<?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-4049136984941184341</id><updated>2011-04-22T00:09:56.648-05:00</updated><category term='Union'/><category term='Patience'/><category term='Darlene Czech'/><category term='Obedience'/><category term='Mangos'/><category term='tornado'/><category term='pray'/><category term='Hillsong'/><category term='Beth Moore'/><category term='Honduras'/><category term='ration'/><category term='Music'/><title type='text'>This Is What I See</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-9160408376533122006</id><published>2008-11-04T02:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T02:42:24.775-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a big day in the US of A...</title><content type='html'>Not to be Captain Obvious or anything, but it is a big day for the United States.  The polls will open and thousands will vote.  There is always controversy during election season and people allow the stress of not knowing who will be our next President get the better of them, sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one knows what the outcome of today's election will be, but I do know this...God is in control and He already knows who our next President is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's trust Him today and take Him at His word in Romans 13:1, "Let every person be subject to the governing authorities.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happens, we know through God's Word (look at Kings...) that God is the one who raises leaders up and who also brings them down, whether they are good or evil, ultimately to glorify Himself and show His power.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-9160408376533122006?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/9160408376533122006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=9160408376533122006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/9160408376533122006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/9160408376533122006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-big-day-in-us-of.html' title='It&apos;s a big day in the US of A...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-6644061295282056261</id><published>2008-11-02T12:38:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T13:05:55.972-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss them...</title><content type='html'>I've been here for 2 weeks now. I've enjoyed having the apartment to myself, but I knew I would get to this point eventually...let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never lived by myself until now.  When I left home for college, I shared a small dorm room with this sweet girl, Kristin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ30mbRKHiI/AAAAAAAACD0/RnW47ihXFD0/s1600-h/IMG_0318.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ30mbRKHiI/AAAAAAAACD0/RnW47ihXFD0/s400/IMG_0318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264132480457907746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's not a very good picture of us, but it's the only one I could find.  We were roomies from the very start, and I could not have asked the Father for a better one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our sophomore year, the two of us moved down the hill to the apartments, and after a rough semester of learning roommate-picking lessons, we filled our apartment with Janet, Courtney and Ashley....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ31RgCDiiI/AAAAAAAACD8/7JacLp8jY8Q/s1600-h/DSCF2253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ31RgCDiiI/AAAAAAAACD8/7JacLp8jY8Q/s400/DSCF2253.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264133220471114274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture was taken right before Ashley walked down the aisle in June of 2007, after the five of us and the three other bridesmaids, Ashley's best friends from high school, had a dance party in the Bride's Room while we were waiting for time....á la "5207."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Ashley got a new roommate, AKA her new husband, Chris, Emily (and Bob...) moved in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ33CvYceiI/AAAAAAAACEE/B-PZh_p7fq4/s1600-h/IMG_1025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ33CvYceiI/AAAAAAAACEE/B-PZh_p7fq4/s400/IMG_1025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264135165916772898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bob was the security mannequin we had in our living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had many fun times together.  We made a tent in our living room for valentine's day since none of us had dates, pulled out the hide-a-bed, had fondue, watched a chick flick, and had a slumber party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dressed up one night and made the boys that were in our "group" go to a fancy restaurant with us for dessert...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ34NRSW8fI/AAAAAAAACEU/YrNVmnu5nG4/s1600-h/IMG_0432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ34NRSW8fI/AAAAAAAACEU/YrNVmnu5nG4/s400/IMG_0432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264136446328369650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through it all, there were times when we disagreed with each other and had to get away for a while.  For three years, we lived together.  We shared living space.  We shared our lives.  For three years, there were times when one of us couldn't find something.  I know that there were times when I just wanted my things to be where I left them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But having my own apartment, and having my stuff where I left it all the time, doesn't replace this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ35GLLUXxI/AAAAAAAACEc/xaRIBirlalQ/s1600-h/IMG_1103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ35GLLUXxI/AAAAAAAACEc/xaRIBirlalQ/s400/IMG_1103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264137423940771602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's not very often that 5 girls can share a two bedroom, two bath apartment for almost three years and come out of it loving each other as much as the five of us do.  He simply blessed us with grace and patience with each other, as well as the common bond of loving Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls...I miss y'all so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-6644061295282056261?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/6644061295282056261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=6644061295282056261' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6644061295282056261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6644061295282056261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-miss-them.html' title='I miss them...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SQ30mbRKHiI/AAAAAAAACD0/RnW47ihXFD0/s72-c/IMG_0318.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7387711229186284076</id><published>2008-10-17T12:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T12:53:39.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I made it!</title><content type='html'>Hey everyone...thanks so much for your prayers as I traveled over the last several hours.  My luggage (all of it!) and I made it to Bucharest just fine.  My flight out of Dallas was delayed 4 hours, but I'm thankful to God for allowing me those extra hours to spend with my family.  And once I got to my connection I had already been re-booked on the next flight in to Bucharest.  Timing was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going to try and curb this thing they call jet lag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7387711229186284076?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7387711229186284076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7387711229186284076' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7387711229186284076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7387711229186284076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-made-it.html' title='I made it!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4891518891480326540</id><published>2008-10-08T14:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T14:47:14.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want to pack...</title><content type='html'>So anyone who has moved around a lot or traveled a lot knows that it's kindof a pain to pack and an even bigger pain to unpack.  Well, I've been back in town for almost a week and I still have not unpacked from orientation.  I know, I know, I need to, but at this point I have so much to do (including unpacking and repacking) that I just want to sit here and do nothing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will put in some unpacking time here in a little bit.  I need to do laundry, also, which if you know me at all you know that laundry is my least favorite chore of all.  I think it has something to do with growing up overseas with household help...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also am praying that God would multiply the hours in the day because there just don't seem to be enough.  Yesterday I had a great day with two of my former roommates.  They went with me to the mall as I bought a few last-minute clothes for winter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My calendar has quickly filled up, and I still have people that I want to see and spend time with.  The problem is that once you graduate from college and people get full time jobs, they can't just run out to lunch with you or share an afternoon coffee.  So I know that during the time that my favorite people are at work, I need to unpack and do laundry.  But again, I don't want to.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is something about having packed my life up so many times I feel like I lose a sense of belonging once my stuff is in boxes and suitcases.  Maybe not.  Any thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sum up this post in three short statements,&lt;br /&gt;1. I haven't unpacked from Orientation, which means that I clearly have not even begun to think about packing for Romania.&lt;br /&gt;2. I need to do laundry, but I just wish that clothes could wash themselves.&lt;br /&gt;3. I need more time.  Thank God for the Body of Christ and for the hope of Heaven.  Amanda, I completely understand what you referred to when you and Curtis left Irving...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4891518891480326540?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4891518891480326540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4891518891480326540' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4891518891480326540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4891518891480326540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-dont-want-to-pack.html' title='I don&apos;t want to pack...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-2066724754973767125</id><published>2008-09-24T18:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T21:39:02.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I know...it's been 2 weeks...</title><content type='html'>So Orientation is almost over.  In one week, I will have been commissioned and I will be getting ready to fly back to Dallas the next day.  What a whirlwind this has been.  It feels like I got here yesterday, yet I've learned so much.  I'm reminded more and more every day that I need to make Him a priority.  I'm reminded of it even more when I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I'm put in a new situation, I learn more and more about myself.  This time I have been reminded of how God has blessed me to make friends easily.  I did not have a hard time making friends when I went to college, nor did I have a hard time in the last 2 months making friends.  I know He is faithful, but I still am afraid of what my friend situation will look like once I get to Romania, simply because I won't be taking classes (except language, praise the Lord!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm just afraid of the unknown.  In my flesh, I am afraid.  I know God is already there, though, and that is good for my spirit.  It is not the unknown to Him, and therefore I try not to worry.  But my flesh worries.  I need to live in the Spirit and not worry.  So pray that I will build relationships once I get there with other people my age.  There is no one in my city that works for the same organization that I do that is my age. Pray that I would have opportunities to even meet others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my biggest desires (besides learning the language) is to also build relationships with nationals.  I don't desire to surround myself only with other GCCs (Great Commission Christians) from the United States.  I know that other GCCs will be important for my spiritual growth, especially where Christian fellowship comes in, but I guess my MK instinct is to want to blend with the culture and become part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this post is everywhere, but it's been several hours since I started writing...I went for coffee and a wal-mart run in between, so I've had some time to think and come back with a different perspective maybe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh quick request before I go....this nasty 24 hour stomach bug has been going around this place like crazy.  I don't normally get stuff that goes around, thank-you to my iron stomach that was developed while living in the middle of no where. Anyway, I don't want to start now. It seems to have a 1 week incubation period after being exposed, 6-8 hours of continuous "getting sick" at least hourly, and then major fatigue...followed by being perfectly back to normal 24 hours after it's showed up.  Pray that I don't get it, because I dont'want to be sick on the plane, visiting friends, or meeting my niece for crying out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks friends...I love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-2066724754973767125?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/2066724754973767125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=2066724754973767125' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2066724754973767125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2066724754973767125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-knowits-been-2-weeks.html' title='I know...it&apos;s been 2 weeks...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1884825136821667885</id><published>2008-09-10T06:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T06:57:59.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm an Aunt Now!</title><content type='html'>Praise the Lord! My niece was born yesterday afternoon!!!  Her name is Sahara Xiomara (Sahara pronounced with the second "a" sound like "ah") and she was 6lb 8.9oz and I'm told perfect in every way.  I sill have not gotten any pictures, but I'm thankful for this precious life and already love her so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1884825136821667885?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1884825136821667885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1884825136821667885' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1884825136821667885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1884825136821667885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-aunt-now.html' title='I&apos;m an Aunt Now!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1083811350381177726</id><published>2008-09-07T20:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T21:21:56.022-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Big Fat Greek Sunday</title><content type='html'>So one of the things that our supervisors recommend that we do is to attend a worship service close to what the traditional religion we will be faced with once we get to the field (does this make any sense at all?).  So, considering that the predominant religion in Romania is Orthodoxy, and there is a Greek Orthodox church in downtown Richmond, my small group and I went to a Greek Orthodox service today.  Really only 3 of us in the group will be dealing with Orthodox, but some others wanted to go just for the experience...or to see what the difference is between Orthodox and Roman Catholic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we walked into the sanctuary and the first thing that I noticed was that the place smelled like Incense.  I mean, if a hippie runs out of incense, they just need to hit up the local Orthodox church and be set for life.  Anyway, we got there right at 10:00 which is what time the service was said to begin.  There were only like 10 or 15 people in the whole sanctuary when we first got there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The priest at the front had on a beautiful robe and was swishing the incense through the air.  I saw some people walk up to the front of the sanctuary where they had icons (pictures of saints) with red candles.  The people with the candle would walk up to the icon of choice, place the candle at the foot of the picture, and then kiss the picture of the saint at the feet.  It was really sad because this showed me that they think a painting will answer their prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I observed was that the liturgy was read out of a little book.  The little book had liturgy in Greek on one side and in English on the other side.  Sometimes the liturgy was read in Greek and then in English, and others it was read in only one or the other.  Half of what was read/recited from the liturgy was spoken, and half was sung.  I didn't realize that there was a choir in the balcony until the service was almost over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through the service, they took communion.  So people would go up to the front to receive communion and come back to their seats with huge chunks of bread.  It was like....a mid-service snack, really.  Some people came back to their seats with multiple pieces of bread to pass out to their children.  Oh and they drank the wine (I'm sure it wasn't Baptist grape juice). Funny, I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the last things I noticed was what was going on in the little room behind all the pews.  There was a glass wall with a door for people to come through once they had done their business in the foyer.  They would walk up to the little podium with an icon on it, cross themselves, and then kiss the icon.  I just kept wondering to myself how many lips have touched that piece of wood and how many diseases get passed around in that church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I noticed in the service was that just about all the people in there had big Greek noses.  A true sign that they were truly Greek.  Oh and by the end of the service (which by the time it was over it was 12:00noon, meaning the service was 2 hours long), the place was packed out.  I mean Standing Room Only. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon before the end of the service, a man with his two kids showed up in the pew in front of me.  The kids were so misbehaved I felt really bad for the dad.  And then I realized that the dad was calling his son "Nikko."  Yes, the boy's name was Nikko.  That was the highlight of my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1083811350381177726?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1083811350381177726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1083811350381177726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1083811350381177726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1083811350381177726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-big-fat-greek-sunday.html' title='My Big Fat Greek Sunday'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4124221880647670086</id><published>2008-09-01T14:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T19:27:47.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Pray...</title><content type='html'>Friends, Please pray for my brother, his co-workers, and students as they deal with the loss of my brother's cooperating teacher in Irving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother teaches 2nd grade, and tomorrow will have to help 30 2nd graders that he and this other teacher team-taught deal with the unfortunate loss of their teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and her husband, who have been married just over a month, were killed in a car wreck overnight in Dallas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the link to the Dallas Morning News article&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/090208dnmetcrash.32a228ca.html"&gt;http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/090208dnmetcrash.32a228ca.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the link to the NBC 5 report&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nbc5i.com/news/17358829/detail.html?rss=dfw&amp;amp;psp=news"&gt;http://www.nbc5i.com/news/17358829/detail.html?rss=dfw&amp;amp;psp=news&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4124221880647670086?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4124221880647670086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4124221880647670086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4124221880647670086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4124221880647670086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/09/please-pray.html' title='Please Pray...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7991317762695382463</id><published>2008-08-31T13:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T13:04:03.829-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I just copied and pasted this from the other blog...</title><content type='html'>Since I last posted, I've had 2 "shot days," almost two weeks of information overload, and two days of lecture on the Persecuted Church. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shot days were weird, because normally in the afternoons when everyone is free, there are children on the playground and people wandering around. Not on shot day. Everyone is told to stay in their quad until it's time to make the walk of doom. No one knows how many or what shots they'll be getting that day. I've been lucky and had to only get one shot so far. I did get the TB skin test, but that's not really a shot...it's just a bubble on my arm. Most people had to get Typhoid shots, too, but since I had a reaction to the Typhoid shot when I was little, I scored and got the oral Typhoid preventative. This consists of 4 pills taken every other day on an empty stomach with a full glass of water an hour before eating. So basically a pre-breakfast appetizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had several sessions on Church Planting Movements (CPM) and what they look like in different parts of the world. This information is interesting, but a lot of it is hard to process and put in a mold of how it will fit in Romania, or anywhere in Central and Eastern Europe for that matter. We've also had some sessions on how to attempt to start a CPM, and that too is difficult to implement with the cultural and religious implications of where I'm going. I know though, that God is in control and makes a way for His Word to spread to all corners of the world. We get that promise from Revelation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the Persecuted Church. Wow. These sessions were by far my absolute favorite so far. The speaker was very dynamic. I won't say anything about the nature of the speaker's job, but it seems like an amazing job that takes very special people to do. I'm sure it's scary at times, too. I really loved listening to these sessions as they were very informative. It made me thankful for the freedom I have to be a Christian and to share my faith and to relate with whoever I want. It also helped me to understand a little bit of what some of the people I may be working with may have gone through during the time of Communism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, with all that said, I'm thankful for the last couple of weeks, and I can't wait for what else the Lord has to teach me. Thanks for keeping up with me. Love you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7991317762695382463?