationship until the very end, where it would perfectly fit Jim and Pam. This is another one of those songs that actually make me swoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Gotta Find You by Joe Jonas&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I did it. I added a Jonas Brother song to my list. But in all truth, its actually not bad song. Considering the fact that its a Disney song and is quite cookie-cutter pop. For the slightly romantic and slightly immature side of all of us, this song is sweet. That's a good word to describe it, sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. La la Land by Demi Lovato&lt;br /&gt;I figure just clump Disney together. She's not bad. A little shouty in some parts, but all things considered, she  has a decent voice. This song is cute. A testament to what every girl who came out of Disney said. They won't change, no matter what. A good beat, some fun play on words, and not a bad song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Better In Time by Leona Lewis&lt;br /&gt;Again, a slightly depressing song. She has an amazing voice, and the lyrics really do say something. I'm gonna smile now. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Tied Together With A Smile by Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;This song isn't slightly depressing, its really depressing. And some days I feel like it fits me a little to well. Again, love her voice, she's really talented, a good song writer and this song just touches somewhere. A level that I think most songs avoid. A place of rawness, reality. Its a beautiful song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Cold As You by Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;Last Taylor song I promise! But there is no denying the haunting quality of this song. You can see it in your head, feel it in your heart. Definitely up there on my list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that concludes my not-so-infinite playlist. I hope I have opened your eyes to some cool new music. Or maybe reminded you why you love music in the first place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-831698851791636698?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/831698851791636698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=831698851791636698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/831698851791636698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/831698851791636698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/09/kays-infinite-playlist.html' title='Kay&apos;s Infinite Playlist'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-4074792949921224507</id><published>2008-05-02T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T12:33:17.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God</title><content type='html'>Lost in darkness&lt;br /&gt;Silently weeping&lt;br /&gt;I hear you coming&lt;br /&gt;All my rage&lt;br /&gt;My soul is seething            &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Yet still you come&lt;br /&gt;Heavy footsteps falling&lt;br /&gt;Coming closer, ever closer&lt;br /&gt;To a closed and&lt;br /&gt;Hardened heart&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;Each deep breath&lt;br /&gt;A scarce companion&lt;br /&gt;I feel a tear drop&lt;br /&gt;That’s not my own&lt;br /&gt;Falling ever quickly&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;I hear a sob&lt;br /&gt;A cry of love&lt;br /&gt;A soft hand&lt;br /&gt;Pressed gently into&lt;br /&gt;My wet and tear soaked face.&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;As the hand wipes away my tear&lt;br /&gt;So it wipes away the hurt&lt;br /&gt;I know who is beside,&lt;br /&gt;Whose cries echo my own&lt;br /&gt;And still I lay weeping, but at least I’m not&lt;br /&gt;Alone&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-4074792949921224507?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/4074792949921224507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=4074792949921224507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/4074792949921224507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/4074792949921224507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/05/god.html' title='God'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1717477342377632880.post-6056707742602744606</id><published>2008-04-29T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T15:18:26.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Author</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;I was born. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Charles Dickens used those words to start David Copperfield. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The simple sentence states with accuracy what Dickens makes of his characters birth. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It was simple; there was no great feast, no awards, and no fuss. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I can imagine Dickens sitting at a desk that is illuminated by a soft burning candle. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He has a blank sheet in front of him, his pen poised above the page; ready to write what ever he thinks. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But, as his pen is coming down, he stops. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;How to begin this tale? &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What words convey my emotions about my character? &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And then he decides. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Three little words, carrying no real weight, but saying tons. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He breathed into existence many characters. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;All of them a small part in a bigger plan. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I wonder if they knew. If as each part of them was being drawn out, if they knew what was happening. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I wonder if as Shakespeare was pouring his soul, Juliet was awaiting the moment she plunged the dagger into her heart. I wonder if Elizabeth Benet knew she would end up for all eternity with Mr. Darcy. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;In short, I wonder if they &lt;i style=""&gt;felt&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;If somehow by writing, we can impart ourselves into our characters. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We are no more than characters. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We play roles in an amazing story. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Our author is far greater and far more competent than Dickens, Homer, Plato, or any of the other greats. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;While many authors start new stories, they often back themselves into corners, and have to work to get themselves out, this author, doesn’t. He doesn’t re-write plot lines, change characters names and He doesn’t second guess himself. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He doesn’t throw characters away and create better ones. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Each character is a reflection of his soul, his heart, his &lt;i style=""&gt;love.&lt;/i&gt; &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We all hold a piece of our author inside of us. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And our author guides us and keeps us close to him. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Our author did what no author would dream of doing for a character. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He died. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And he did what all other authors only wish they could do; he lives in his story. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He is very much a part of his story that is me. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I have a relationship with my author. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Jane Eyre never knew Charlotte, but I know Him.  &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My author, my God, he writes his story with true dedication. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I am horrible at starting stories and stopping, leaving my characters mid-life, often times mid sentence; and there they sit. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;All of them, waiting for me to pick it back up, but I rarely do. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My author isn’t like that. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He doesn’t leave me hanging, waiting for Him to look at my story. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I don’t have to wait for Him to decide that I am worth picking up the pen again. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In fact, my story has all ready been written, I am just now living in the glory of what my author has done for me. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And waiting to see what I can do for him. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1717477342377632880-6056707742602744606?l=heartsecho.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/feeds/6056707742602744606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1717477342377632880&amp;postID=6056707742602744606' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/6056707742602744606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1717477342377632880/posts/default/6056707742602744606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://heartsecho.blogspot.com/2008/04/author.html' title='The Author'/><author><name>kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03648745159882076937</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
