<?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-2961997266447047543</id><updated>2011-07-07T14:49:53.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>southern soul</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-8791118481416695388</id><published>2009-10-01T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T21:37:22.399-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is more blessed to receive</title><content type='html'>OK so scripture says it's more blessed to give. But go with me here... Jesus probably would...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These last few weeks, I feel like the only place I've been giving is at my new job (relevant magazine-- dot com. go there and read all that is good and funny and entertaining). I have not given of myself to my community, my family, my friends, strangers... it's crazy. I feel like I'm starting college all over again. College- you know, the most selfish time of your life. You're supposed to focus on YOU and what YOU are supposed to be doing with YOUR life. These past few weeks have felt like that and I've become really, really tired. tired of thinking of myself, how I feel, what I am doing, if MY boss likes me, how I am going to make friends, how I can be more at peace in adjusting to Orlando... I've made these last few weeks about me. And to an extent, it was needed. My mom keeps reminding me- set a work routine first. You moved to Orlando for a job and it's important. Committing to a church, a group or volunteer opportunity will come later. And to a degree, I understand what she means. She's right. I make myself busy so I dont have time to be available. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These past few days in trying to adjust to a work schedule, I've become so anxious and lonely and I've felt aimless- what the hell am I doing in Orlando? Working for Relevant! OK great! What do I do on weekends? just stay busy? be social? ok great. check. SB can be busy, we know that.  Where do I go to church and who do I make community? hmmm let me choose from the many churches here in Orlando.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing that I realized I had yet to answer is how will I invest my air, my very being into eternity? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Serve God, SB" - OK sure, I know. But how?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Service Project and be in a group" - OK great but is it going to stick? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to have a vision for how the Lord is using my life beyond ME- my family, my life, my job, my friends, my needs, my desires, my hopes and dreams... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My only answer to what has been missing in my life the last few days or weeks is MISSION. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have lost sight of the fact that my life, and true self, is found in Christ and Christ is on MISSION to see the glory of our Father, God, revealed through his work and his good news expressed on earth! My LIFE is not a story about me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I loose sight of that, my attitude sucks, my work performance goes down, my zeal sputters to its death... I loose sight of the VISION and I FORGET THE MISSION. I become focused on my personal endeavors, my own mission. And believe me, I don't want to stick around on earth to see that realized... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being on Mission doesn't mean I have to save the world and work in the trenches of Orlando every day. This means I live my life with the knowledge of Christ's love for me, his calling to love others and his predestined glory to be revealed through my life. If I can get on mission with that, my life-- regardless of circumstance-- can be a vessel for his glory to be revealed. I get to partake in it, to share in it. First I have to receive LIFE as a gift and surrender it as it was never mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing that made me realize I wasn't on mission was going to a group tonight. At this group we discussed the necessity for community for Christ-followers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized I wasn't answering his call to love others in community and serve His bride, the church. I wasn't choosing to take up my role in a local church by giving of myself. If Jesus' purpose is to glorify the son of God and the church is His bride, then She is NOT without the son. She only exists in Mission with Jesus. And being outside of a community of a believers where I am not on mission means I am not acting out of my true self, which is found in Christ.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realize it takes time to establish community and realize the body to which Christ has called you... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But at my Summit group tonight, it was life-giving to dream with other believers about the glory that would be God's in the city of Orlando if we can be a group that exists solely for the glory of God to see His grace received, His mercy reflected and his word spoken in the city! That is MISSION. I want to be on the boat when the crew sets sail with that MISSION in mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We talked about serving (not projects, but ongoing relationship building, community transforming, life on life service) and true gospel centered, God centered community that could transform Orlando... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(It made me miss my community of English Teachers/Spanish speakers in League City)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found myself excited to give my life. I know breathing is easier when my inhales and exhales are not solely for me. I exist as my true self in community, on mission. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Lord is good. He IS loving. all powerful. all knowing. and perfect. He is all encompassing and all-satisfying. His mission is to see his glory realized because it is when His glory is realized that all that is lost is redeemed and restored. Since my life is hidden in Christ... it is Christ that lives in me and I no longer... MISSION is only found IN Christ; the mission to see all people and all things redeemed for HIS glory alone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am deeply grateful that when I was six years old I was made his child, made in Christ, and made for mission. Tonight I was reminded that it's still my only source of reason or purpose for living. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's to connect groups for reminding me of that. Thank you, Jesus, for your church. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-8791118481416695388?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/8791118481416695388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=8791118481416695388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/8791118481416695388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/8791118481416695388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-is-more-blessed-to-receive.html' title='It is more blessed to receive'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-3273429631479452074</id><published>2009-04-01T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T22:13:15.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dad's story became mine</title><content type='html'>Tonight, I listened to my dad share his testimony at church and I will never forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened for me is that when I came to faith in Jesus, the gospel was clear. It was clear to me, that the only way I would know God is through Jesus. And that His cross and His resurrection came to me by faith alone, that I could not earn it. That was so abundantly clear- you're going to hear, for the rest of my life, the clarity of the gospel on my life, has revisited again and again and again.  