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7991317762695382463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7991317762695382463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7991317762695382463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7991317762695382463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-just-copied-and-pasted-this-from.html' title='I just copied and pasted this from the other blog...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5662643409248386512</id><published>2008-08-08T21:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T22:02:50.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Like clay in the hand of the potter...</title><content type='html'>...so are you in my hand..." Jeremiah 18:6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had a special time of personal retreat.  This was 3 hours dedicated to spending time with the Lord.  We followed it up with a time of sharing what the Lord did during that time.  To some He gave much needed rest.  Some spent the time on their faces in worship to Him.  I would like to say my time was as intense as the others, but it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain.  I went to my room and did some of my Bible Study.  Then, I turned on a podcast of Ravi Zacharias talking about Jeremiah 18 and 19 going down to the house of the Potter.  I love listening to Ravi Zacharias... I could listen to him all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the recurring lessons that God teaches me off and on through the years.  He reminded me of the simple fact that I am only clay in His hands...I need to be moldable.  I have had the opportunity to work with clay, and I understand this concept so well because the potter gets frustrated when the clay doesn't do what they want it to.  The potter often has to fill in cracks, or start all over again, making that piece a ball of clay once again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that I can be this clay in His hands...the kind that's moldable, usable, to become the vessel He wants me to be, that He can use, and that when He's finished, He can take me Home as the best vessel I can be in Eternity...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Potter's Hand by Darlene Zschech&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful Lord, Wonderful Saviour&lt;br /&gt;I know for sure, all of my days are held in your hands, crafted&lt;br /&gt;into your perfect plan&lt;br /&gt;You gently call me into your presence guiding me by Your Holy Spirit&lt;br /&gt;Teach me dear Lord to live all of my life through Your eyes&lt;br /&gt;I'm captured by Your holy calling&lt;br /&gt;Set me apart, I know you're drawing me to yourself&lt;br /&gt;Lead me Lord I pray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;Take me, Mold me, use me, fill me&lt;br /&gt;I give my life to the Potter's hand&lt;br /&gt;Call me, guide me, lead me, walk beside me&lt;br /&gt;I give my life to the Potter's hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gently call me into your presence guiding me by your Holy Spirit&lt;br /&gt;Teach me dear Lord to live all of my life through your eyes&lt;br /&gt;I'm captured by your Holy calling&lt;br /&gt;set me apart, I know your drawing me to yourself&lt;br /&gt;lead me Lord I pray&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5662643409248386512?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5662643409248386512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5662643409248386512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5662643409248386512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5662643409248386512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/08/like-clay-in-hand-of-potter.html' title='&quot;Like clay in the hand of the potter...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7546315626287964168</id><published>2008-08-07T19:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T19:49:56.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I found a walking buddy!!</title><content type='html'>Friends, one of my concerns heading to orientation has been the requirements about fitness that they have here.  Though I played soccer off and on through the years until the end of my Sophomore year in high-school, I am not the most athletic person in the world.  In fact, by playing soccer off and on I mean I was the official bench-warmer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, since then I have not really kept a habit of exercising on a regular basis, and this is bad.  Very bad.  I have worked out in the fitness center at DBU off and on through the college years, but never consistently or habitually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, there is a requirement to have 4 hours minimum of aerobic activity each week.  For some people that's not a problem...For me it is.  So all week I had been thinking in my mind that one of these evenings I would start walking.  They told us the other day that if we walk from some flag poles to the gate and back it is two miles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening at the dinner table, I was talking to a sweet girl that is in my small group and in the same living area as me.  She mentioned that she was going to walk and I told her I would join her.  Y'all...God could not have been more Faithful.  We both confessed to each other that neither of us had exercised habitually in the last few years and just talked about it.  It really was a blessing because we were able to walk at the same pace and didn't run out of things to talk about.  For two whole miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took us almost an hour to do the whole thing and get back to our quad, and as we walked back we looked at the lightning in the distance hoping that we would get back before the storm hits.  We made it back and it's still not raining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please join me in thanking God for putting someone that walks at my pace to walk with.  We made a goal to walk every day at least the two miles.  We might even try running eventually, but we're going to try to work up past the two miles before that and get up our endurance.  Please continue to pray that we would be diligent in attaining this goal of walking the two miles consistently every day and that the Lord would give us the discipline to build up the endurance to handle more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7546315626287964168?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7546315626287964168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7546315626287964168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7546315626287964168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7546315626287964168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-found-walking-buddy.html' title='I found a walking buddy!!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4368369533679430017</id><published>2008-08-05T21:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T22:02:42.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Week in a Rundown...</title><content type='html'>I visited my aunt and uncle in Jacksonville, NC last week.  They took me to the beach...you heard all about that, I got fried.  I'm still peeling and blistered.  Big mistake.  Note to self...WEAR SUNSCREEN!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday evening and Saturday morning my aunt, cousin and I attended the Beth Moore simulcast that was broadcasting at their church.  It really was a Word that I needed leading into the next couple of months...no years...of my life.  Amanda, please tell your mom thanks :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday my aunt and cousin drove me up to Virginia where I am now for 2 months of orientation before I head out on my great adventure that will take place in Romania.  God is certainly Faithful and I have already started forming friendships with some of the other girls here at orientation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't have anything scheduled for yesterday or today besides meals.  I did have to fill out a form for the board, but that's it.  It took like 2 seconds. Maybe a little more.  So some of the girls and I went to Wal-Mart to pick up a few things like snacks and kleenex and stuff.  Then we went to the super nice awesome mall across the street from WM and ate lunch and browsed.  I originally was going to eat at Chick-Fil-A (have you tried their new sauce?? It is delish, my friends...it beats all previous sauces put together. No joke...)...but then I saw Panda Express and decided to go for a Panda Bowl of fried rice and orange chicken.  Amazing. I gave up Chick-Fil-A and their new sauce for Panda.  It was totally worth it.  I even had leftovers and brought them back with me. Score.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...I'll go now.  Tomorrow's the big day.  The one where we have to start going to meetings and stuff.  Please pray for that...it's all a little overwhelming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4368369533679430017?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4368369533679430017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4368369533679430017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4368369533679430017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4368369533679430017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/08/week-in-rundown.html' title='The Week in a Rundown...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-586636507925021703</id><published>2008-07-31T20:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T21:02:16.544-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Should Have Worn Sunscreen...</title><content type='html'>...But I didn't, so now I'm a lobster.  My legs and chest are super sunburned.  And they hurt.  Back up.  Ok, I'm in NC visiting my aunt and uncle, and they live near the beach....and they took me.  It was beautiful.  I love the beach. I grew up going to the beach.  It was a retreat for my family, a place where we could go to relax and have a good time.  A place where we found rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beach to me is amazing because it is one of the things in nature that God has given us to reflect His majesty.  It represents the end of a continent...how God truly separated water from land when He created the Earth.  It is a gem He has given us to enjoy and take care of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is there the huge ocean and all the sand on the shore...but I have never seen the stars more clearly and beautifully than when I am at the beach...except at this one place in Guatemala I went with my class in high school....another story completely.  So at the beach I always contemplate the beauty of God's creation and watching the stars go by and hearing the ocean makes me wonder a lot of things.  But I will leave those for a later post...if at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I'm really sunburned and it hurts.  And no I don't want skin cancer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-586636507925021703?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/586636507925021703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=586636507925021703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/586636507925021703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/586636507925021703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-should-have-worn-sunscreen.html' title='I Should Have Worn Sunscreen...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3490383026291447686</id><published>2008-07-24T10:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:11:38.375-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Packing up my life...</title><content type='html'>...yet again.  I feel like I've spent almost one fourth of my life packing it up in boxes and suitcases to be moved to another country.  This time it's different, though.  This time I'm doing it all on my own, and I'm not moving with my family.  This time I decided (well God decided) to make the move and I can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change and transition are a big deal, and I feel as though I'm going through it already.  I think the transition process starts when one makes the decision to transition and announces it to those around them...and the transition process not only happens to the person in transition, but also to those closest to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So during this time of transition, I know that not only is this time for me, but also for my roommates (who are in transition themselves).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know what I'm trying to say here, just that I'm really feeling the pressure these days.  I have to turn in my key to the DBU apartments tomorrow and I think that will be sad.  That apartment has been my home for 3 years, my roommates have been my sisters, and I just don't see how we are all doing this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what's coming is huge...and it's amazing and I can't wait for it.  I can't wait to experience a culture I've never experienced before.  I can't wait to learn a language I've hardly heard spoken.  I can't wait to see with my own eyes places most people only hear about in movies and on the internet.  I'm so excited about what God is going to teach me in the next season of my life.  I know sometimes it will be hard.  I'll miss my family terribly, but the Lord will be my family and my peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3490383026291447686?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3490383026291447686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3490383026291447686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3490383026291447686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3490383026291447686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/packing-up-my-life.html' title='Packing up my life...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1310483422487677728</id><published>2008-07-14T20:57:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T21:25:07.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of the Earth and then a Little Farther</title><content type='html'>This weekend I decided to go visit with a family that my parents have worked with for about 15 years. They live in the city that we lived in part time while we also lived in the village. I went with them to the village they have served in, which is not far from our village. Hence the title of this post..."the end of the earth and then a little farther" is how those of us who have been out there describe how you get there. I hope that makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road to get to these parts of Guatemala used to be dirt. Now they are paved. But the people are still the same. Significant differences are that there are more concrete houses on this road than there used to be. It used to all be adobe houses...sparsely spaced some with kilometers in between. Now there are cement houses every few hundred meters. This is the result of family members going to the States and sending back money for their homes to be built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will confess, I almost cried on this road this weekend just wondering how the little girl that grew up in that part of the world became the young lady I am today headed to somewhere completely different. I'm thankful for that piece of history in my life simply because it is so unique. I really am in awe of the childhood I had...but thankful for where the Lord has brought me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few pictures...check them out for yourself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwITL2EJEI/AAAAAAAABUc/FM9QI8Vdu2c/s1600-h/IMG_1422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwITL2EJEI/AAAAAAAABUc/FM9QI8Vdu2c/s400/IMG_1422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223058793533023298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Western Guatemala Country Side....a.k.a. the End of the Earth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwI29LE0SI/AAAAAAAABUk/57NYGz_BHIk/s1600-h/IMG_1439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwI29LE0SI/AAAAAAAABUk/57NYGz_BHIk/s400/IMG_1439.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223059408069906722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...And then some.  The sign pointing to the turnoff to "my" village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwJlYps-SI/AAAAAAAABUs/-VnoIlrwiHs/s1600-h/IMG_1416.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwJlYps-SI/AAAAAAAABUs/-VnoIlrwiHs/s400/IMG_1416.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223060205720107298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tajumulco Volcano...my village is in the valley on the skirts of this volcano down the right side of it.  The top of this volcano is also the highest point in Central America.  One of my dreams is to climb it.  Maybe one day I will climb "my" mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's all for now.  Maybe later I'll post a little bit about my Sunday morning experience at a Guatemalan Country Quinceañera party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1310483422487677728?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1310483422487677728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1310483422487677728' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1310483422487677728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1310483422487677728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/end-of-earth-and-then-little-farther.html' title='The End of the Earth and then a Little Farther'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SHwITL2EJEI/AAAAAAAABUc/FM9QI8Vdu2c/s72-c/IMG_1422.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-6657123348157112516</id><published>2008-07-08T18:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T19:10:09.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I Went to the Dentist...</title><content type='html'>...but I went to the eye doctor too.  Which was good because I needed to get an eye exam anyway since it had been four years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the Dentist.  Yes, the Dentist.  He cleaned my teeth and it didn't hurt.  This is really the best dentist of my life.  I've been going to him for longer than any other dentist I've ever gone to.  And I have to come to Guatemala to go to the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two years ago this dentist took out my wisdom teeth.  In his dental chair.  With only anesthesia and laughing gas.  I heard every crack and felt every ounce of pressure he put on those wisdom teeth.  And I wouldn't have had it any other way.  Plus that the whole cost of my trip down here AND the wisdom teeth extraction was probably less than my co-pay would have been had I had it done in the States.  Oh, and any medical stuff we get done on the field is reimbursed 100%. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this dentist is highly educated in Guatemla, the US, and Europe.  Oh and when he took out my wisdom teeth they had just finished making Apocalypto.  And he told me all about how he was good friends with Mel Gibson and the guy that produced Apocalypto.  That's how awesome this dentist is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I mostly like him because he's way better than the dentist we used to go to when I was little.  She was a "pediatric dentist" but she was MEAN.  Yeah, I ate a lot of candy so I had a lot of cavities.  A lot.  Like one time I had 8 cavities at the same time.  That's how much candy I ate.  Don't blame my parents, it's not their fault.  I probably ate twice as much candy as they thought I did.  So this mean old lady dentist never gave me enough anesthesia.  So I cried and screamed because it hurt when she had to deal with my cavities.  In turn, she told me how bad I was.  I probably bit her a few times.  I hope I did.  She was mean because she never gave me enough anesthesia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and then, she would ask me if I wanted strawberry flouride or orange flouride.  I always asked for strawberry, but she gave me orange EVERY SINGLE TIME.  I told you she was mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think some of the cavities were her fault because no matter how bad she told me I was while she was working on my teeth, or how much nasty orange flouride she gave me, I always managed to get a sucker at the end of it all.  So it's all her fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so now my dentist is super nice.  Although, I did figure out later after going to the mean old lady dentist when I was little, that I am extra sensitive to the drilling so every dentist always has to give me twice as much anesthesia because the normal amount doesn't work.  But it was still the mean old lady dentist's fault.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-6657123348157112516?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/6657123348157112516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=6657123348157112516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6657123348157112516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6657123348157112516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/today-i-went-to-dentist.html' title='Today I Went to the Dentist...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-6770126408259184149</id><published>2008-07-05T18:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T19:09:23.342-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Bit of Nothing</title><content type='html'>So I caught something. And now I'm taking antibiotics.  A sinus infection or something.  Which I guess I didn't really catch if that's what it is since those usually develop out of some kind of allergy.  I never thought I'd say I had an allergy in Guatemala.  Oh well. Such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and I have done some walking around town on errands and browsing in cute stores and at the market.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the other day we went into the real market, not the tourist market, and the power was out all over town.  Including in the market.  The real market in Antigua is like a maze of hallways with shops.  Some of the hallways are naturally litten (is that a word?) and some are litten by electricity.  Well when the power is out, it makes for some dark hallways.  So we walked around the market when the power was out in dark hallways.  It was mostly fun, but a little bit creepy.  Everyone had candles lit or something so it was't too bad, but there were some super dark spots.  That was quite an adventure, to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guatemala is well into rainy season, so the rains come every afternoon.  It's nice that the house is not insulated and we actually can hear the rain because that makes for some relaxing natural noise.  Like one of those noisemakers, except its real.  We don't have a tin roof, though, which is fine because then it would be really loud, but the clay tile on the roof makes some nice sound bytes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our dog, Clifford, who is a miniature daschund that is brown, has not been feeling well lately.  He'll 11 years old which is 77 in doggy years.  He has arthritis, and it's worse in the rainy season.  So as much as I like the rain, it would be nice if my dog felt better, but he doesn't.  Oh well.  So he has arthritis really bad and pretty much just lays around all day now.  He used to be so spunky and wouldn't stop chasing the tennis ball for anything.  It was his job.  I guess you could say he's retired now.  I think my parents are going to have to put him down soon.  Sad, but we don't want him to be in pain forever.  It's ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm going to enjoy my hot chocolate and the rain on the roof a little bit.  Thanks for stopping by!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-6770126408259184149?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/6770126408259184149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=6770126408259184149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6770126408259184149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6770126408259184149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/little-bit-of-nothing.html' title='A Little Bit of Nothing'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1103373545190909801</id><published>2008-07-02T21:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T21:19:53.592-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog!</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to let everyone know that Ill still be posting more general stuff here at antiguaang.blogspot.com, but for my prayer updates as I head to Romania and posts related to my time there, I will be posting at &lt;a href="http://2yearsinromania.blogspot.com"&gt;2yearsinromania.blogspot.com.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you subscribe to this blog, dont unsubscribe, just add the other one too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1103373545190909801?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1103373545190909801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1103373545190909801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1103373545190909801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1103373545190909801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-blog.html' title='New Blog!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7763307532881551836</id><published>2008-07-01T11:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T15:54:09.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Free!</title><content type='html'>I've been having a great time at home.  It was fun last week catching up with my friend, Keeley, who I hadn't seen in over a year.  We still know how to have fun together and try our best to stay out of trouble.  No, really.  The only time we've ever gotten in trouble together is when we made marshmallow cream with our hands and actual marshmallows and got it all over eachother.  We were 20.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this visit has been amazing. I couldn't have asked for better closure to this chapter in my life as well as some past chapters.  An answer to prayer is that my ties to this town are slowly dwindling.  People move on, and just about all I have left here is my parents and somewhat of a painful past.  Part of this realization came to me yesterday.  I was thinking about running into the guy that I dated my senior year in high school and first semester and a half of college in the street the other day.  He's now in Canada getting married this weekend. I pray the Lord's blessings on his marriage.  My point is that where I was nervous about seeing him at all, for fear of what  might make me wish for my past, I should not have been nervous at all.  The Lord took away all feelings for him more than friendship, acquaintance, even...brotherly love.  I was surprised that I was fine after talking to him for five minutes.  So my painful past is gone. I have no desire to return to it.  There was no feeling there apart from what I said before. Praise God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My freshman year, I did Breaking Free with &lt;a href="http://babybangs.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amanda&lt;/a&gt; and some other college girls in our church.  That study, along with clarification from God on His calling on my life is what led me to end the relationship.  But I can't say that I was ever free from it until now.  I can honestly say that now more than three years later, I've finally broken free from that past.  God has been so good to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all this has come to me at a time when people around me, friends, are hurting from broken relationships.  I'm thankful that the Lord has kept me from heartache this whole time, and pray that He continues to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Lord, for being so Good to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7763307532881551836?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7763307532881551836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7763307532881551836' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7763307532881551836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7763307532881551836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-free.html' title='I&apos;m Free!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7850710261981439203</id><published>2008-06-24T09:50:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T10:03:09.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving it!</title><content type='html'>So I'm loving being home...I haven't been in Guatemala in over a year and a half and it's great. One of my favorite things to do is go and sit in the park and people watch. Here you can do that and not be creepy :). My best friend, Keeley, is in town while our parents are in meetings so we have spent 2 afternoons so far drinking coffee in the park watching people.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGEMIUiFxCI/AAAAAAAABRY/1CE6VJpWaa0/s1600-h/IMG_1262.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGEMIUiFxCI/AAAAAAAABRY/1CE6VJpWaa0/s400/IMG_1262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215463180561925154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm loving being home...I haven't been in Guatemala in over a year and a half and it's great. One of my favorite things to do is go and sit in the park and people watch. Here you can do that and not be creepy :). My best friend, Keeley, is in town while our parents are in meetings so we have spent 2 afternoons so far drinking coffee in the park watching people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went to a restaurant called Mono Loco (the Funky Monkey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGELCYFSHFI/AAAAAAAABRI/rBpKMZafKaY/s1600-h/IMG_1251.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGELCYFSHFI/AAAAAAAABRI/rBpKMZafKaY/s400/IMG_1251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215461978923998290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and had their incredible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGELh7CToXI/AAAAAAAABRQ/BOhJKCCX47I/s1600-h/IMG_1258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGELh7CToXI/AAAAAAAABRQ/BOhJKCCX47I/s400/IMG_1258.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215462520882700658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chicken nachos.  Oh. My. Goodness.  They were amazing.  We didn't quite finish them off...it was just a little too much.  But we certainly tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I think we'll do more of the same people watching with coffee in the park, then eat somewhere else...like Pollo Campero or Tacos 3x10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I hope you're all great too!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7850710261981439203?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7850710261981439203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7850710261981439203' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7850710261981439203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7850710261981439203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/06/loving-it.html' title='Loving it!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SGEMIUiFxCI/AAAAAAAABRY/1CE6VJpWaa0/s72-c/IMG_1262.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4812144990951055913</id><published>2008-06-20T23:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T00:02:59.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm packing...</title><content type='html'>I've been packing off and on for the last few weeks.  I got most of my belongings into a storage unit my parents and I rented together, and now just have clothes, shoes, and other random items that I need access to before I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm headed to Guatemala on Sunday and I simply cannot wait.  I haven't been home in a year and a half.  It's about time.  I get to see my best friend and spend some quality time with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a new iPod today.  Actually my first iPod.  I had a Creative Zen mp3 player for a while, and it was ok, but the iPod is amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommate agreed to make a wedding cake for a friend that's getting married tomorrow.  It is going to be beautiful.  I'll take a picture of the finished product and post it when I get the chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great night, everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4812144990951055913?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4812144990951055913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4812144990951055913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4812144990951055913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4812144990951055913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-packing.html' title='I&apos;m packing...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5541230605260320398</id><published>2008-06-14T00:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T00:21:00.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Chapter Ends</title><content type='html'>Well folks, I did it.  Tonight officially marked my last shift at Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After working there for more than 3 years (3 years, 1 month and 3 days to be exact), it is quite a relief to know that I no longer have to plan my life around when I have to be at work next.  I don't have to go to bed at 10 at the latest on Sunday night in order to be at work on Monday morning at 4:45, and I don't have to say no to friends who want to go bowling because I have to close on Thursday night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will say that part of the reason I stuck with the job for so long is because I really did truly enjoy it.  For the most part.  I'll call the end of this chapter bittersweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is bitter because there are people who I have made contact with several times a week simply because of my job.  Some of them I worked with, and some of them I served.  Since I'm a people person, I loved seeing my customers' faces almost every day, and that is one thing I will miss.  Knowing snippets of people's lives just because I was one of their neighborhood baristas was awesome.  Making someone's day better just by making and serving them their daily treat was even more fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is sweet because the current working environment at my store is less than ideal at this point in time.  A recent change in management has brought a whole new dynamic to the workplace, and it is not something that I will miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friends, next time you go to Starbucks, hope that the person on the other side of the counter enjoys their job as much as I did, simply because they are seeing your face and making your drink the way you like it.  You might be the highlight of their day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5541230605260320398?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5541230605260320398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5541230605260320398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5541230605260320398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5541230605260320398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/06/another-chapter-ends.html' title='Another Chapter Ends'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-2107475182004032012</id><published>2008-05-25T21:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T21:34:13.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDohDUQU14I/AAAAAAAABOg/z4aX1LZri40/s1600-h/IMG_1720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDohDUQU14I/AAAAAAAABOg/z4aX1LZri40/s400/IMG_1720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204508660240537474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thanks for all your prayers as this semester came to a close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got my confirmation letter from the IMB of having been chosen for the Student Ministry Coordinator job in Romania, and accepted the position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given my notice that June 14 is my last day at Starbucks!!  More to come on that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-2107475182004032012?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/2107475182004032012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=2107475182004032012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2107475182004032012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2107475182004032012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/05/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDohDUQU14I/AAAAAAAABOg/z4aX1LZri40/s72-c/IMG_1720.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7445539675043642077</id><published>2008-05-13T21:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T22:02:57.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Recently</title><content type='html'>So I know I've not been a responsible writer lately, and a lot of that has to do with the end of school.  I finally am done with schoolwork forever, until I decide to go to grad school...if I decide to go to grad school at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically, the last couple of weeks have been filled with catching up on school work that I needed to do, waiting for my final official letter (which came on Friday!!!) and finishing school in order to graduate on FRIDAY!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, I got a job, I finished school, and I'm graduating from College...all in one week.  God has been so Good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah...and I got my first choice, so I'm officially moving to Romania in October.  I can't wait to go to a new place I've never been and experience things I've never experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your prayers through out this whole process...I will continue to update you about what goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll post pictures of grad at some point.  Get ready to see lots of people I love!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7445539675043642077?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7445539675043642077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7445539675043642077' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7445539675043642077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7445539675043642077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/05/recently.html' title='Recently'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3014626099851577071</id><published>2008-05-11T21:43:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T21:29:17.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Day...</title><content type='html'>Here is what I saw a couple of weeks ago in front of the Potter's House on my way to church. I was very saddened by this sight, and since there was lots of traffic yes, I pulled out my camera and took pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDodm0QU11I/AAAAAAAABOI/A44jXRjI3xQ/s1600-h/IMG_1073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDodm0QU11I/AAAAAAAABOI/A44jXRjI3xQ/s400/IMG_1073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204504872079382354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDoeK0QU13I/AAAAAAAABOY/pQTkctdO2Bc/s1600-h/IMG_1075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDoeK0QU13I/AAAAAAAABOY/pQTkctdO2Bc/s400/IMG_1075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204505490554673010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDod4EQU12I/AAAAAAAABOQ/14pg6jGk7Ek/s1600-h/IMG_1074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDod4EQU12I/AAAAAAAABOQ/14pg6jGk7Ek/s400/IMG_1074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204505168432125794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What saddens me the most about these is that there is a child holding a sign that says "God hates you."  I wonder what kind of person he will grow up to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did some research and found out that this was a group from "&lt;a href="http://godhatesfags.com"&gt;Westboro Baptist Church&lt;/a&gt;" in Topeka, Kansas.  These people have gotten a lot of press in the last couple of years because of their beliefs and behavior.  Their website has their picketing schedule and reasons for choosing certain places to picket, including taking Scripture out of context....WAY out of context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They picket churches, soldiers' funerals, and other things that they do not support.  They preach hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not affiliated with any Baptist convention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that the Lord will convict their hearts and that they would find hope in Christ's love for all because of this promise that we have in Scripture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.  There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.  If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise"  Galatians 3:26-29&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please pray for them with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3014626099851577071?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3014626099851577071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3014626099851577071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3014626099851577071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3014626099851577071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/05/sad-day.html' title='Sad Day...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SDodm0QU11I/AAAAAAAABOI/A44jXRjI3xQ/s72-c/IMG_1073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5337655321890038019</id><published>2008-05-08T21:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T21:22:07.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm sorry...</title><content type='html'>Dear Blog,&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for my absence.  I have neglected you.  To be honest, I have not forgotten about you, I just have lacked inspiration...and still do.  I'm sure that once I'm done with the 15 page paper I'm supposed to write and have turned in by 5 tomorrow, I will visit you more often.  Because then I will never have homework ever again.  Until then, please stay put.&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;Your Writer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5337655321890038019?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5337655321890038019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5337655321890038019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5337655321890038019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5337655321890038019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m sorry...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-2427301358919876634</id><published>2008-04-21T22:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T23:02:08.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Romania...Here I Come!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SA1i_ZeUlNI/AAAAAAAABOA/KTmRK78YX7U/s1600-h/romania-map.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SA1i_ZeUlNI/AAAAAAAABOA/KTmRK78YX7U/s400/romania-map.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191914786737394898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bucharest, Romania it is!  Since I began exploring possibilities for overseas service over a year ago, the Lord had Romania on my heart.  All along, this is what has kept me in the process.  At the  beginning, though, when I started searching for assignments through the IMB in Romania, there were none fit for the "single female" status that is the most accurate description of me.  So I placed it in the Lord's hands and decided that if Romania was not where He wanted me to explore, then I would consider other options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the time, I have looked at possibilities in Rome, Hungary, and Sardinia.  Most of these had been taken off the list of possibilities by the time I went to Conference last week.  Sardinia, though was still a viable option.  After speaking with someone who knew a little bit about the work that would take place on Sardinia, I was a little bit discouraged knowing that I would be alone with one other person on the island doing ministry for several months at a time.  It seemed to me that maybe that was not the best option for me, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home and got online to the web site where I looked at job requests, and saw a request for Romania that had not been on there earlier that week when I had looked.  It was like the Lord placed it there just in time for me to know that my options were limited, and that He still had Romania in His plans for me.  This happened literally the week before Conference.  So I went to Conference, spoke with several people, and in the end, put the Romania job request as my #1 choice for service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They still have to go through my file two more times...one on the day of "job match" which is this coming Thursday, and one when the committee votes on hiring us for those jobs on May 6th, which is also the day the official letters are mailed out.  So there still is that little piece of me that knows it's not official till it's over, but I trust the Lord knows what He's doing, and that He has not brought me through all of this for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in about six months, I should be in a whole new place I've never been before, learning a whole new language I've never heard spoken before, but I'm extremely excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-2427301358919876634?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/2427301358919876634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=2427301358919876634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2427301358919876634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2427301358919876634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/romaniahere-i-come.html' title='Romania...Here I Come!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SA1i_ZeUlNI/AAAAAAAABOA/KTmRK78YX7U/s72-c/romania-map.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5114292309026081944</id><published>2008-04-20T17:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T17:46:12.402-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise the Lord!</title><content type='html'>Praise God...conference went really well and the Lord totally came through.  He is So Good and Faithful.  To be fair, I won't blog about my decision until all the super important people in my life have been told in person or on the phone, but I will share eventually.  You can continue to pray, though, for God to continue to work in this journey...the IMB still has to go through my file 2 times before they offer me the position.  I have no doubts everything will work out, but only the Lord knows what He's doing.  Thanks, friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5114292309026081944?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5114292309026081944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5114292309026081944' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5114292309026081944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5114292309026081944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/praise-lord.html' title='Praise the Lord!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-209053872953410301</id><published>2008-04-13T19:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T19:43:45.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Almost Here!</title><content type='html'>So the time has FINALLY come. It's been a long time in the waiting. On Tuesday I fly to Virginia for my Candidate Conference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends, this means so much to me.  