As a pastor who has pastored as long as I have, studied the bible as long as I have, there is no more profound truth than the gospel of Jesus Christ. Every time my life is broken, every time I'm screwed up in my thinking, it is the gospel that brings me clarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad grew up in west Texas with a family who never went to church or talked about God. In the second grade, my Dad remembers asking his friends who went to church "What's it like?! What did you learn? I wish WE [my family] went to church!" He was drawn to the Lord and he thanks God for that grace. At 10 years old, he met Jesus at a rally. Even as a kid, he took his faith very seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In listening to him, God revealed his grace to me. I was able to identify with my Dad in realizing the many similarities in our stories. I also realized that God's grace, which has changed my Dad's life, is for the Christ-followers as much as it is for those who aren't. My dad, even after becoming a believer at 10 years old, never grew tired of hearing/preaching the gospel. In view of his own brokenness, my dad has continued to let the gospel take root in his heart so that everyday he is becoming who he was created to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I listened to my father tell of God's grace over his life, I was reminded of the grace God has shown me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year, God has saved me from myself. Even in my brokenness, brokenness that stemmed from a self focus, I thank God that I have lived in my parents' home this year. I have heard the gospel in my home through my Father and my Mother and I am different because of it. Now they told me the story of Jesus' death, resurrection, and power to save when I was six years old... and the gospel of Jesus Christ is still the best thing I EVER heard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to my Dad's story here: http://66.241.210.241/uploads/podcast/20090401_TG_TheJourney_4-4.mp3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-3273429631479452074?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/3273429631479452074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=3273429631479452074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/3273429631479452074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/3273429631479452074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-dads-story-became-mine.html' title='My Dad&apos;s story became mine'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-5082504437890486271</id><published>2009-03-31T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T14:57:03.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>how we run</title><content type='html'>&lt;sup  style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:georgia;" id="en-NIV-28549" class="versenum" value="24"&gt;I COR 9:24&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"24&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28550" class="versenum" value="25"&gt;25&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28551" class="versenum" value="26"&gt;26&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" id="en-NIV-28552" class="versenum" value="27"&gt;27&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I wouldn't consider myself a serious runner but I do enjoy making a routine out of x miles a week. Last night, I took a run and began to consider a few conversations I've had with others about what life we should live once, as people who have met Jesus and love him. I came to these parallels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The Ground:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;A run on trails is often more difficult than running on flat pavement. The scenery of a trail is more beautiful to the eye (usually) and while it's hills offer a challenge that promises some aches and pain, the view makes the pain worthwhile. The all natural seems to soothe and remind you of God's beauty and wonder, bringing life into perspective. A run on pavement roads, while flat and predictable, is simply boring. Since I've been away from Austin, I've struggled to run. I miss the terrain, the sights, smells, sunsets... the thrill, "Will I make it to the top of that hill without dying?" or "I can see everything from up here!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;A life lived in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;perspective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;that which is real-- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;the harsh elements, unpredictable and often painstakingly experienced-- is a reminder that you're alive! When pain is unavoidable, why not make the experience worth it? Run in view of the elements, the bare essentials. Run in view of the life given to you and the life breathed around you. Run in real life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Sure, a run on flat pavement offers challenge when I run much faster. Regardless of whether or not I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; run faster on flat pavement, I have little time to enjoy those/that whom/which I pass. I'm focused on my speed, rather than sharing in the experience of life with those things/people that are around me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;A while back, a friend once told me that angry people are people who resolve to live safely. I can't be one of those people. I've experienced highs and lows, and the lows have added all the more value to the journey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;So I like running hilly trails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The Community:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Running with people verses running by yourself can be left to one's preference (my preference often changes).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Running with people seems to take your mind off of the pain you are personally feeling. There is something else at stake besides your ability to push yourself. You are running with another to push them too. Competition and encouragement, all in one fail swoop are offered to he/she who will welcome either or both. However, it's looking to your right or left that slows you down. And pisses off your track coach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Sara &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Stavinoha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; and I really became friends through running. When we first ran together, I knew she was fast. But the closer friends we became, I think she became less hesitant to kick my ass. And she always did. The girl can run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;At first, I'd always be frustrated at myself! I'd compare myself as we were running and think if only I can emulate her posture, her gate, then I'd be able to run as fast as she could. It never worked. It wasn't until I began to understand that my body was built differently that I began to learn how I need to run differently not only to compensate for how I am built, but in order to run best. Still, Sara's relaxed posture, natural athleticism and speedy legs could push me, challenge me. Her voice could encourage me. Talking to her kept my mind of the pain and listening to her reminded me of the soul running with me. Runs with Sara-- as painful and challenging as they often were-- were usually my best runs, runs I still remember, runs I miss most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I do not want to fail to mention that there are times when a runner must focus on his own mess of a posture and gate. He or she may run alone and find the solitude refreshing. I've run with people before and thought, I don't want to focus on encouraging them or conversing with this person to help them run. I need time to myself, to focus, and find peace in the rhythm of my own steps or the Coupland tunes coming through my earphones, "Feel the pain, teaching us how much more we can take. Reminding us how far we have come. Let the pain put away from our hearts. We have time to start, all over again." I've cried and smiled while running to that little song all through college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Still, even the most introverted a runner needs a companion; whether it be a doctor, a trainer, a coach, a shoe store clerk, or the man who maintains the water jugs on the path. NO [runner] is an island (thank you, Thomas Merton).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I look forward to running with people the rest of my life on earth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The Perseverance: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;You'd think that perseverance would be the easiest illustration from which to draw similarities. My difficulty in writing this part may be an embarrassing sign that I have much more to learn. I don't know why I wrote embarrassing. (Sarah, you are human. surprise?!