This week will determine at least the next two years of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please please please pray for me this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Pray that I would have clarity&lt;br /&gt;2. Pray that my heart would be yielded to God's will and not mine&lt;br /&gt;3. Pray for safety in travel&lt;br /&gt;4. Pray that my flight won't be canceled (with all the cancellations having gone on this week...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, friends. I will update you when I get back sometime next weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-209053872953410301?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/209053872953410301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=209053872953410301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/209053872953410301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/209053872953410301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-almost-here.html' title='It&apos;s Almost Here!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5645531275764395484</id><published>2008-04-13T19:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T19:34:55.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Burt's Bees Blemish Stick...</title><content type='html'>So...a few months ago, &lt;a href="http://ashienichole.blogspot.com"&gt;Ashley&lt;/a&gt; recommend the Burt's Bees Blemish stick on her blog, saying it really worked, and all these amazing things about it.  I totally believe that it worked for her, so since then, I've been looking at all of the Burt's Bees stands in various retailers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I found ONE at the Super Target at 360 &amp;amp; Camp Wisdom in Grand Prairie.  I put it in my basket, paid for it, took it home, removed the tube from the box and placed it in my cosmetics bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After washing my face and doing my night time routine, I opened the Blemish Stick and rolled it onto my blemishes.  It's supposed to have herbal ingredients that help the redness go away and for the oil in the blemish to diffuse to other parts of the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more than ten minutes later, did I feel my throat and the back of my tongue start to swell up.  I made sure I could drink water and eat a cracker (I guess that meant I could go to bed and not worry about dying of suffocation...).  Then, without removing the oils from the Blemish Stick from my blemishes, I went to bed thinking the swelling in my throat would go down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to 8:00a.m this morning.  I slept well, but when I woke up, I woke to find my throat still swollen.  So I went in the bathroom to do my morning routine, which consists of cleaning my face with toner and then proceeding to apply my makeup.  No more than ten minutes later I noticed the swelling inside my throat was going down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird, because I'm not really allergic to many things.  Yes, I have allergies like any normal person to things in the air at different times of year.  But the only other thing besides this  "magical" Blemish Stick that I've ever had a "swollen-throat reaction" to was Salmon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, friends, I am allergic to Salmon.  You can start feeling sorry for me right about now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the Blemish Stick, I still haven't decided what I'm going to do with it.  Obviously I won't use it. Just like I don't eat Salmon.  I would like my money back, yes.  But do they take back cosmetics that have been used?  And I would not want to lie about not having used it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone want a Blemish Stick?  I think I can live without it....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5645531275764395484?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5645531275764395484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5645531275764395484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5645531275764395484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5645531275764395484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/burts-bees-blemish-stick.html' title='Burt&apos;s Bees Blemish Stick...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4899203002063701261</id><published>2008-04-12T12:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T12:13:48.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>update on the friend situation...</title><content type='html'>several of us had a heart-to-heart yesterday and things are much better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4899203002063701261?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4899203002063701261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4899203002063701261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4899203002063701261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4899203002063701261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/update-on-friend-situation.html' title='update on the friend situation...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3193360092338628113</id><published>2008-04-11T00:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:39:11.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It Hurts to be Loyal</title><content type='html'>O.K. so you might be wondering what the title's all about.  For as long as I can remember, I've had friends that I've been painfully loyal to.  And what I mean by loyal is not that I dodn't talk about them behind their backs (I do wish I didn't do that, and I really try not to, but usually it's to express my frustration and never out of malice to hurt them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a problem telling people what I think, either, so usually if I've said something to a friend about another friend, I've said it to that friend, too.  Does that make sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I mean by "loyal" is that in each of my great friendships there have been seasons of silence from them because they don't accept or appreciate something I've said.  See when I say things to people, it's out of genuine love and concern.  I'm not afraid to speak the truth to people.  Even if I know they're not going to be happy with it.  Even if I know they're not going to talk to me for a few weeks or months or years.  So when they're not talking to me, it hurts because I cherish my friends.  It doesn't change my attitude.  In my mind, I'm like, "Ang, you knew this was coming.  That's how they are.  They'll come back around eventually, and might even admit that you were right."  And sometimes they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right now I'm in one of these seasons of silence from one of my precious friends.  I expressed to her my frustration with some other people she spends lots of time with because of certain situations I won't go into.  I have also spent a lot of time with these people, though not as much as she or another fried.  I have spent enough time with them to know that they don't appreciate my truthful personality.  I've spent enough time with them to know that if I say something they don't like, their answer to me is rejection.  I've spent enough time with them to know that investing my time in those relationships is not worth my time because they don't accept me for who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my dear friend has been my dear friend for almost 4 years now.  And has not said more than two sentences to me since Sunday.  I know why, too. But I will remain silent, and when she's ready to start speaking to me again I'll still be here.  And we will move on.  And eventually, it might happen again.  And I'll still be here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3193360092338628113?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3193360092338628113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3193360092338628113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3193360092338628113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3193360092338628113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/it-hurts-to-be-loyal.html' title='It Hurts to be Loyal'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3859782412181967168</id><published>2008-04-09T23:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T23:11:09.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering...</title><content type='html'>When I was in jr. high, I had 2 best friends, Jennifer, and Kara.  We were inseparable. We spent the night at eachother's houses every weekend. We had a club called JAK...it stood for Jenn Angela Kara.  Yes.  We were in jr. high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well four years ago, Kara's mom, Lana, went to have surgery (a hysterectomy), and they discovered some very advanced ovarian cancer inside of her.  Well through the years since then, she went through several rounds of chemo and radiation.  I guess about a year ago, she decided to not do any more chemo, because she knew the cancer would eventually take her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lana went to be with the Lord this morning.  I am so sad that my good friend lost her mom at such a young age.  I am so sad that more people will not know the joy of having known Lana, for she was the one whose house we wanted to be at because she was always so creative and fun.  But I am so honored to have been a person who knew her.  And I am so honored to know that she is with the Lord.  And I am honored to know that one day, I will see her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please join me in praying for her husband, Greg, their daughter Kara (senior at GA Tech), and their son Tim (who is a jr. in high school) this week as they come to terms with the loss of Lana, but as they also have the opportunity to know that she is no longer suffering or in pain, but she is before the throne of Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3859782412181967168?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3859782412181967168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3859782412181967168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3859782412181967168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3859782412181967168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/04/remembering.html' title='Remembering...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-2335079160093883948</id><published>2008-03-27T16:19:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T08:59:22.234-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overdue Post</title><content type='html'>So I know that a post on my trip to Honduras is long overdue, so here we go...slowly but surely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 1-Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0gyAB_MDI/AAAAAAAABNI/6THdXg4AgfQ/s1600-h/IMG_0473.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-wRGgB_MBI/AAAAAAAABM4/MclvOZkWhiM/s1600-h/IMG_0453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-wRGgB_MBI/AAAAAAAABM4/MclvOZkWhiM/s400/IMG_0453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182536074571755538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Sunday, we worshiped at Iglesia Bautista Comunión in Tegucigalpa. It was great to be back in Spanish church, as it is where I feel most at home. I was volunteered to share my testimony, and I feel I talked too fast, but since most people on the team don't speak Spanish, no one really told me so. It's ok though, I won't be back for a few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0gyAB_MDI/AAAAAAAABNI/6THdXg4AgfQ/s1600-h/IMG_0473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0gyAB_MDI/AAAAAAAABNI/6THdXg4AgfQ/s400/IMG_0473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182834789547192370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My sweet roommate, Courtney and I at a lookout overlooking the city.  This was taken after we had an AMAZING typical meal of grilled meat (steak, chicken, sausage), beans, rice, traditional fresh cheese and cream, cooked ripe plantains, and tortillas.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  That's the kind of meal that I live for, my friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0giAB_MCI/AAAAAAAABNA/wfZ8PpbpATQ/s1600-h/IMG_0477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0giAB_MCI/AAAAAAAABNA/wfZ8PpbpATQ/s400/IMG_0477.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182834514669285410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Overlooking the city...beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0iDQB_MEI/AAAAAAAABNQ/3fYO-0Td014/s1600-h/IMG_0496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0iDQB_MEI/AAAAAAAABNQ/3fYO-0Td014/s400/IMG_0496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182836185411563586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cataluña, San José, Honduras.  This is the community we had the privilege to serve on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  They do not have running water, so on Sunday we went with some members of Comunión to distribute gallon bags of water and New Testaments, and to invite them to the activities we were going to be having for the children and women during the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0iswB_MFI/AAAAAAAABNY/jQEX9v2IFn4/s1600-h/IMG_0500.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0iswB_MFI/AAAAAAAABNY/jQEX9v2IFn4/s400/IMG_0500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182836898376134738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sunday evening, we went to a service at a church that we have served in the past in a community called Santa Rosa.  It is up on a hill outside of Tegucigalpa.  The road up there is steep with several switch-back curves.  Our bus broke down when we were almost there, and though we got out and prayed that it would turn back on and work to take us the rest of the way, God decided we were going to walk the 500 feet we lacked to get to the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0jYwB_MGI/AAAAAAAABNg/YmZlRuEruyY/s1600-h/IMG_0503.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-0jYwB_MGI/AAAAAAAABNg/YmZlRuEruyY/s400/IMG_0503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182837654290378850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from Santa Rosa.  And no, I didn't play with the colors on my computer.  God is so good at giving us beauty to reflect on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-2335079160093883948?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/2335079160093883948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=2335079160093883948' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2335079160093883948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2335079160093883948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/03/overdue-post.html' title='Overdue Post'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R-wRGgB_MBI/AAAAAAAABM4/MclvOZkWhiM/s72-c/IMG_0453.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5686925938448475787</id><published>2008-03-07T10:15:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T10:36:15.793-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pray'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Honduras'/><title type='text'>Honduras, Here I Come!!</title><content type='html'>So in 24 hours I will be on an airplane headed to Tegcucigalpa, Honduras with a group from my church for an amazing week.  I simply cannot wait.  This will be my 3rd trip to Honduras with the church, and I must say, that this trip is addicting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has done a lot of amazing things on these trips to Honduras.  The first year I went, He confirmed to me my call to missions, and out of that caused me to break up with the guy I was dating from Guatemala.  It was my first missions experience apart from my parents, and it changed my life completely.  He confirmed to me that He wanted nothing less than what my parents and grandparents had given Him, a live of utter obedience, and consequently ministry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I skipped one year between the first time I went and the second time I went, and on the trip last year (my second trip) I made some precious friends.  I had the opportunity to get close to a lady at my church who has been such an incredible blessing.  My brother also went last year, and it was fun watching him in action in missions, to which he and his wife have also expressed a call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year will likely be my last trip to Honduras with First Baptist Irving for quite a while.  My sweet roommate, Courtney is going for the first time, and I can't wait for her to reap the blessings that going on this trip will bring her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wold beg your prayers for all of us next week.  Here are some specifics:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The community we will be serving is the location of a new church plant that has yet to be established.  Pray that God would use our group of 36 crazy Americans to provide an open door to the gospel, particularly through ministry to children and women. &lt;br /&gt;2.  Pray for the hearts of the people we will come in contact with, that they would be attracted to the Gospel and receive it as we present it.&lt;br /&gt;3.  We will be doing some women's ministry, and the theme I have chosen for that is "The God Who Sees Me".  I will be presenting the stories of Eve, Hagar, and The Samaritan Women.  We will also be presenting the Gospel to these women on one of the days.  Pray that they in their loneliness (many of their husbands are in the States or off with other women) would long to know the God who sees them, and that they would accept His gift of salvation.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Pray for safety as we travel, minister, and tour.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Pray that the motives of each and every person on the team would be pure and God honoring, not for ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so much for your prayers.  I will be sure to post pictures when we return!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5686925938448475787?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5686925938448475787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5686925938448475787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5686925938448475787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5686925938448475787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/03/honduras-here-i-come.html' title='Honduras, Here I Come!!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7237066688190942775</id><published>2008-03-04T00:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T01:09:26.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Tag</title><content type='html'>So I've been tagged...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 years ago...&lt;br /&gt;I was 12, in the last semester of the 6th grade, I lived in Nicaragua.  It was the Spring after Hurricane Mitch hit Central America, so there was a lot of relief work and devastation going on.  I had just played the part of Gladys (I think...) in "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever."  I also was wearing baggy jeans (my brothers jincos when I could get away with it) and huge t-shirts.  I had lots of attention from boys (believe it or not...) and had a huge crush on a particular one named David.  My two best friends, Jennifer and Kara and I were hiding under Jenn's little (8 years old?) sister's bed spying on her play "pet store" with her friend and stuffed animals...  Must I go on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things on my To-do list for today:&lt;br /&gt;Well it's just past midnight, so #1 is obviously sleep, then get up, call 7-ICE hoping that my 8:00 class is canceled due to inclement weather (super wishful thinking), go to my 2 classes if they are not canceled, go shopping for my upcoming trip to Honduras (which I CANNOT wait for!), go to coffee with a friend, go to dinner honoring Amanda, and maybe make it to my class tomorrow night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I would do if I suddenly became a Billionaire...:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Tithe&lt;br /&gt;2.  Save&lt;br /&gt;3.  Travel everywhere I've ever wanted to go, and take my family with me&lt;br /&gt;4.  Buy a good car&lt;br /&gt;5.  Buy clothes&lt;br /&gt;6.  Buy a vacation home at my favorite place from #3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Bad Habits:&lt;br /&gt;1. I bite my nails below the quick and pick at my cuticles.&lt;br /&gt;2. I put one or two loads in the laundry and then leave them in the washer/dryer until my roommates force me to take them out, then I don't fold them but leave them on the chair in my room and use them....until the cycle starts again.&lt;br /&gt;3. Procrastinate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Jobs I have had:&lt;br /&gt;1. Translating for volunteer teams that came to Nicaragua growing up/Selling ice-cream to World Changers in Nicaragua when I was 12&lt;br /&gt;2.  Student worker at the DBU lab school in 2004-2005&lt;br /&gt;3.  Starbucks Barista&lt;br /&gt;4.  CBS 11 intern&lt;br /&gt;5.  Kids Care sub at church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Things People Don't know about me:&lt;br /&gt;1.  I was born in Mississippi&lt;br /&gt;2.  I love reading fiction...when I have time to read for pleasure, that is.&lt;br /&gt;3.  I lived in an adobe house when I was little&lt;br /&gt;4.  The adobe house I lived in was in a Mayan Indian village in the last corner of Guatemala before you fall off the face of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;5.  The beach is my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag everyone who reads this. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7237066688190942775?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7237066688190942775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7237066688190942775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7237066688190942775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7237066688190942775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/03/random-tag.html' title='Random Tag'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3451412814820874661</id><published>2008-02-25T17:11:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T23:55:57.694-06:00</updated><title type='text'>To Some Very Important People</title><content type='html'>Growing up, my parents always emphasized the importance of being obedient to God's direction and His will for our lives.  This was something they mentioned to us every time we made a move.  "We feel like God is leading us in this direction, and we have to obey Him," is what they would say.  Growing up with this mentality on the mission field, I knew that God called missionaries to leave the field or to different countries and they had to obey.  Every time I said goodbye to a family I knew it was because people moved away on the mission field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I moved to the States for college and found a church that I absolutely love, I didn't really think that people moved away.  It wasn't a conscious thought that I had that, "oh, people don't move in the States," it was more of an unconscious concept that existed in my mind.  Towards the end of my Freshman year, I found out that in fact people do move in the States.  One of my good friends moved home.  The next semester, one of my other friends transferred schools.  In my mind, I think I still thought, "oh, well they're in college, a lot of change goes on in that phase of life."  I hadn't really put the concept of moving around in the States and ministry together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, at around this time, that unconscious concept was shattered when a youth minister and his wife who I had grown comfortable serving under resigned their position at what has been my home church for three and a half years now.  I wasn't super close to them, but I enjoyed participating in ministry with them.  What hit me so hard about their change was that they were obeying God and following what was His will in their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was like, "Ok, God, I get it. People in ministry in the States have to obey you, too.  I'm going to have to learn to accept changes here, too.  I'll have to learn to say goodbye to those I love ministering with."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was around the same time when the Lord was pressing me to actively pursue the next phase in my life, which will be to go to the mission field.  I have known that I have the support of my church family here in the States and the staff there.  I have been actively in communication with them updating them on my process, asking for their prayers, and getting them to fill out references for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been preparing myself for the upcoming changes in my life...my college graduation, integrating into the real world outside of textbooks and part time jobs, and eventually (and hopefully) my transition overseas as a Journeyman.  One of the staff couples that I have depended on for prayers and references are Curt and &lt;a href="http://babybangs.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amanda&lt;/a&gt; Jones.  They were called as the college ministers at my church just one or two weeks before the Lord made it clear to me that I should join the church and make it my church home.  They have been a constant at my church.  Amanda led a Bible Study my Freshman year that I was a part of, and has led several  since then.  I have loved every minute I have spent getting to know, playing silent football with, ministering with, and studying God's Word with Curt and Amanda.  Though it has seldom been spoken in words, their presence has given me the security of knowing that if I missed a significant number of weeks at church that someone would be wondering about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just say that Curt Jones is one of the most gifted speakers I have ever heard in my life.  He is incredible.  I've always known that he would eventually probably stop being a college minister and start being a full time speaker, but selfishly I thought and hoped it would not be until after I was gone.  But the Lord has opened doors for Curt and Amanda sooner than I expected and called them away from the college ministry at my church just two months shy of my college graduation.  This again has been one of those "people-in-ministry-in-the-States-have-to-be-obedient-to-God-too" lessons for me.  Needless to say, since I found out on Wednesday, this week has been an emotional roller coaster.  I have complete confidence that the Jones family is doing what they need to do in order to be obedient to God's guidance, I just wish it could be done in Irving and not Houston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curt, Amanda, and Jackson:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I thank my God every time I remember you.&lt;span class="VerseNum"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, &lt;span class="VerseNum"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:3-6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to see where the Lord takes you and what He does with you.  Know that I will be praying for you every single step of the way, and I will always love to hear from you.  Amanda told me the other day that y'all feel like God gave you a little sister when He brought us all to First Irving.  I could not have asked for a better additional brother and sister figure to me.  As I said before, y'all have given me a sense of security, and demonstrated to me with and without words that you care about my life.  I have loved every minute of ministry I have shared with y'all, whether it's in the basement of the gym at church or on a dusty street in Honduras, and I can't wait for more of it in the future, near and distant.  Y'all have touched my life more than you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love y'all more than I know how to express.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="VerseNum"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3451412814820874661?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3451412814820874661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3451412814820874661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3451412814820874661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3451412814820874661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-some-very-important-people.html' title='To Some Very Important People'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-6692843905340189895</id><published>2008-02-21T15:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T15:51:31.144-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Miss Angela J Stamps:...</title><content type='html'>I got the letter today inviting me to Conference in April!! At least now I know they want to interview me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just tell you how impatient I have been just waiting for this silly invitation? I've known it wouldn't come soon enough, but I didn't expect it to come before the 27th.  I'm so excited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please pray that I will continue to seek God's guidance on this next journey in my life and that He will make clear where He wants me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-6692843905340189895?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/6692843905340189895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=6692843905340189895' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6692843905340189895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6692843905340189895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/02/dear-miss-angela-j-stamps.html' title='Dear Miss Angela J Stamps:...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7430508482124730451</id><published>2008-02-16T00:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T01:09:53.254-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Posts In One...</title><content type='html'>1.  Going with the theme of this week, as it was Valentine's Day on Thursday, I must say what was on my mind the whole time.  It might sound cheezy and silly, but it makes my heart really tender toward Jesus.  All week, the Lord has been reminding me that Jesus is the ultimate Valentine, the most passionate Romantic, the Sweetest Lover.  Just the fact that God the Son Himself, came to Earth in full human flesh, preached His Gospel, performed miracles, and then suffered and died on the Cross all because he loves us.  Then the ultimate act of love, I believe, is the fact that Jesus did not only die on the Cross for us, but He then rose from the dead...showing us that His power and His love is greater than death.  Wow.  This fact causes me to want to do nothing but be romanced by the Ultimate Romantic, Himself.  Christ, who waits now for His bride...preparing a place for her.  He beckons us to Him daily, and as Christians sometimes we don't respond, but we should. I so desire to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I'm still waiting on the IMB...Jesus give me patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.   My Valentine's Day consisted of the following:  sleeping until about 9:30, waiting for all of my roomies to leave so that I could get up and hide their surprises all around our apartment, wait for them to find their surprises, eating lunch, hanging around my apartment, going to Wal Mart, then going to Whataburger with two of my roomies and two of the guy friends we have.  Originally, we had planned on going to the drive-in theater in Ennis, but decided not to when everyone's schedule was being crazy.  So we decided to go eat dinner and then we were going to go watch a movie.  While we were eating dinner, my roommates and I decided we wanted to have a girls' night and watch movies without the boys.  Let me tell you, we got very creative.  Long story short, there are sheets hanging from the ceiling fan in our living room making a tent, the couch bed is out, we now have a fondue pot, we have 3 red box movies in our apartment, and we all probably gained about 500 lbs.  It was probably one of the most enjoyable roomie nights we have ever had just because we were so creative and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I would not have wanted to spend my Valentine's night any other way.  It was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I had an epiphany this week.  My roommates and I have hit it off really well with an apartment of guys that lives off campus but they all go to DBU, as well.  3 of them are also MKs, and so we all get along really well.  We have gotten really close, and have sort of unspoken understandings that there will be mingling of the apartments several nights a week.  Dinner and a movie, at least.  Well, through a series of circumstances, I have come to realize that many hours have been wasted in these evenings.  Something was said that offended me and should not have been said, and it made me really down on myself.  It would have hurt anyone.  Well the realization I've had is that last semester and this semester countless hours have been spent with these guys, yes they're nice, they're Christians, but it has done absolutely nothing positive for me.  I have decided that I won't be spending as much time with them, simply because I'm not getting what I think I should out of these friendships with these guys.  Like I said, something constantly brings me down, makes me feel bad, and want to perform.  I think that as a 22 year old young lady, though I'm not seeking a relationship at this point in my life (though I'm open to one if the Lord brings it my way!), any friendship I have with a male should make me want to seek him out for guidance, advice, and encouragement, as I would do to honor any man in my life, though not in a romantic sense.  I also think that I should be the kind of female friend that inspires a guy to want to treat a female friend like a lady, respect and encourage her, again not in a romantic sense.  Does this make any sense?  So since I'm not getting this from this relationships between my apartment and their apartment, I really need to reconsider and reprioritize my time.  Not become a hermit, just guard myself and my heart from becoming hardened to any friendship with males because of one bad experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7430508482124730451?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7430508482124730451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7430508482124730451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7430508482124730451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7430508482124730451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/02/four-posts-in-one.html' title='Four Posts In One...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1364328716480491452</id><published>2008-02-06T12:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T12:22:37.751-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Union'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tornado'/><title type='text'>Praying for Union</title><content type='html'>In case you haven't heard, which I'm sure you have, Union University in Jackson, TN was hit by a tornado last night that severely devastated and damaged the whole campus.  &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/us/2008/02/06/chetry.tornado.survivor.cnn"&gt;Here's&lt;/a&gt; a link to some video that I've found on CNN.com about it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you will join me in lifting these students up in prayer over the next few weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This situation hits really close to home because of the 2 straight line winds that have damaged some buildings here at DBU since I have been here.  I feel like I have taken for granted exactly how lucky we are here at DBU to not have been hit more fiercely by these winds or by an actual tornado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also hits close because of peers I have there that I have grown up with or known off and on throughout the years.  Being an MK and going to a Baptist University, you find really how small the world is when it comes to these situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart really goes out to those guys and I hope and pray that they can be compensated for the belongings they lost in last night's storm, but more importantly that they will realize how blessed they are that no one was killed or injured too severely, and that they got through this with grace and courage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1364328716480491452?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1364328716480491452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1364328716480491452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1364328716480491452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1364328716480491452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/02/praying-for-union.html' title='Praying for Union'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-908750484157776726</id><published>2008-02-05T19:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T19:30:31.257-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience...</title><content type='html'>So I'm getting antsy waiting for the IMB to decide if they even want to interview me or not.  I could seriously go berzerk.  But I know I must wait.  But I don't want to wait.  But I have to.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been exploring (I accidentally just typed explorgin...haha)  on Google Earth the places I might wind up and it's amazing.  I can't wait.  Somewhere in Europe for sure...Italy perhaps (my top two choices on the requests are located in Italy).  Only God knows where He will send me....but I know that He gives me desires with the intention of fulfilling them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to graduate and get on with my life, but the truth is, I will sure miss my roommates...all 4 of them, and my friends dearly when I go.  God is good though, and faithful, and the best ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-908750484157776726?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/908750484157776726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=908750484157776726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/908750484157776726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/908750484157776726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/02/patience.html' title='Patience...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7150793130366418067</id><published>2008-02-03T22:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T22:07:08.264-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick...</title><content type='html'>...So this weekend I got sick.  It wasn't the worst kind of sick that I've ever been.  No congestion, just achy and not wanting to do anything.  I'm so glad my parents are in the area because I got to call them and they came to my apartment and picked me up so I could go to their house for them to take care of me.  I love for my parents to take care of me when I'm sick.  Even though sometimes I hate asking for things, because I feel like I'm asking for too much, there's just something about my mommy being there to bring me tea and crackers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I know what you're thinking, "Grow up, Ang, you're 22!".  I know I'm 22, but for the last 4 years of my life, my mom has been in another part of the world, and has not been around to take care of me, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I feel better, I'm back at my apartment, but I have to open in the morning.  I don't know why some people just can't make their own coffee at 5:00 in the morning and let everyone else get some sleep.  Oh well...it's off to bed with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7150793130366418067?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7150793130366418067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7150793130366418067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7150793130366418067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7150793130366418067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/02/sick.html' title='Sick...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1155297277350689311</id><published>2008-01-30T20:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T20:05:34.831-06:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting...</title><content type='html'>I got word today that I've been given medical clearance for the Jman process, so that means they can now review my file.  I guess now I wait until late February/early March to find out if I get to go to conference in April.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for my patience for waiting and that I will continue to seek God's guidance in this next chapter of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1155297277350689311?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1155297277350689311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1155297277350689311' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1155297277350689311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1155297277350689311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/waiting.html' title='waiting...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1902406353502611304</id><published>2008-01-29T17:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T17:28:30.927-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Working on Sunday</title><content type='html'>Last week, through a series of events, I wound up working on Sunday.  Sunday has been my intentional day off ever since I started working "outside the bubble" of Christianity.  Basically, it's the only day I ask off for any reason besides classes.  Because of this, Sunday has become my favorite day of the week.  My grades do not depend on me being in class, and my paycheck doesn't have to depend on me being at work.  Sundays, I choose what I want to do when I want to do it.  Most Sundays, I choose to go to church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my church almost as much as I love my mission family in Guatemala.  There is just something about being a part of the Body of Christ that makes me know I'm in the right spot.  I love my church because it feels like home.  More than that, I love my church because it is full of people that love eachother, love others, and love God.  It is the only church I have ever been to in the States where I felt welcome the first time I stepped foot in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So missing church for work on Sunday was a very interesting experience.  I never intended to work on a Sunday, but this week I inevitably had to, as I said, because of a special circumstance of events that I won't go into.  It's not pretty.  While I felt like something crucial in my week was missing, it was fun to see our regular customers at Starbucks, seeing who was dressed up like they were going to church, and seeing who dwindled in like it was a Saturday.  I was pleasantly surprised by several, and was glad that they did get to worship with their church body that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have to realize, too, that going to church is not the only way I can fellowship and worship, it's just a form of being obedient.  I'm not trying to minimize the importance of fellowship, because it is SO important, I'm just saying it was not the end of the world for me to have to miss church on Sunday just to work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I missed seeing my church family on Sunday, but learned from the Lord nonetheless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1902406353502611304?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1902406353502611304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1902406353502611304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1902406353502611304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1902406353502611304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/working-on-sunday.html' title='Working on Sunday'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7113494782670473411</id><published>2008-01-26T00:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T01:03:09.902-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning....</title><content type='html'>This week, I'm learning &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt; to not let Satan steal my joy.  I've had to learn this so many times in the past several years, especially in high school and a few times in college.  This has been one of those weeks.  The kind of week where I wish I could tell the people closest to me how I feel, but knowing that if I did it would expose all kinds of "ugly" inside me that I don't want people to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time, in high school, in the discipleship group I was a part of, our leaders gave us wooden blocks and had us write words on them that gave us problems.  All of us wrote things like boys, loneliness, rejection, etc.  They made us carry these bricks around in our backpacks all week long, and then the next week we talked about them to the group and burned them, as a symbol of giving them up to Jesus.  I don't remember exactly what I wrote on my bricks, but I remember one of the girls looking at me and saying, "Ang, you hide so much."  I have remembered that moment so clearly ever since then.  And it didn't make me mad, it just made me reflect on how much I actually do hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this has been another week of "hiding."  I feel like I need to carry around more bricks this week. But I don't want to. I just want to give them to Jesus and not carry them because I know that only He can take care of them.  But I also want to talk about them to people, except doing that would make people know how much more I'm hiding, and I want to keep hiding it.  Not that I want people to think I have it all together, but I also don't want people to feel sorry for me and start doing things differently out of pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this makes sense. If not, I'm sorry.  I know that only Jesus can take care of my bricks, because He is the refining fire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7113494782670473411?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7113494782670473411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7113494782670473411' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7113494782670473411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7113494782670473411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/learning.html' title='Learning....'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1334980726189295173</id><published>2008-01-21T21:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T21:59:13.488-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Finished!</title><content type='html'>Praise the Lord! I finished my applications to the IMB for the Journeyman program.  The autobiography was the hardest thing, because they ask for so much detail, but won't accept more than 10 pages double spaced 10 point font.  That sounds like a lot of space to fill up, but with the detail they want you to cover, and since you're writing about your own life, it is hard not to make it more than 10 pages.  I had to mess with the side margins and make them smaller to make it all fit on 10 pages.  Go me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing I have left to do is to go to the doctor tomorrow and have her write a letter to the travel insurance place telling them that my asthma is not bad enough to keep me from living overseas.  Ha.  I also will be calling in the morning to make sure they received everything I've turned in, as well as the references that are needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think of me, please pray that they have received all my paperwork, that I will get invited to the April interview conference, and that the Lord would continue to show me requests that He could potentially have me fill.  