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;When I run, I often begin with the mindset, "if I can just make it to that second or third &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;mile point, I can turn around and come back. I will be halfway through and the rest of the run will be downhill(not literally, as I have qualified), making for a more enjoyable second leg." But I forget two things:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The point of running.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I have to turn around and run the same distance back home. Walking is not allowed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I hope I am making sense. My perseverance may be born out of a joy for discipline and glorifying my Creator and Father with my limbs. Or my perseverance may be born of the innate obligation to mark up a few miles on my running chart for the week in hopes it will make me feel less guilty for the extra M&amp;amp;Ms I ate at the wedding (I get to go to a lot of those). Oh I don't really have a running chart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;You get the point, though?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The development of perseverance is the culmination of God's glory in my life as I am becoming more and more like him, rather than it becoming something to hold up to others for show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;The Goal: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;In other words, the prize. What is the prize that Paul wrote about? What is it to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;A lot of people think it's the afterlife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;A lot of people think it's the journey itself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;I used to train to race. I never actually did. I always ended up with a stress fracture of some sort at about mile 9 in training.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;When I trained, I'd mostly run to the rhythm of dreams that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;marvelous things awaited me at the end of my long race on "my" day-- as if 10k other people aren't running the same race. I'd dream the ridiculous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People's approval for being, oh so "hardcore,"&lt;br /&gt;A six pack and size 0 waist line,&lt;br /&gt;A photo of me on the front page of the Chronicle "UT student, Sarah Beth Wesley... finished,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I dream today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success in implementing all my entrepreneurial ideas (i want it all!)&lt;br /&gt;Popularity (life is high school sometimes, thank you Super Chick)&lt;br /&gt;Recognition for my smarts, initiative and beauty (so roll your eyes... it's ok)&lt;br /&gt;Oh and a husband (what girl doesn't dream of running into a man's arms at some point. if you deny it, you're a lier.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my mind those thing make me a winner. Those things glamorize the race into something it was not. And they take away my enjoyment of training and developing my character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Paul says, men go into strict training and win a crown that they cannot keep. I do that. Dang it. I have been seemingly good, but clearly bad (not badass). And in light of my poor training, I've disqualified myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, God...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt; re-wrote the rules for the race.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;No longer do I have to train to win. Training alone can win me nothing. but I train to race. I realize that everybody races. And I want to race well for the prize. But for what prize? Whose glory?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Christ revealed the prize. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;He is showing me what it looks like everyday. It is the past, present and future Glory of God revealed in his son Jesus. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Christ is NOT a coach who pats me on the back or trainer who won't let up on me. Rather, he chose to enter the race he created, ran ahead, won, and gave me the trophy, already engraved with my name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;(ok here is a disclaimer: Don't look into the metaphore... I didn't think everything through as one might prefer.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-5082504437890486271?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/5082504437890486271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=5082504437890486271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/5082504437890486271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/5082504437890486271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-run-to-feel-i-dont-feel-to-feel.html' title='how we run'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-539314285538366386</id><published>2009-03-27T22:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T23:27:02.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let's define the relationship</title><content type='html'>Tonight, a friend told me that I should write things out. Another chimed in that writing is a healthy exercise in which everyone should partake. I dislike writing. I started thinking about my bog... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've tried to keep a blog going throughout college years (RIP) and was never successful. I always had trouble writing. I didn't know how to pen my thoughts on what I was experiencing at given points in time. Honestly, I want people to like reading what I write. But the truth is, I'm a horrible writer. And I don't particularly enjoy it. It definitely doesn't flow. And I get bad headaches. I actually thought about asking my sister to write my blog simply because it'd be nice to sound like she rights. Beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I am getting a headache. maybe this will be a picture blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, most days, I do have spurts of desire to write down what I am learning or experiencing and share with my friends, especially those whom are scattered across states and oceans. This doesn't replace the pair of eyes that could sit in front of me, but reality is I am in a city that is never "on the way" to anywhere. Few pass through. I have friends that I miss dearly and I do a poor job keeping in touch at the level where LIFE really happens. Thus, a blog could help, right? Everybody else is doing it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look at my blog, you will see few posts stretched out over months. I want to write on this blog more frequently than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel the need to post a disclaimer or "about my blog" information. The number of people who may ever read this blog may quite possibly be fewer than the number of children I will adopt one day (God willing- 2). So if you are reading, enjoy listening to me write to myself. And God. (Isn't that what Christians are "supposed" to say?) No, but really, look forward to pictures. I think I may get an iphone just for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think I'm going to post this to my facebook profile. maybe. ok, I will do it now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-539314285538366386?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/539314285538366386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=539314285538366386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/539314285538366386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/539314285538366386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2009/03/lets-define-relationship.html' title='let&apos;s define the relationship'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-4695219339997703393</id><published>2007-11-10T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T21:56:04.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My heart has 2 homes</title><content type='html'>I am going to keep this short because I am exhausted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I walked to the center to read at a coffee shop in town. I sat near the front window as I journaled and watched people strolling along the Peatonal- shopping, playing, chatting, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked around town after I left the coffee shop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an obsession with all the little boutiques in town- everything is so cheap. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, Artesian tents are set up along 3-4 blocks between my street and the plaza where all sorts of jewelry, candles, homemade crafts, candies, leather goods, and home decor are sold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I peered into each tent, curious to see if there were any new artists in town this weekend.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across a tent with a young boy selling handmade alpargatas in various patterns. They were 22 pesos- roughly  $7US. We had a little chat about alpargatas and TOMS. He didn't seem too interested. ha. As I got to the end of the row or tents, I came upon the plaza and the sky was all pink and bluish... giving everything a soft glow that really made it feel like summer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked past a giant menorah and into the central plaza. The plaza was FULL with people: artists, vendors, children playing and eating cotton candy, families taking pictures, little boys playing soccer... the fountain looked more lively than ever and the trees were green from the past two days of rain we've had. It was still chilly but just cool enough for a light jacket and a stroll. I walked my 20 min home with a little skip in my step. I thought about the little time I have left to spend with people here and how much I will miss them... and the long 40ish days I have until I can finally see friends and family at home, all of whom I miss so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought: I'm pretty blessed to feel so parted between these two worlds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-4695219339997703393?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/4695219339997703393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=4695219339997703393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/4695219339997703393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/4695219339997703393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2007/11/thankful.html' title='My heart has 2 homes'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-1346993526877423428</id><published>2007-11-10T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T11:49:55.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This was written like a month ago. I just forgot to post it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had a conversation with some Argentine youth (who will go unnamed) about the United States. She spoke English and wanted to travel to speak English and go to school abroad. When asked where she would go, she said “Not the United States- I don’t like the culture or the politics.” Funny, she has never been to the US. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then asked her what about the politics she doesn’t like. “Todo” meaning “all of it,” was her response. She couldn’t tell me what specifically she didn’t like- but she knew she hated Bush. Oh ok, well that’s a sufficient reason. Totally reasonable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t been angry, mainly just amused, when people criticize the US here. It’s funny to me. Their politicians are so corrupt and their people are naïve and apathetic, in general (I don’t want to make sweeping statement and apply stereotypes, though it may be hard to avoid). Still, they have a mouthful of criticism for Americans: we are too rich, all of us have pools in our backyards, we are naïve and don’t see what’s really going on in the world, our politicians are super corrupt and money-grubbing, we are ignorant and act entitled, and the list goes on… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am NOT denying those critics their right. They are right a lot of the time. Clearly, the US has her problems. Yet, someone has to ask “Why is the US where it is today? Why does our economy boom and our influence reach the world over?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were to say that Americans harder working, smarter, better looking, stronger, etc., you simply put down another nationality or culture. Then I’d be accused of prejudice or even… racism. Oh God no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is America where she is today? I’m not assuming that our position is good and almighty. I am asking why does America (EEUU for other Americans) find herself as THE key player in International Relations? I mean to say that if nations were playing a game of poker, America wouldn’t always have winning cards. But she would always be betting the most, calling every other nations’ bluff, and scoping out suspected cheaters. She’d always be playing. So why is America always in the game?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could the answer be that obvious? Could it really be the strong foundation that our forefathers (Madison, Paine, Franklin, Jefferson, etc.) gave us: A foundation of morals and values- more specifically, a value for life? Could it be the idea that everyman was created equally and given free reign and complete responsibility for his/her life so long as they stayed within the laws of the state- those, which only served to protect the general welfare and promote individual wellbeing? Could it be capitalism- the economy’s freedom from the government’s regulating hand? Could it be that it is a boiling pot of humanity… each man seeking religious, social, and economic freedom? Why would people be attracted to America? Could it be it is the representation of an ideal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I didn’t believe all that mentioned above  has contributed to America’s arrival at her present state, I would lie and say it was the strong foundation of values: morals, freedom, personal responsibility, and individual life.  What other reason could I give that wouldn’t make me out to be a “close minded red-neck” or the next Hitler? To claim that our land, people, or society is reasoning for our country’s status is to be borderline… racist? Close minded?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if it’s not any of the above reasons and God knows it isn’t luck, then what could it be? Values. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what else it could be? Whether you and I like it or not, our values drive what we say, think, and do. Our values drive our lives. For that matter, when one looses his or her values, what happens to them? What will happen to America? Will she stop being what our “founding fathers” found and become what other nations want her to be? I don’t know how that could happen if other nations can’t agree on what a perfect America would look like… especially when those nations are filled with youth that form their opinions based upon media and CNN. But that discussion can wait… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allow me to jump down off my soapbox. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To try to explain this in Spanish would have been suicide. Explaining what I truly meant would be twisted and hard to express accurately for a number of reasons. Mainly it was that meaning-language-cognitive constructions are ingrained and hard to deconstruct and reconstruct fast enough to carry on a conversation in a new language. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting to the part where I tell you what I am learning from this… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever felt like you have no language? I mean, you have a language, you understand through cognitive constructions that have developed your perception of the world. That’s a given. But have you ever felt like there are no words to express what you feel, see, believe… or desire. I felt like that today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is as if there is no way to even describe that which you are experiencing… because someone would have to walk in your shoes, erase every memory from the former life to take on only the experience of your life to finally understand your point of view, past understandings, personal preferences, etc. It’s impossible to do so. I can never be or understand completely anyone else. EVER. Let alone, I often have a hard time understanding myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week has been one of frustration and defeat. I feel like I am lo más peor (the WORST) at speaking in Spanish right now. So I’ve been watching a lot of English TV (“Estas viendo Warner Channel”) and reading things in English; I just miss stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the way people appreciate sarcasm and dry humor (I am a patron, an artist of neither one). I miss the way authenticity is valued. I miss the respect for authority or high regard for hard work. Last week, I had a professor announce that she wanted to move her test up a week and a half. That meant that we would take the test in only 2 more classes, or one week later. I had a one week notice to read about 150 pages of Administration material in Spanish. What’s more, the material I was initially given to read was the material for the next test and the professor chose to tell me this less than a week before the test would be given. That next week I had already bought tickets and made reservations to be in Chile all week. So when the trip was over, my next two days were dedicated to studying for this test. I read almost all the material and had a good understanding of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the test was given out, it was all questions that required regurgitation! “Draw this timeline and graph.” I could have simply read my notes and memorized things from the night before, but my method of studying was insufficient! EVERYTHING was regurgitation. I don’t do regurgitation. I made a 6.5 out of 10. That’s passing here. Come to find out though… the grade doesn’t count; only the final decides your grade for the semester. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, watching English TV- that’s how I dealt with my frustration! It’s not like doing these kinds of things make me feel better, they just help delay the inevitable inner struggle: to submit and conform to a language world that I initially chose to enter… or to resist the culture’s influence and grow increasingly frustrated or bitter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found that I do this with Christ. I chose to enter into a relationship with the son of God. This implies a cause, rather a need. I had a need and wanted to ultimately pursue another world other than the one in which I live. Within this new world, rather this kingdom, cognitive constructions couldn’t be more different than those of my formal world. It’s as if my understanding of what I feel, see, believe, and even desire has changed because the meaning of the world has changed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what will help me ease into the culture of this new world? Well watching English TV… any TV for that matter, doesn’t help (in both worlds: Spanish and Kingdom)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, I’ve found not much can keep the culture shock from happening. It is during this time, you cry the most, you feel the deepest, you laugh hardest, and act in the weirdest ways, etc… most importantly, this is the time when friendships are valued and found to be true or false, leaving no room for the mediocre. You desire your best friends, your family, your siblings. ha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually called my little sister to chat just because I missed my best friend! At the end of our conversation she told me "I understand what you mean." I couldn't help but cry. I missed someone understanding, someone who knew me well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think God has been trying to teach me how to be a friend and how to love people. I don't listen like I should or try to understand my friends all the time and know them... because that's hard to do. It takes an emotional investment and nowadays, our culture is into all investments except those emotional. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I was signing the facebook wall of one of my newest and dearest friends here in Mendoza (Laura, an exchange student from Columbia) and she had a quote that said this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the heart of each and every one of us there is a longing to be understood by someone who really cares. When a person is understood, he or she can put up with almost anything in the world.&lt;br /&gt;-Rev Ed Hird&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe it. When you look at the deepest friendships, the most secure relationships, and the longest lasting marriages… you see a root in understanding. I do not mean to say that understanding a person 24/7 is necessary for a good relationship. I do mean to say that the person who has someone in their life, who seems to understand them and want to know their heart, seems to deal with life pretty well. If I was a friend who practiced understanding... I think I'd be a better friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I simply feel understood, I feel pretty great. I feel REALLY great! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess before I start ranting and raving as I did earlier, I should try to understand before I seek to be understood. That is sacrifice, selflessness, love... being a friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-1346993526877423428?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/1346993526877423428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=1346993526877423428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/1346993526877423428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/1346993526877423428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-was-written-like-month-ago.html' title=''/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-1814190306512139288</id><published>2007-09-05T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T21:23:45.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time, long way coming...</title><content type='html'>These past 7 weeks here in Argentina have been packed full of Spanish speaking, meat eating, horseback riding, Argentine greeting (cheek kissing), tango dancing, empanada baking, leather shopping, llama picture taking, mountain hiking, soccer playing, Mate (regional tea) drinking, wine tasting, boots wearing, site-seeing, museum touring, and water-bottle buying! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been terrible at updating everyone and I really can't give an excuse except that I just get busy with the things of my life here. It's weird. I have one responsibility- go to class. And yet, I can't seem to make myself rest, be still and quiet, pray, and read scripture. I finally have free time and I don't know what to do with it. I've realized how fast I often go without pausing to enjoy the life I am living. Right now, I am craving time in the beautiful park down the street... to sit under a tree, take in the sun, and share my heart and my dreams with God. And yet, I can't seem to muster up the will to do it! It's almost like I've forgotten how to rest well. I've forgotten how to be still and know He is God. It was supposed to be easy for us (hence, the command to honor the sabbath, or take a day of rest). They rest well here though and they enjoy the simpler things more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the afternoon, everything closes and everyone here goes home or to the park where you will find people talking, eating lunch, drinking mate(the regional drink of Argentina), taking in the sun, playing with their kids, running with their friends, sitting and enjoying the silence. They do it well, because they practice this often. I pray that I can learn to rest well, because it is in the quiet and the rest that I submit everything to God and take in the peace that he offers! It is the time I take to sit down and share a conversation with someone that I learn about life, myself, this world, and God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, though the Argentine's little siesta time in the afternoon often inconveniences and bewilders the foreigners (since everything is closed and we can't shop or buy anything or go to the bank; also providing less revenue and opportunity for profit), I envy the cultural value for relaxation, rest, and enjoyment of those simpler things in life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my last blog, I've traveled north to Salta y Jujuy (northern region of Argentina). The girls from my program and I took an 18 hour bus ride and upon our arrival, got settled into our hosteria, then we headed for Colorado Pass. We took a beautiful hike through the pass and shopped in the quaint little village below. The next day, we headed to Salta, about two hours back south. The real adventure started there! When we arrived, our hostel reservation was only for 4, not for 7. We didn't want to split the group up, so we began an hour long search for another place to stay. But it was holiday for Argentines, thus, we were homeless... until an old woman offered to lease us an apartment for a reasonable price for our 2 nights in the city. Upon walking into the place, we took notice of only 4 mattresses. So she said she'd obviously provide 2 more for us, still leaving us one short. Two girls slept on those mattresses on the floor and the rest slept in beds, requiring that two girls squeeze into one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sheets had clearly not been cleaned (half of us found hair or dirt in our beds), the place had a strong stench, and we couldn't get the heater to work. Yup, it was cold. Our kind old landlord, Graciela, who was sure to tell Natalia (one of the girls of Jewish decent) that as a Catholic, she had nothing against the Jews, decided to charge us an extra 20 pesos per mattress. Pshh Totally reasonable! It was about this time, that I realized how impatient I often am and how entitled I act! WOW. Reality check was definitely in order! All the other girls took the situation laughing and I learned A LOT about how humor can really bring light to a situation such as we experienced! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the trip was a blast, complete with a bike-ride to a nearby town, glorious meals of Noquis and Llama meat, shopping (i bought some SWEET jeans and a few girls found some great leather!) and meeting a few other exchange students from Cordoba! Oh and I took a pic with a llama! It was kind of surreal since we had just eaten some meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breaking the apartment heater (no worries, with the help of a coke bottle, it could stay on the wall and semi-function according to Graciela) taking group pictures, and saying our sad goodbyes to Graciela... we headed back home! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, I have really enjoyed my classes in Spanish, though I often feel frustrated with my inability to understand the complete thoughts of my profs. I often get really down on myself. But the group of girls that I am with are REALLY encouraging and remind me not to take life or myself so seriously, we just need to enjoy the ride and learn what we can! Seems to be a theme, huh!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the other 7 girls that I hang out with, we often shop together, go out together, and hit on boys together! A few of our little excursions/adventures follow:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a Mexican restaurant down the street from my house for Natalia's bday. The food was not Mexican, might I add. Ha! They have no idea what picante is here! Anyway, the waiter was a typical Argentine young male... and super hot! So one of us had to leave our number just for kicks, duh! And who had the honor? None other, than yours truly. After leaving my digits, I got a call within the hour from a Mr. Abel. The hottie went out one night with the 8 of us chicas! We found out that he was still taking highschool classes because when he was 15 he was drafted into Buenos Aires' soccer team. He played for them until last year. Needless to say, we were pumped to be out with a pro soccer player all night! Sadly, we haven't seen him since except when he goes to work across the street. awkward. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SKIING in the Andes Mountains! Yup I did. I mean I did half the time, the other half I was on my butt sliding down trying to keep my fear at a minimum. However, the views were wonderful and my time with Christy and Mary was such a blast! We were about at the same level and skied a little path down to the lodge after lunch at the top of the lift. The view, as I said, was breathtaking. But so different from Colorado. Here there were NO trees. Not one. I mean, it eliminates a few (maybe a lot) of hazards... but it was weird. Still, what a sight it was! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shopping here is amazing! It's so cheap! But dangerous, because you think you are saving money when in reality you end up spending more than you normally would! I'm saving up for some leather boots- legit leather knee-high boots- that will cost a whopping 120$  US dollars... maybe less. BTW Leather is so great and so easy to come by!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bars here are not like the bars of the states. They are more like coffee shops that serve alcohol and people typically eat and sit at tables all night, talking until 3 or 4 in the morning. I love this time of the week when we can relax and enjoy taking and hanging out as late into the night as we want. Here it's normal to stay out until 5 or 6. Crazy I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, Mary and I went to a lunch for a club called the Mendoza Expats. They are a group of foreighners (from the US, Europe, Asia, etc) that have come to Argentina to live and work. Mary and I sat next to an old couple, Bob and Ann Clark. They were a riot. Both ex-professors from Washington state, they were looking to buy land in South America. They were headed to Chile in the coming months to check out the fly fishing. Bob introduced us to the handsome son of a British television typhoon type, reminding us that he was rich, good-looking, and rich. It was clear Bob had a hobby of matchmaking. Oh but he and his wife still seemed just as in love, even though he had to be at least 75 years old. They were so kind and invited us to the house where they were staying in Mendoza. And not to mention, Bob so considerately sent two older guys (from England and Holland) after us to ask us out for a beer. Turned off by the cupped wine stain on the Brit's upper lip, I politely declined. But that didn't deter the blond Dutch guy from hitting on Mary. It was more than entertaining! We owe a big thanks to Bob! We will be returning to next month's affair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy and I went to hang out with the youth group (They call them jovenes, and they are considered the kids between the ages of 17-25) of a friend's church on Saturday. We'd been to the church on Sundays and enjoyed the sermons. But we are trying to make some great Argentine friends. It was definitely made easy Saturday night! The people are wonderful, welcoming, and love foreign students! I really hope to continue to build relationships there and have that be a place where I can be poured into, where I can be reminded of the truth of God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesdays, I've been playing soccer with Lindsey Hodge (a friend from highschool and church) who is missionary on a YWAM (Youth With A Mission) base. They do a sports/soccer school and two of my friends (Danny and Raynor) go out to join the fun! It really is a blast and I love getting to play with guys who are REALLY good. However, the soccer isn't too intense as there are a lot of people who play, that have never played before. And being with Lindsey is always so fun! Their living situation on the base seems so hard... but she talks about it in a way that makes it so funny! Seriously, she and the girls need to write a book! Anyway, I love playing soccer with them each Wednesday night... not to mention beating up on Raynor and Danny... ppshhh hardly. It's more the other way around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Spanish class here is increasingly becoming my favorite class simply for its relaxed nature and the class bond that comes with it! We are all basically in love with our professor Gladys! She's an absolute riot and so sweet and patient! I am definitely thankful to be in the lowest level of Spanish where the bonds run deep and  the laughs are plenty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, I went to my first Asado. Asado is basically a BBQ. But here, they cook their meat with salt, only! Cooking your meat with spices is looked down upon as it means that the meat is of lower quality and needs the spices to enrich the flavor. The Asado was held at my host Mom's ex-husband's parents' house in San Martin, an hour from Mendoza. The cousins were all there and it was so great to see my host family enjoying their family time. We just hung out, played on the swings, laid out in the sun, took naps, chatted, drank mate, and ate a lot of meat! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, I am going to an Argentine Quinceanera! It's the birthday party of my host mom's friend's daughter. I am really excited and will be sure to take plenty of pictures as it is going to be a really big deal! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful for all of your prayers and ask that you keep in touch! I'd love to hear from you! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayer request:&lt;br /&gt;1. My Spanish to improve, God will be my strength and receive the glory for it.