Pray that He would cause me to fall completely in love with the one that he wants me to answer so that there is no doubt in my mind that that's where He wants me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm completely loving this phase of my life, because it's the first time I've ever made a major, life-changing decision completely independently of my parents.  Yes, I have asked them for advice because they are wise people, but I look to them mostly for support, and they have supported me and encouraged me in this process.  I'm looking forward to May 15 when I get to walk, get my diploma, and look forward to what's next in God's plan for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1334980726189295173?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1334980726189295173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1334980726189295173' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1334980726189295173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1334980726189295173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-finished.html' title='I Finished!'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3989381538054139055</id><published>2008-01-19T10:03:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T10:10:44.914-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Random items...</title><content type='html'>So last night at almost 2 am I sent in the final draft of my 10-page long, 10-point font, .5inch margins autobiography to the IMB.  Glad to have that checked off my list.  Now I have two more things to get turned in by Tuesday, and hopefully I will receive an invite to the April conference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night before I finished my draft, I went with some girl friends to see 27 Dresses.  It was a cute movie, funny, but definitely not the best or funniest movie I've ever seen in my life.  I was afraid to see it because I was worried that it would turn out being prophetic of my life, considering that I was in 3 weddings in a row last summer.  But I'm not too worried, because I don't have a sister that will try to steal any guy from me. whew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been loving my last days off school, despite having to work and miss out on my apartment's active social life some, but it's been fun being able to sleep in in the morning sometimes and still have the apartment to myself when I get up because the roomies are still sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to being able to give my 2 weeks notice at Starbucks, but that is not for another six months.  I hope I do not get super lazy as I know the time approaches, an I hope I can make the best of being able to work so I can save save save!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3989381538054139055?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3989381538054139055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3989381538054139055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3989381538054139055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3989381538054139055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/random-items.html' title='Random items...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-2040661884837068409</id><published>2008-01-13T00:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T01:02:17.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>13 years ago...</title><content type='html'>13 years ago today (technically yesterday, since it's past midnight), January 12, 1995, was one of the most defining days in the life of my family.  We were living in Xela, Guatemala, I was 9 years old, in the third grade.  We still traveled every so often back to the village we lived in before, but we did not live there permanently anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father had traveled to a town about an hour away from Xela for a pastor's meeting.  It was around 8:30 p.m. and he was driving home from the meeting on a dark, curvy highway.  He came upon a blind curve, and his headlights shone on what looked like a woman wearing a blonde wig trying to flag him down for a ride.  He had decided not to stop for anyone after dark, so he didn't.  But the next thing he saw was a man on the curb raising a shotgun.  The next thing he knew, he was yelling, and didn't know where his right arm was.  He contemplated pulling over, but he knew that if he did, he would probably bleed to death.  He was driving a Toyota Land Cruiser, and had it in second gear, which allowed him to continue driving the next five kilometers into the small Mayan indian town that is normally closed up by this time of night.  He pulled into the only gas station in that town, where there was a man pumping gas.  He yelled for help out the window, and the man hopped in the car and shifted gears for my dad, directing him to the basketball court where the Red Cross volunteer basketball team was practicing.  They got my dad into the back seat of the car, and drove him, he says, faster than he ever wants to go again in his life, in to Xela.  We lived on the outskirts of town, right on the highway, so he was able to tell them where we lived so they could pick up my mom and she could guide them to the hospital.  My mom and I had gone to dinner that night with another missionary family, and even though we had gotten home in time for my dad to be home, I had gone to get ice cream and pick up clothes with my friend and her dad, because she was going to spend the night.  My friend's mom stayed with my mom at the house, and while we were gone they pulled up and got my mom.  Once they arrived at the hospital, our family doctor was there helping a Mormon missionary who had dislocated his shoulder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my friend, her dad and I got home, her mom came out of our front door, looked at me and said, "Angela, your dad is going to be ok." and I said, "What happened to him?"  She said, "Your dad has been shot, but he will be ok."  I was nine years old...so I related being shot with dying.  "Is he dead?" I asked.  She repeated, "No, he's going to be ok."  That night, the other family stayed with me at our house, since they did not have a telephone and they needed to call our mission family and find out how to notify my brother, since he was in Guatemala City at a Soccer tournament. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several things about that night that I consider God's way of displaying His love to us in ways that we don't understand.  First off, He knew that my dad was going to get shot, and he placed the right people in the right places at the right time in order to get my dad he help that he needed.  The man at the gas station, the red cross playing basketball, me not at home when they came to get my mom, and our doctor at the hospital when she was supposed to be on a date.  Another thing was that my mother had considered going with him to this meeting, but had decided to stay home with me.  Had my mom been in the car with my dad, the gunshot would have gone right through her head.  My dad was shot with bird shot, and the main impact was right in the crease of his underarm on his back.  If it had gone any higher or lower it would have damaged vital organs, or killed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a month after the incident, our doctor would come to the house and clean out my dad's wound, dead cells, and getting out as many of the lead pellets that she could.  He still has 100 of them in his upper torso, since they were only able to remove about 20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is alive and well today, and lives to tell his story.  I can't tell it the way he can, and I've only really heard him tell it once in depth.  This entry doesn't do his point of view justice.  I can only tell the story from a 9 year old girl's point of view.  But from that same point of view, I can say that I am so thankful that my Daddy is still here, God was not finished with him on January 12, 1995, and he's still not done with him in 2008.  He is my hero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-2040661884837068409?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/2040661884837068409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=2040661884837068409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2040661884837068409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2040661884837068409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/13-years-ago.html' title='13 years ago...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-2184136073643157856</id><published>2008-01-08T18:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T18:36:26.613-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Recently</title><content type='html'>Last week was quite possibly one of the best weeks of my life.  Why? I only worked one shift, had the rest of the week off, and didn't even fly anywhere!  Yes, I did go out of town, to Oklahoma, to visit Jenn, Robert, and Emma again, and it was so fun.  But it was also just super fun to be able to sleep in and not do anything at any certain time because I didn't have to.  It was pure bliss.  Then this week it has been back to the grind, though I feel quite refreshed and new since last week.  I'm back to work, not quite ready for school to start back but oh so ready to get it over with and walk across that stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, Here are my goals for the next two weeks:&lt;br /&gt;-finish my IMB application, because this is what will determine the next chapter in my life&lt;br /&gt;-work on getting ready for my trip to Honduras over Spring Break, which will be an amazing mission trip with my church.  I am taking leadership in doing some women's ministry, so I have to get some craft ideas and stories together for that. I can't wait. I'm so stinkin' excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-2184136073643157856?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/2184136073643157856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=2184136073643157856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2184136073643157856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/2184136073643157856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2008/01/recently.html' title='Recently'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1847686662373642973</id><published>2007-12-31T14:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T15:08:32.404-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The season.</title><content type='html'>It's been close to a month since I last posted.  A lot has happened since then...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The semester ended.&lt;br /&gt;My parents arrived.&lt;br /&gt;My cousin passed away.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas came.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas went.&lt;br /&gt;Just like that.&lt;br /&gt;And now it's New Year's Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I said in previous posts how much I was going to attempt to make the best of this abnormal Christmas season, and enjoy it as much as I could, I can't decide whether I was successful or not.  As much as I love my entire extended family, and as much as I love spending time with them, I prefer to spend time with them when there are no strings attached, no expectations to make everyone happy.  This comes from the experience with my 16-year old baby cousin (not the one that passed, that's a different post all together) at Christmas.  She was not happy with the gift my sweet, Godly, wonderful, amazing grandmother gave her.  The gift was my grandmother's best attempt to get my cousin exactly what she wanted, but a different brand because she couldn't find the one that had been specified.  That ruined my day.  My cousin has never had a strong relationship with my grandmother, and she was completely ungrateful for what she did receive, just a different brand from exactly what she had asked for.  I wanted to slap her upside the head and tell her she was being a brat.  I practically did in not so many words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal this season was to not want to be anywhere but where I was (in the States), with no one but the people I was with (my biological extended family), doing nothing but what I did (celebrating Christmas).  However, by the complicated chain of events, I wasn't successful.  Oh well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe one day, some Christmas, maybe next Christmas, since I will most likely be in another part of the world with people I don't even know exist right now, I'll just spend Christmas reflecting on the birth of Christ, remembering that that's the whole reason we as Christians celebrate, because God came as an infant an infant to the world in human flesh to be crucified for my sins, me the most vile of all sinners.  That will be most important to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful, however, for the opportunity for my family...my mom, dad, brother, and sister-in-law to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning together, that was the best part of the whole time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1847686662373642973?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1847686662373642973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1847686662373642973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1847686662373642973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1847686662373642973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/12/season.html' title='The season.'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-8088238361297597372</id><published>2007-12-04T17:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T17:33:22.027-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Music that Makes Me Want to Move My Feet and Swing My Hips Latin Style</title><content type='html'>This afternoon on my way to class, I decided to plug in my earphones and listen to music on my third trek up the hill of the day.  Yes...count them, one. two. three.  So I went to play some good ol music that makes me have to concentrate real hard to not start moving my feet and swingin my hips latin style.  Carlos Vives music makes me happy.  He's this amazing Colombian musician that just has some awesome beats in his stuff.  You are greatly missing out if you have never experienced the joy of Carlos Vives music ringing out in your ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know, my skin's as white as I'll get out, but somewhere deep down inside me there's some semblance of a Latin-loving heart that just automatically wants to turn wherever I am standing into a Salsa dancing floor every time a latin beat comes on.  I wonder if it has to do with where I grew up?  I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salsa...I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-8088238361297597372?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/8088238361297597372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=8088238361297597372' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8088238361297597372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8088238361297597372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/12/music-that-makes-me-want-to-move-my.html' title='Music that Makes Me Want to Move My Feet and Swing My Hips Latin Style'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1355277563322133691</id><published>2007-11-30T15:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T16:06:46.938-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious Emma</title><content type='html'>Tuesday morning, at sometime between 7:40 and 7:50 in the morning, precious little Emma Ruth Buxton came into the world as the daughter of one of my best friends.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R1CITKof1LI/AAAAAAAAASE/QLDBKQhnQrg/s1600-R/DSCF2406.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R1CITKof1LI/AAAAAAAAASE/7_lWKaTsk1Y/s320/DSCF2406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138757037682840754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She weighed in at 5lbs 15 oz and is 18 in. long.  Isn't she beautiful????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the opportunity to go visit all day Wednesday, and spent several hours with this beautiful child.  She slept most of the day, of course, but I already love her so much.  And she's not even my daughter.  I can only imagine how much Jenn and Robert love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R1CI6aof1MI/AAAAAAAAASM/hwghlyxn1no/s1600-R/DSCF2421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R1CI6aof1MI/AAAAAAAAASM/PFXielnsVS0/s320/DSCF2421.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138757711992706242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My prayer for Emma is that she will one day realize how much Jesus loves her and realize her need for Him to be a part of her life.  That she will come to a saving faith in Him and love and obey Him in her life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1355277563322133691?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1355277563322133691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1355277563322133691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1355277563322133691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1355277563322133691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/precious-emma.html' title='Precious Emma'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/R1CITKof1LI/AAAAAAAAASE/7_lWKaTsk1Y/s72-c/DSCF2406.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-6559855802970137247</id><published>2007-11-22T20:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T21:01:03.626-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving and generational blessings</title><content type='html'>Psalm 100&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.&lt;br /&gt;2Worship the LORD with gladness;&lt;br /&gt;come before him with joyful songs.&lt;br /&gt;3Know that the LORD is God.&lt;br /&gt;It is he who made us, and we are his;&lt;br /&gt;we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4Enter his gates with thanksgiving&lt;br /&gt;and his courts with praise;&lt;br /&gt;give thanks to him and praise his name.&lt;br /&gt;5For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;&lt;br /&gt;his faithfulness continues through all generations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is so good.  I've been thinking a lot recently on my family history.  Both of my sets of grandparents were missionaries for many years in South and Central America.  My parents are missionaries, and my brother and his wife will eventually probably go to the mission field, as well as myself.  These are three generations of missionaries in my family history.  I was talking to my grandmother the other day about my brother and myself and my cousins, and she said the thing she's most thankful for in all of her grandchildren that we all love the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shared with her tonight before I left to come back to DBU that I believe firmly in the biblical concept of generational curses and blessings, and that I believe it's a blessing that at least three generations in my family have been called to the mission field.  She told me that this generational blessing goes back to her great grandfather, who prayed that all of his offspring would be used of God.  Wow! What a prayer, and God is so good and faithful to answer that.  I only pray that God may find me worthy to be used of Him as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also pray that my future children will be used by God, and that this blessing does not stop with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-6559855802970137247?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/6559855802970137247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=6559855802970137247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6559855802970137247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/6559855802970137247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving-and-generational-blessings.html' title='Thanksgiving and generational blessings'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-8771028963613459591</id><published>2007-11-19T22:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T22:50:46.171-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Place to Call My Own</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I had a place to call my own...&lt;br /&gt;A place where I wouldn't have to worry about coming home from work in a bad mood and having to pretend I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;A place where I can leave my stuff in the dryer as long as I want without having to take it out or someone take it out for me and completely wrinkle it all.&lt;br /&gt;A place where the kitchen would be clean all the time, and if it were messy it would be my mess and I know I would clean it up.&lt;br /&gt;A place where I could have people over when I wanted them there and kick them out when I felt like being a hermit.&lt;br /&gt;A place where I could unashamedly play my Spanish music loud and not get funny looks from anyone.&lt;br /&gt;A place where I could cook whatever I want and not get funny looks from anyone.&lt;br /&gt;A place where I could fall asleep on the couch and not care if anyone was going to walk in and see me.&lt;br /&gt;A place where more than my bed would be untouched by anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;A place where I could put whatever I wanted on the walls and table, displaying where I came from and who I am.&lt;br /&gt;A place to call my very own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't have a place to call my very own.  I share a place with 4 other precious women, and though sometimes I need a vacation, I wouldn't replace any of them with anyone.  And I wouldn't trade my years with them for years of sheer and utter loneliness.  I wouldn't trade the fun late-night silliness for more sleep.  I wouldn't trade the admonition and advice for no one to talk to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-8771028963613459591?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/8771028963613459591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=8771028963613459591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8771028963613459591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8771028963613459591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/place-to-call-my-own.html' title='A Place to Call My Own'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4645463596734296332</id><published>2007-11-16T22:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T22:20:02.625-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Season</title><content type='html'>My goal for this holiday season is to do my best and appreciate the people I am spending it with for who they are.  I love my family...my mom and dad, brother and sister-in-law, my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  But the people I am used to spending the Christmas season with are in another country.  They are my mission aunts, uncles and cousins, many of whom have watched me grow up since I was a toddler.  I love and treasure the traditions of my mission family, so this year I will learn to love and treasure whatever semblance of traditions my biological family puts together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas in the States, throughout the years that I've been here for them...maybe four or five that I can remember out of my whole life, has always been an array of happenings.  I used to look at it positively as having three Christmases in stead of just one.  This year I need to learn that my family time matters more than just getting three sets of gifts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's interesting, too, how my love language is quality time, yet I don't really look forward to cultivating my relationship with my biological family through spending the little quality time I am able to.  I need to look at my missing out on my mission family Christmas as cultivating relationships and spending quality time with my biological family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4645463596734296332?