&lt;br /&gt;2. That I will forge deep friendships here&lt;br /&gt;3. I REALLY miss UT football and fall season life at UT right now. Pray that I will still take every advantage I can to enjoy this gift of studying Abroad while I am here! As small as this sounds, it weighs on my heart at times!&lt;br /&gt;5. That I will be a sources of support and love for other students here. I can only do this if I am going to God to receive all those things. &lt;br /&gt;6. That God will provide an internship and eventually a job for me when I get home! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks again for your prayers! Email me at sewesley@gmail.com to keep in touch! I'd love to hear from you! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-1814190306512139288?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/1814190306512139288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=1814190306512139288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/1814190306512139288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/1814190306512139288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2007/09/long-time-long-way-coming.html' title='Long time, long way coming...'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-2871156403837357095</id><published>2007-07-20T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T16:44:50.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sole, Soul, Sol... it's all the same...</title><content type='html'>So I made it to BA! Can you believe it? Why wouldn't you!? I'll you why! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my beautiful parents and the safety of their protective arms in the Bush Int. Airport around 4:30pm Wednesday afternoon. My flight left Houston at 5:40 pm packed full of highschool kids and headed for turbulance! Swanky. Upon arriving in Miami, I went directly to my gate for the flight to BA where I found 20 nervous looking students (like myself) waiting for their fated plane to arrive. After it was delayed three times (until 2:45 am) our flight was canceled. So what does AA do? (AA means American Airlines) They give us vouchers to get into a hotel and vouchers for the bus ride there. Then we can take the 10:15am flight. Now as you read this, you're probably thinking, oh how nice of AA, taking care of their customers. Well they did give us vouchers. But when we arrived at the front of the airport to take vans to the hotels, we were told our vouchers were no good because the destination on the travel vouchers didnt match the hotel vouchers we had. After 2 hours of craziness- getting on and off busses, screaming, crying, sorrow, sweat and blood- Caitlin (one of the girls in the group) and I made it to the hotel around 4:30am. We slept for two hours in one of the guys rooms on their extra bed because there was no room for us in the inn... I mean the hotel... yeah when we arrived the waiting time to get a room was an hour and a half. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a goodnight's sleep of a whopping two hours, we woke up to the sun shining through our window with 15 minutes until we had to meet the bus. Yep, our morning wake up call never... called. Thank you Lord we got up when we did. I was the first one up and if you know me, I DONT ever get up when I should. When we got downstairs with our luggage in hand, ready to get to the airport and get on our flight, the SAME crazy man was there already arguing with one of us- AGAIN- about who knows what. We were all confused. But thank you God that we convinced him to let us get on the bus and to the airport. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot tell you how glad we were to actually get on the plane. The flight wasn't bad at all and everyone had a comradery already after having been through so much! So that was a plus. A few people's luggage arrived late in BA but it got there after a few days! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BA was fun as I roomed with Christy and Austin from Davidson college! They are so fun! Christy is from Austin and we both discovered we were both part of the poopy club! Oh Joy! So we were instant friends. What's more, we are so much alike that we BOTH slept late and were late to orientation two days in a row! Oh but the laughs made it worth it! We left for Mendoza only two days after being in BA- the 21st.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving in Mendoza, Jose through us to the wolves that are our Argentine parents! They were all waiting at the gate with anticipation, holding our names in hand, some jumping up and down! My mom was more calm and cool about the excitment as other parents were running and screaming out the student's name... what a site it was. Each student was greeted with kisses and hugs and bienvenidos (welcome!). My host mom was so sweet. She introduced me to her eldest daughter, Paula, and her ex esposo Juan Carlos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home and they made some great beef, potatoes, and veggies... what else? I also met the other daughter named Valentina (Vale for short). She and Paula (Pau) are absolutely gorgeous! I mean, they could be models! They both speak English but their mom won't them with me. After about 12 hours of sleep, Nora (host mom) took me to the park nearby to show me where I could go running and where everyone drank mate (the herbal tea made popular by Argentines). It was a sunday morning so people were everywhere drinnking mate, playing soccer, having picnics... it was one of the most beautiful parks I have ever seen. trees are huge and there is a man made lake for remo (rowing). There is also an island that;s called the island of Love. Yeah, Jose told us NOT to go there as the PDA only intensifies. And I'm amazed that it could... sheesh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been here 8 days now. And I love the city! It's very different from Valdivia as it's bigger and not as family friendly. However, it's older, more conservative (than other cities in Argentina) and the coffee shop culture is HUGE here! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so sunny here all the time!!! Everyone is really friendly, especially the older people. The city is full of tourists who come for the mountains and to ski. In about a week or so, they will be gone and WE will be starting classes at the university. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished all of our orientations on Friday and afterwards went out to celebrate... around 12 (AM!) Yeah, things here always begin late. WT? (TOMS intern inside comment- here is the official shout out to you lovelies)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a night out, people go to bars which are not anything like the bars in the states. They are more classy than places to drink and hook up. The bars here are like coffee shops. They are well lit, with places to sit down in large groups. You can order meals and enjoy wine with friends. That all happens until about 2. Then everyone goes to the discotechs or the Boliches (dancing). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wanted to go to a TAPAS bar that looked very nice but a little too nice for us. So as we are standing on the street deciding what to do, three nice boys walked up and asked if we were lost or where we were going. The more outgoing of us (aka Katie Rae) actually answered them as the rest of us just stood there admiring the one chico who happened to be REALLY good looking. He told Katie of a new bar we should go to... and asked if they could meet us there. They did. We were quite a spectacle as there were 9 of girls! Seeing as we were not into the bar, the boys brought us to a Boliche- a very happening Boliche. They were a lot of fun but a few too many people for me. We were lucky all of the guys from the prgram were there! However, I had a blast dancing with the girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the night, two of the girls (Katie Rae and Krysha) had captured a two of the Argentine boys' hearts. Today they had a double date in the park to drink Mate and talk! The rest of us are living vicariously through them! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, a few of us went out for dinner but we were so tired from the night before (and we came back two hours before the Boliche closed at 6am). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE OUR GROUP of girls here! I feel so blessed to know each of them! We are all so different but we have so much fun and laugh A LOT! And as Jose, our director says, that is how you deal with your bad days here- YOU LAUGH! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, Christy, Katie Rae, Krysha, Austin, Mary, Natalia and I are here. We were just talking about how we will be here for each other when we fall apart... I mean a few of us already have. It's hard being here sometimes when it's cold, you're tired of spanish, and you can't stand being away from things that are familiar. But we are blessed to have one another! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Jose took us to the park to show us everything and at the end of the tour, he took us to a tree, and told us to take 10 minutes and do what many people in Mendoza do... soak up the positive energy of nature become one with the universe. I didn't want to laugh. But when I looked at everyone around me, they couldn't take him seriously. I mean, I understand being grateful for the earth and for nature. But only because it's been given to us by a God that loves us. As jose was laying in the grass soaking up the positive energy, I watched as everyone else was talking with one another, laying out in the sun, and making a circle to throw the frisbee around. I mean, that's what we were made for: RELATIONSHIPS... COMMUNITY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it were only for nature, I'd hate Medoza. But I have these wonderful friends here and I hope to make even more. It's the laughing, smiling, talking, and even crying I experience each day with the people here that make life rich. And I consider it a gift from God. Hugging a tree means nothing to me. It doesn;t hug back. God put us here to be in community with him and with one another. I am learning that regardless of our faults and our shortcomings, God has made us each so different and wonderfully. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a few prayer requests for yous back home in the states: Pray I understand God's conviction about my life here in Mendoza, pray that God works through me to do whatever he wants, that HIS love is what flows through me, that I won't judge anyone, but love them all, that God will strengthen me to learn and not grow tired of my classes but seize the day and soak up everything I can as this whole thing is a gift, pray that he will reveal himself to all of us here, pray that there will be a church near here that we can join if we want and the Argentines will accept us. Here, the students study in groups so we Americans will need a lot of help. Pray that God gives us Argentine friends. Pray that God teaches us that HIS LOVE is what gives us life and that His Glory is shown when we recieve it. Pray for His glory to be shown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you guys at home and miss yall A LOT. But know that God gives us good gifts and He has blessed me with people here! Just pray for me when you can! Much love and many thanks for your friendship and love! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paz=Peace&lt;br /&gt;Sarah Beth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My info contact: sewesley@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juan B. Justo 781&lt;br /&gt;Mendoza, Argentina, 5500&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-2871156403837357095?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/2871156403837357095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=2871156403837357095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/2871156403837357095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/2871156403837357095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2007/07/sole-soul-sol-its-all-same.html' title='Sole, Soul, Sol... it&apos;s all the same...'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-2048588711561449626</id><published>2007-07-10T01:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T01:50:02.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving on a Jet Plain</title><content type='html'>I want to know that I will be back again, back in LA again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't written much... I mean I lived here 6 weeks and they've flown by! So much has happened and yet, I am constantly amazed at how God works his ways into our lives...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of all the ups and downs, God's grace has been evident in my friends at TOMS and at Mosaic Church. I am so thankful for their love and friendship. In both settings, I've learned what following Christ is all about. But more importantly, I've learned that the workings of his grace and power are buried in the depths of our souls, waiting to be awakened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful for this opportunity to be here at TOMS and I pray that I will return to work, play, or help the company and those who work for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I leave for Clear Lake! I am home for two days (long enough to see Paige, Katie, Marty, and hopefully Gatz) Then my fam (mom, dad, sisters, aunt, uncle, and cousins) and I are headed for a little Get-away at the lake before I fly off and away into the south... the deep, deep south...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beginning to think Southern Sole REALLY fits. But Southern Sol fits better! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-2048588711561449626?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/2048588711561449626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=2048588711561449626' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/2048588711561449626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/2048588711561449626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2007/07/leaving-on-jet-plain.html' title='Leaving on a Jet Plain'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2961997266447047543.post-1981653032653211100</id><published>2007-06-16T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T22:46:43.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Southern girl going west... oh glory!</title><content type='html'>Is Texas part of the South? All the girls here at TOMS, those from Georgia don't seem to think so. When I chose the name Southern Sole for my nick name at TOMS, they didn't see the connection. I almost cried. Though I have Texas pride, I do love the south- in the most politically correct way of course! So when I lost that battle with the "true southerners" of TOMS (Lindsey and Sarah), Jaci, Jill, and I(Austin's Angels as Brad Otts so kindly calls us!) picked fights with the rest of the staff!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat in the middle of the office, singing "Deep in the Heart of Texas" and declaring our allegiance to Texas, the only state that was once its own country! NO ONE believed that tidbit of history! Can you believe no one ever told them of our great state? I know, it shocked us too! They thought we were telling stories!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To say the least, we impressed few with our Texas pride. Lucky for us, the chief shoe-giver at TOMS (Blake) is a home-grown Texan. Oh glory!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My past three weeks here have been a roller coaster and I am loving the ride! I don't know if I have ever lived in a diverse atmosphere as this... the girls are so sweet, loud, kind, crazy, and each have their own "ness" that make them completely- them. I have learned something from each of them and have loved watching them work and play each day in LA! Whether we are encouraging each other in the midst of our struggles or fighting over the cleanliness of the condo, La casa de TOMS is a place of love and sisterhood! I seriously feel like we could be our own sorority, or reality show. Whichever Blake prefers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2961997266447047543-1981653032653211100?l=southernsol.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/feeds/1981653032653211100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2961997266447047543&amp;postID=1981653032653211100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/1981653032653211100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2961997266447047543/posts/default/1981653032653211100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://southernsol.blogspot.com/2007/06/southern-girl-going-west-oh-glory.html' title='Southern girl going west... oh glory!'/><author><name>sarahbeth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00797445011616567278</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3nZKZFWk6xs/S2PkzKaV2iI/AAAAAAAAATY/OyTAADFzDZw/S220/IMG_2243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