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4645463596734296332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4645463596734296332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4645463596734296332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4645463596734296332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/holiday-season.html' title='Holiday Season'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-1404754579052444642</id><published>2007-11-13T22:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T22:38:53.712-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Justifying sin.</title><content type='html'>I've been surrounded for a while by a few Christians who seem to think it's ok to justify their sins.  Yes, we're all sinners, I'm in no way perfect.  However, there is something very very very wrong with college students calling each other asking if the other has ever written a paper over something and if they can have it to turn in.  "most CEOs cheated to get where they are at..." is their excuse.  I don't want to hear it.  There's also something wrong with someone getting injured and not giving the proper authorities the right information because it's not "pertinent."  Yes, I'm a sucker for telling the truth and the whole truth, and I also prefer to not turn something in at all in stead of turning in someone else's work and calling it my own.  Of course, these things are not sins that physically hurt other people, and are mostly needed to be dealt with by the person who is committing them, but sin is still sin, no matter who it is against.  All sin is committed against God, some is committed against other human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said at first, I'm far from perfect, I have sin that I deal with in my own life, and it's a daily struggle that I have to keep my mind set in the right place in order to take my thoughts captive to the authority of Jesus Christ.  Something my pastor has said, and it's one of my favorite lessons I have learned from him, is that the difference between sin in Believers' lives and sin in the lives of un-believers, is that believers have to make a conscious decision to sin.  I've thought about this concept a lot, because of how true it is.  When I commit sin, I make a conscious choice to do so.  I think knowing this truth helps me to not decide to commit sin, though sometimes my flesh causes me to give in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess all I'm trying to say is that, I don't understand how Christians can get off making excuses for their sinful actions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-1404754579052444642?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/1404754579052444642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=1404754579052444642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1404754579052444642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/1404754579052444642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/justifying-sin.html' title='Justifying sin.'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-8689348018532427186</id><published>2007-11-09T08:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T08:53:11.757-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet treasures from Jesus</title><content type='html'>Often in my quiet times, which unfortunately I don't have consistently...I'm trying to get better..., Jesus drops sweet treasures in that make me think a lot.  Along with reading the Word I have been reading My Utmost for His Highest, something I think every Christian should read.  I finally broke down and bought a copy this past summer and I've loved it.  This morning I was reading the one entitled "How Could Someone So Persecute Jesus!" and on the last paragraph read something that caught my eye.  My friend Oswald writes, "All I do should be based on a perfect oneness with Him, not on a self-willed determination to be godly."  WOAH!!  it kind of hit me not quite as a slap in the face, but not quite as anything else, either.  I wonder often, is all I do based upon a perfect oneness with Him? Or am I out on a self-determined, self-marked path to try and make myself godly??  I think that once I am perfectly one with Him, then is when I will be godly.  I think this is a huge encouragement to those of us who try so hard to be godly but constantly find ourselves short of it.  Is it easier to be one with Him?  Maybe that comes with like-mindedness with Christ.  So much to ponder and strive for.  Think about it....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-8689348018532427186?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/8689348018532427186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=8689348018532427186' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8689348018532427186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8689348018532427186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/sweet-treasures-from-jesus.html' title='Sweet treasures from Jesus'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7661129300813587300</id><published>2007-11-04T21:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T21:17:57.646-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obedience'/><title type='text'>Obeying God</title><content type='html'>I've recently been pondering the different stages that the Lord takes me through in my Spiritual walk.  I think during high school, the Lord's theme for my life was teaching me His faithfulness...how incredibly GOOD he is and faithful, so that I could learn to trust Him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few months, though, maybe years, I don't know, God's theme for my life has been Obeying Him.  He has taught me to obey Him in so many ways, and taught me about obedience.  I guess I started figuring this out when I was working out my call to missions and what God would have me do with that in the next phase of my life, which is rapidly approaching.  I was talking to my dad, and he had been speaking with my best friend's father, who was also trying to work out what God would have her do with the next few months of her life.  Both of us were struggling with decisions that may take us overseas, to countries we've never been to, languages we've never learned. My dad and my friend's dad were sharing their worries with each other about letting their little girls' out into the world that they'd never been in etc.  My dad told me what he told my friend's dad that day, and he said "I guess that's what we get for teaching our children to obey God." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been working this out in my mind, what it means to obey God in all that I do...every day life, every day decisions, and then the big ones.   What I strive to do is OBEY GOD.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7661129300813587300?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7661129300813587300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7661129300813587300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7661129300813587300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7661129300813587300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/11/obeying-god.html' title='Obeying God'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-327554325979343755</id><published>2007-10-30T07:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T07:29:04.560-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hillsong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Darlene Czech'/><title type='text'>Worthy is the Lamb</title><content type='html'>When I was in high school I gained a new appreciation for Worship music.  Several girls in my class introduced me to Darlene Czech at Hillsong.  Consequently, I started buying Hillsong music, and we all started trading cd's, etc.  I must say, this woman is so talented....so so so talented.  The Lord has truly blessed this church with amazing worship leaders and inspiration to write songs that have led millions in worship.  One song that I know many many people know out of Hillsong is Shout to the Lord.  While we barely started singing this song in our churches here in the States about eleven or twelve years ago (from what I can tell...), the copywrite on it is for 1992.  I wonder what songs we will be singing in 10 years that the Lord has put on the hearts of those Down Under this year that will lead us over and over again to the Throne...wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is one of my favorite songs of all time...as sung by Darlene Czech at Hillsong.  You can buy it on iTunes...but here are the lyrics.  It's amazing and beautiful...I can't say enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;    Worthy Is The Lamb lyrics&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thank you for the cross Lord&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the price You paid&lt;br /&gt;Bearing all my sin and shame&lt;br /&gt;In love You came&lt;br /&gt;And gave amazing grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for this love Lord&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for the nail pierced hands&lt;br /&gt;Washed me in Your cleansing flow&lt;br /&gt;Now all I know&lt;br /&gt;Your forgiveness and embrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worthy is the Lamb&lt;br /&gt;Seated on the throne&lt;br /&gt;Crown You now with many crown&lt;br /&gt;You reign victorious&lt;br /&gt;High and lifted up&lt;br /&gt;Jesus Son of God&lt;br /&gt;The Darling of Heaven crucified&lt;br /&gt;Worthy is the Lamb&lt;br /&gt;Worthy is the Lamb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH and I'll try to be better about posting.  I love you all!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-327554325979343755?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/327554325979343755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=327554325979343755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/327554325979343755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/327554325979343755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/10/worthy-is-lamb.html' title='Worthy is the Lamb'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3991674603238510735</id><published>2007-10-10T14:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T14:25:31.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8 random facts...i've been tagged.</title><content type='html'>So i was tagged by my sweet friend Ashley to do this 8 random facts about myself thing...so here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  No one would ever know unless they asked and I told them, that I was born in Mississippi.&lt;br /&gt;2.  I've never lived in the same house for more than three consecutive years of my life...this apartment at DBU is about to reach its expiration date on my ability to live in it. &lt;br /&gt;3.  I've successfully made up and told two cheezy stupid jokes all on my own...and some people think they're funny.  I do, though, tend to laugh at my own jokes, which is sad in and of itself.&lt;br /&gt;4.  I'm the queen of procrastination, therefore when I have to stay up until 4 in the morning writing a paper, I don't drink caffiene (it does nothing for me, except comfort me in the morning when I don't want to be up yet), I drink water....lots and lots of water to keep myself getting up to move around and go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;5.  When I was 19, I hated being 19...it just seemed like a "blah" age to me.&lt;br /&gt;6.  My favorite meal of all time consists of grilled beef-steak (thin), on a thick corn tortilla with guacamole all in one bite.  yum.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Try saying "Iced-quad-venti-six-pump-vanilla-non-fat-upside-down-extra-caramel Caramel Macchiato"  fast five times.  That's my drink.&lt;br /&gt;8.  As much as I love my biological family...grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, my preference is to spend Christmas not in the States with them, but in Guatemala with my mission family, who has been a part of my whole life, has watched me grow up.  This holiday season tradition growing up for me consisted of Thanksgiving in a place called Ixchiguan, (one of those last corners of the world before you fall off the face of the earth places), where 30-40 people, young and old, would cram into a small house to spend the night, in super super cold weather.  Then, the Christmas party would come and there would be a gift-exchange for the kids and a white elephant game for the adults (including returning college MKs), followed immediately by the MK retreat in the hippy town at the lake with no more supervision then absolutely needed.  Later, Christmas would come around, and that was shared with immediate family, and maybe one other family would come over for Christmas dinner.  New years was the grand finale, friends of mine and my brother's would come to our house in Antigua (the place to be at New Years) and we'd go down town, to the strip where thousands of people were, watch the fireworks shows, etc.  Thus, my Christmas season was super festive with fireworks all throughout and not having to be with my biological extended family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3991674603238510735?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3991674603238510735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3991674603238510735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3991674603238510735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3991674603238510735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/10/8-random-factsive-been-tagged.html' title='8 random facts...i&apos;ve been tagged.'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-254643921985936940</id><published>2007-09-13T14:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T14:59:19.595-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Honduras'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mangos'/><title type='text'>Mangos</title><content type='html'>Today, while sitting in class, a random, precious memory entered my mind.  My World Lit 1 professor was talking about the Odyssey, and she said the word "ration."  I'm not quite sure what the context was, but I do know that whenever I hear the word "ration" my mind automatically takes me back in time to when I was an 8-year old visiting my grandparents who were missionaries in Honduras at the time.  This was the summer between my second and third grade, 1994.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honduras was experiencing a terrible drought, so water and electricity were being rationed for several hours a day by the government.  The power and water only came on for a few hours early early in the morning and in the evening, so we would have to fill buckets with water the night before if we wanted to bathe the next morning.  I believe that this was also the summer when my brother and I developed our fascination with entertaining ourselves with candles every time we were around them.  Picking the dripping wax off the sides of the candles, rolling it up in little balls of wax, and yes, we even added kool-aid powder to some wax to make it the color we wanted and to see if it would taste/smell like kool-aid candles.  Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our parents had sent us to stay with our grandparents for three weeks that Summer.  We went to mission meeting with them at a lake in Honduras, which had a Baptist camp grounds.  The place was so humid and disgusting.  The name of the camp was (and still is....) BAGOPE, and acronym in Spanish for "Bautistas Gozando y Pescando" (Baptists Enjoying and Fishing).  Whatever...the missionaries joke that what BAGOPE is really an acronym for "bugs and gnats on people everwhere."  Because if you've never been there, that is really what the whole experience of BAGOPE is.  Because even though there are screens on all the windows and doors you have to have a mosquito net to sleep under.  I went back there several times throughout Jr. high and High School, and I must say it is not one of my favorite places to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was one of the weirdest Summers of my life.  It was the Summer that my parents moved us permanently to Xela, the city we had lived in half of the time when we weren't living in our village....and when my brother and I got back, we were all moved in to our house and out of the village house that we went to  maybe once a month after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was also the Summer when, I guess one night while I was sleeping, I got bit by some sort of "blister bug."  I had a massive blister on the back of my leg for days, and it was painful.  I had to take antibiotics or something to get rid of it.  Weird...don't ever get bit by a blister bug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my point.  One of the best memories I have of this Summer was in Honduras, at my grandparents' house.  On those nights when the power was out, those hot, muggy afternoons in one of the warmest places in Central America, my grandmother would cut Mangos (just to clarify, "mango" is pronounced with a long a, as in ah...NOT with a short a as in a) that had to have been the size of a small watermelon.  The things were massively huge, and the most delicious Mangos I have ever had in my life.    Even to this day, I can't say that I've seen a Mango as big as the ones that my grandmother used to cut for us, nor have I tasted anything as delicious as those Mangos that were the highlight of possibly one of the strangest, most precious Summers of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-254643921985936940?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/254643921985936940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=254643921985936940' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/254643921985936940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/254643921985936940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/09/mangos.html' title='Mangos'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-7164030004619713566</id><published>2007-09-12T21:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T22:12:28.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Books that Changed my Life...</title><content type='html'>My whole life, I have gone through spurts of being super into reading books, and then I can go for months without cracking anything but a textbook.  Recently, I have been in a novel-reading phase.  Not so much as one of my roommates, who sometimes would much rather spend the day with a book than with people, but that's ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from liking novels, I have never really been into the Christian novelists who are known to write easy-romance reads for ladies.  Until recently.  I was in LifeWay a while ago, and picked up a book by Karen Kingsbury, called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Even Now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;  The book caught my attention, and was one of those sweet books that I could (and probably did) lay in bed all day and read huge chunks of at a time.  As soon as I finished the book, I found out there was a sequel to it, and I had to get it.  I bought it and started reading it soon after.  The sequel is called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ever After&lt;/span&gt;.  It too, caught my attention, but more, it caught my heart, and has given me a new, interesting outlook on something in my life that I have never really given much interest to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me explain.  Being my MK-self, I have never really felt very patriotic towards the U.S.  In the book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ever After&lt;/span&gt;, there is a young soldier, the romantic interest of one of the main characters.   I won't ruin the book for anyone who might want to read it (once you have, let's chat!) , but things that happen in the book have made me evaluate my level of loyalty to the country whose passport I hold.  Yes, some silly mistakes have been made, many of which have cost lives, but because of this book, I am reminded that there are men and women giving their lives for my freedom, and for my privilege to have citizenship to this nation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where one of my many MK complexes comes in...when I finally declare appreciation for the United States, I suddenly feel disloyal to every country I have ever called home.  No, I don't have voting rights in any of them, but I do have an opinion about their politics.  No, I probably will never live in either one of those countries again, but as I have said before,  my past will always be a part of who I am and affect who I become in the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I highly recommend these two books, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Even Now &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ever After&lt;/span&gt; by Karen Kingsbury.  And, I went out and bought two more books by her....yes another session will soon begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-7164030004619713566?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/7164030004619713566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=7164030004619713566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7164030004619713566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/7164030004619713566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/09/books-that-changed-my-life.html' title='Books that Changed my Life...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3207078741979694967</id><published>2007-09-10T23:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T23:56:10.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now that I know...</title><content type='html'>Now that I know that at least 2 sweet people are reading this blog (thanks Ashley and Elise!!)  I will post the thoughts I put down on paper when I was in a very pensive mood a couple of weeks ago....not doing homework.  Here goes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure what this feeling is.  No, it's not love, it has nothing to do with anyone but me.  It's an internal yearning, to break out my passport and fly somewhere.  Experience something new.  It's almost surreal, this feeling.  I've had it before, but only when I knew that what I was experiencing at that time of life was only temporary.  Like when we would come to the States for vacation or furlough.  I knew what was happening was only for a little bit, and that soon I would be returning to my normal life in Guatemala or Nicaragua.  It's the same kind of feeling, too, that I would get when I was on the last drive to the airport knowing that that bit of highway was the last I'd see of the US for a while.  This sensation is the one I've gotten the last few years a little while before I've been about to travel to Guatemala for a few weeks in the Summer or at Christmas.  It's like a final taking in of what's around me so that I can remember everything when I want to return to that moment later on when I'm not liking my current situation.  It's almost a feeling of freshness, of knowing that something will soon come to an end, but that something new will soon begin.  I want to know if I'm the only one who has ever felt this way before, or if others get this sensation, too.  Is it because my temporary life which is full of temporary chapters will soon become a life of permanence in one way or another?  With this feeling, my mind has been flooded with small, random memories of moments in my life, but I feel like, for an instant I'm back in that place at that time doing that thing with that person.  Am I not accepting my current circumstances?  Am I wishing for a time gone by?  Am I longing for something I used to have that I will never have again?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that soon this college chapter of my life will close and God will take me to a new place, surrounded by new people, experiencing new things.  I'll never be that barefooted little blond girl running up and down the only road that cars could go on in that village on the side of a mountain in Guatemala.  But that child will always be a part of who I am today, and will have a big impact on who I become.  No one will ever know that sassy seventh-grader that I once was, claiming the attentions of many boys in Nicaragua.  But the memory of those years will always stick out in my mind as the best in my life, for I did well in school and had lots of friends...until I became that "neutral" new girl in the school I wouldn't have wished to finish high-school at.  The pain of the rejection I faced the final three years of my pre-college education will always haunt me and cause me to naturally not want to impose my company on anyone, though people normally enjoy it.  I feel that because of that fear, I may not have lived my college life to the fullest socially, but I'm happy with the good friends I've had so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may e the fear and uncertainty of the future that is what causes this sensation to come over me.  It is definitely uncomfortable knowing that the soonest I might return to Guatemala is next Summer, and that this might just be the first 12 month period of my life when I have not used my passport for one reason or another.  Knowing that the next time i do leave the country it will be for a mission trip to Honduras, and not even home to Guatemala, I'm not so sure how I feel about it.  I mean, I love the Honduras trip, and I love serving and doing missions, but selfishly I want to return home to my house, my room, my bed...my youth.  But my life will never be that way again.  I'll never be back at that carefree place in my life where I can go people-watch in the park for hours on end thinking that moment will never end.  Knowing that I need to savor every moment of everything I enjoy about my life is bittersweet.  Why would I want to do something with the knowledge that this will be the last time I ever truly might experience this precious moment?  Maybe God is trying to teach me something...maybe I should learn to search Scripture in light of the temporality of life.  I know that my life is not my own, that Earth is not my home, but I also know that I have a purpose and that is to know honor Him in all I do, loving Him with every breath, knowing Him in light of all the situations I go through.  Also, to make Him known to those with whom I come in contact.  Living my life and enjoying it as something temporary, knowing that my place is in Heaven should cause me to strive for the enjoyment of what God has given me.  After this, my life should, and will, never be the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3207078741979694967?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3207078741979694967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3207078741979694967' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3207078741979694967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3207078741979694967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/09/now-that-i-know.html' title='Now that I know...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-186592452528818340</id><published>2007-08-21T11:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T11:08:01.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Second to Last Semester...</title><content type='html'>Well I have two semesters to go.  This is the beginning of my second to last semester, and I'm already for it to be over...and we're just getting started.  Oh well.  Honestly, as ready as I am to be done with school, and as much as I'm looking forward to the next chapter in my life, there is still a bit of uncertainty and fear that comes with the future.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can make plans and apply for jobs and desire to leave the country all I want, but ultimately it's up to God where He takes me next.  I'm excited about the prospects and can't wait to see what's in store.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-186592452528818340?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/186592452528818340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=186592452528818340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/186592452528818340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/186592452528818340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/08/second-to-last-semester.html' title='Second to Last Semester...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-8594529212328476305</id><published>2007-08-15T21:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T21:40:29.307-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weddings</title><content type='html'>This Summer I went to five weddings.  Five.  Not only did I go to five weddings, I was in three of the five, each of them one week after the other.  For three weeks in a row.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I had to buy three different dresses and be present at three rehearsals, walk down three aisles in three different churches in three different cities carrying three different flower arrangements, three different sets of circumstances, for three different, precious people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first wedding I was in was that of one of my most precious friends.  Jenn and I met when we were ten years old living in Nicaragua.  We had our rough times, times when one of us would disagree with what the other was doing or disapprove of who the other was hanging out with or dating at the time (usually I was the one disapproving or disagreeing).  During these times, there would be chapters of silence in our friendship, where we wouldn't talk to one another for days, even weeks at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one time, Jenn's mom called me and told me not to call Jenn again until Jenn was ready to talk to me.  I must have been really mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I was 12 then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the years, the past 12 years, Jenn and I have had some rough times.  But we have always held our friendship precious, and each chapter of silence in our friendship always brought about growth and a new appreciation for each other.  To this day, I know I will be friends with Jenn forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such an honor and blessing to be able to stand by her as she vowed to love and cherish Robert for the rest of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO0JG12cHI/AAAAAAAAAGk/zg6f2xezLE0/s1600-h/DSCF2198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO0JG12cHI/AAAAAAAAAGk/zg6f2xezLE0/s320/DSCF2198.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099117271661834354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Jenn!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second wedding I was in was that of my brother and my new sister-in-law.  My brother is one of my role models, a Godly man who has been through a lot and ultimately and obviously loves the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And his new wife is such a precious friend and part of our family.  At first, apparently, it seemed that I was not too fond of her, but I liked her from the very beginning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is so sweet and easy to talk to, fun to hang out with, shop with, and do projects with.  I'm so proud she's my sister-in-law, and I'm proud of my brother for finding her and marrying her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO3Dm12cII/AAAAAAAAAGs/H7lBiFKeALI/s1600-h/DSCF2223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO3Dm12cII/AAAAAAAAAGs/H7lBiFKeALI/s320/DSCF2223.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099120475707437186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third wedding I was in was my sweet roommate Ashley's.  She is one of the Godliest women I know, and has such a kind heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley is the girl that was planning her wedding probably since she was four years old, and even though she had no prospects, would buy things like tiaras and ring-bearers pillows on clearance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her wedding had more than 300 yards of tulle involved in it some way or another, and we spent hours decorating the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wedding was beautiful, all 7 bridesmaids wore matching champagne dresses and gold ballet shoes, which un planned, matched Ashley's white ballet shoes.  We should have been on TV...like TLC's "A Wedding Story"  or something like that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashley was a precious friend, amazing roommate, Godly woman, and I know that now Chris has the wife that God intended for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO4mm12cJI/AAAAAAAAAG0/8Vurp1NsIVQ/s1600-h/DSCF2252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO4mm12cJI/AAAAAAAAAG0/8Vurp1NsIVQ/s200/DSCF2252.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099122176514486418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this to say, that weddings are one of the coolest things to go to, and I was so honored to be a part of all three this summer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-8594529212328476305?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/8594529212328476305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=8594529212328476305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8594529212328476305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/8594529212328476305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/08/weddings.html' title='Weddings'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7ndwWAwiQZI/RsO0JG12cHI/AAAAAAAAAGk/zg6f2xezLE0/s72-c/DSCF2198.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5987339310507938346</id><published>2007-01-29T14:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T14:06:02.532-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>So, I've been praying a lot lately. I just need a lot of patience to keep waiting, and even though it's not fun or easy, I know it will be more than worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5987339310507938346?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5987339310507938346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5987339310507938346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5987339310507938346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5987339310507938346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-614073483184996670</id><published>2007-01-12T20:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T22:14:20.746-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Music'/><title type='text'>Life Soundtrack</title><content type='html'>I know this is a little lame, and that a lot of people have done it, but I am interested to find out how this turns out....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's how it works:&lt;br /&gt;1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)&lt;br /&gt;2. Put it on shuffle&lt;br /&gt;3. Press play&lt;br /&gt;4. For every question, type the song that's playing&lt;br /&gt;5. When you go to a new question, press the next button&lt;br /&gt;6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening Credits:&lt;br /&gt;Some Say-Rascal Flatts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First Day At School:&lt;br /&gt;Fool-Shakira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling In Love:&lt;br /&gt;You'll be in My Heart-Phil Collins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fight Song:&lt;br /&gt;Al Que Me Ciñe-Jesus Adrian Romero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breaking Up:&lt;br /&gt;His Eye is on the Sparrow-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prom:&lt;br /&gt;Prisioneros de la Piel-La Ley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good:&lt;br /&gt;That Particular Time-Alanis Morissette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mental Breakdown:&lt;br /&gt;From My Head to My Heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving:&lt;br /&gt;Manda una Sen-Mana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flashback:&lt;br /&gt;Inside Us All-Creed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting Back Together:&lt;br /&gt;Para tu Amor-Juanes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wedding:&lt;br /&gt;It Is Well With My Soul-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birth of Child:&lt;br /&gt;Deliver Us-Prince of Egypt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final Battle:&lt;br /&gt;A Tu Lado Es Mi Lugar-Jaci Velasquez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death Scene:&lt;br /&gt;Deep Enough to Dream-Chris Rice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funeral Song:&lt;br /&gt;One of Your Own-A Knight's Tale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End Credits:&lt;br /&gt;Made My World-Jaci Velasquez&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-614073483184996670?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/614073483184996670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=614073483184996670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/614073483184996670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/614073483184996670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/life-soundtrack.html' title='Life Soundtrack'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-688789975223735118</id><published>2007-01-08T19:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T20:17:31.314-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Choices</title><content type='html'>Over the course of my life, I have encountered situations where I have been forced to make a choice.  What to eat for breakfast, for instance, or what to wear to school.  Other choices have been more important, such as what college to go to, or what church to join...whether or not to go to church was even a choice I had to make.  All in all, choices come every day, important ones, and not so important ones, and we are all forced to make them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, as I face the decision of what this year will mean for me, all I can do is look back on the past and assess what the last years have meant for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll start with my senior year in high school:  that year was a big year for decisions.  That year, I decided to enter into a relationship with an awesome guy who was in love with Jesus Christ and could not have a conversation without mentioning Him.  I also decided that year what college I was going to attend.  I thought I had it all figured out....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshman year in college meant BIG CHANGE.  I was forced to make the choice of what I was going to make of my life in the United States.  Was I going to wallow in bitterness at my parents making me "give the States a chance"?  Or was I going to make my new life in this new place all that it could be for me?  That year, I discovered that some "stupid gringos" (no offense intended, another post will explain this mindset) were not so stupid after all, and decided that some were even nice and worth investing in friendship with.  I also made the painful choice to break up with that awesome guy I started dating my senior year in high school, a relationship I had been comfortable with for a year and a half.  Freshman year, if i had to give it a theme, was my year of OBEDIENCE.  Though I had to make several choices that hurt, I could not have made it without the knowledge that I was being obedient to God's guidance and entrusting Him with knowing what is best for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophomore year, I think, was my year of trials.  My heart needed much healing from having broken off my relationship, and I had blindly dived into a very unhealthy living situation.  I was slammed with the reality that everyone is not easy to live with, and that it is important to know what exactly you are getting yourself into when moving in with people.  This is not to say that I regret having been in that situation, because I have come out of it a better person, and I hope that the others who were in it also came out of it better people.  &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Persevering&lt;/span&gt; through this situation &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; built character in me, and after that situation I reaped the benefits of being placed in a wonderful living situation with the Godliest girls I have ever met in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junior year, so far, has been a year for me of choosing to believe God.  I believe and know that His plans are best for me, and His timing is perfect, but so many times I want to take the control back into my own hands, and when I do, I get disappointed.  As the first semester of my senior year/second semester of my junior year unfolds, I will daily have to choose to believe God for His grace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Care to join me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-688789975223735118?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/688789975223735118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=688789975223735118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/688789975223735118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/688789975223735118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/choices.html' title='Choices'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-4527207632267258115</id><published>2007-01-06T18:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-06T19:02:32.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I had the privilege of spending the afternoon and evening with one of the best friends God has ever given me.  We've known eachother since we were about two years old, and have been friends ever since.  This Christmas break we had a little bit of trouble figuring out where we were going to spend time together, at her house (where it usually happens), or at my house over new years which is the coolest place to be and I wanted her to experience the New Years party in Antigua.  Well...neither. We wound up both being stubborn and waiting until the night before she had to go back to the States before we hung out in the capital and just talked and caught up...nothing that hadn't been done over the phone already, but presence is different.  The thing about our friendship is that it is sortof a David and Jonathan friendship...we are not afraid to be honest with one another and to admonish eachother.  We don't bring one another down, but try and encourage and build eachother up.  And we pray for eachother.  This is truly probably the best friend I'll ever have, because we've known eachother for 19 years...and will know eachother forever.  Can't wait to raise our families together, whether in the same place, or just knowing eachother on certain hoidays and whatnot.  My kids will call her Aunt Keeley.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-4527207632267258115?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/4527207632267258115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=4527207632267258115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4527207632267258115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/4527207632267258115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/friendship.html' title='Friendship'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-3408344463982796078</id><published>2007-01-04T09:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T09:44:45.710-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Patience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beth Moore'/><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>So, one of my new years resolutions is to read Beth Moore's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Praying God's Word Day by Day&lt;/span&gt;.  On January 3rd,  the little paragraph at the top caught my attention MAJORLY and I have been mulling over it ever since I read it.  It says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Patience to wait does not come from suffering long for what we lack but from sitting long in what we have."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My patience has been drawn so thin some days, that I just want to give up waiting for what I'm waiting for (make sense??) and take things in my own hands.  But, this totally gave me a new perspective and a new way to look at what I'm supposed to be being patient for.  "Sitting long" in my singleness is something I can do as opposed to "suffering long" for one of the things I desire the most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-3408344463982796078?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/3408344463982796078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=3408344463982796078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3408344463982796078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/3408344463982796078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-5870788054892654352</id><published>2007-01-03T10:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T10:51:31.061-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Traditions</title><content type='html'>New Year's Eve in Antigua, Guatemala has been said to be "better than Time's Square."  Antigua is where I intend to spend every New Year's  Eve possible, starting from when I was in the 10&lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, until I can no longer afford it, or come visit my parents for Christmas.  January 1st of every year, about thirty minutes before the sun goes down and it gets dark, the "&lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Santisimo&lt;/span&gt;" of Antigua (or some high priest in the Roman Catholic Church here) takes a thirty minute long walk around the central park here in Antigua under a little tent that the &lt;span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;parishioners&lt;/span&gt; carry for him, streaming incense around the street shooting mortar bombs in front of him as he takes his stroll around the square with everyone following him, maybe as a form of penance for the parishioners.  This is his blessing of the square of Antigua and who knows what else it is supposed to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-5870788054892654352?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/5870788054892654352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=5870788054892654352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5870788054892654352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/5870788054892654352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/traditions.html' title='Traditions'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4049136984941184341.post-858218724109342917</id><published>2007-01-02T16:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T16:43:55.391-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This New Year</title><content type='html'>Well, to start off the new year, I've "resolved" to become a regular blogger.  Hopefully this will be a source of encouragement for those who read it, in the regards of knowing that they may not be the only person going through what they are going through whether it be a hard time, or a moment of joy.  I hope that it may also be a source of encouragement for those who read it to share in my joy of knowing the Truth and knowing Abundant Life.  Have a blessed year, my friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4049136984941184341-858218724109342917?l=antiguaang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/feeds/858218724109342917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4049136984941184341&amp;postID=858218724109342917' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/858218724109342917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4049136984941184341/posts/default/858218724109342917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antiguaang.blogspot.com/2007/01/this-new-year.html' title='This New Year'/><author><name>Ang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01516268479741866439</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/_7ndwWAwiQZI/SRNfn0yKfgI/AAAAAAAACLw/OvjaEzxhv0I/S220/Angela4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
