<?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-6635098330345811043</id><updated>2011-07-08T03:40:05.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gospel According to Alyssa</title><subtitle type='html'>The  chronicles of Alyssa Rae Hallaway.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>70</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6120770890544793183</id><published>2011-03-02T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T13:20:43.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Newton's Law of Motion</title><content type='html'>Life is what you make it. &lt;br /&gt;No one is going to make it something for you. &lt;br /&gt;You continue to make your life as you age.&lt;br /&gt;As you grow.&lt;br /&gt;As you change.&lt;br /&gt;You can not expect it to make itself. &lt;br /&gt;It is an inanimate object.&lt;br /&gt;When an object is in motion it stays in motion.&lt;br /&gt;Unless acted upon by a force.&lt;br /&gt;When an object is at rest it stays at rest.&lt;br /&gt;Unless acted upon by a force.&lt;br /&gt;Life is an object that needs a force to act upon it. &lt;br /&gt;In your life you are that force.&lt;br /&gt;You cause the standstill.&lt;br /&gt;You cause the movement. &lt;br /&gt;Life is what you make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6120770890544793183?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6120770890544793183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6120770890544793183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6120770890544793183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6120770890544793183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2011/03/newtons-law-of-motion.html' title='Newton&apos;s Law of Motion'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5507829831859227576</id><published>2011-02-22T15:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T13:34:21.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revisting</title><content type='html'>Weneda is a girl that most people probably wouldn't think twice about. If you remember, I wrote a blog about her back in late June while I was in Haii. I said that by looking at her you would think that she has been through a lot. But you don't have to think about it to know its the truth. You know instantly the minute those dim, dull eyes look into yours that something is wrong. I have always thought that the eyes are really the widows to the soul and when you lock eyes with Weneda, it is as if she can see your soul but you can not see hers. There is nothing in her eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have thought about her every so often since I left Haiti in July. I think about her and pray for her all the time lately. If you know me very few people's emotional states effect me on a deep, deep level. Not to say that I am not empathetic but I just don't really let other people's "junk" weigh me down. I realized the other day that she had got to me on that deep, deep emotional level and those eyes have been haunting my sleep. I have been thinking about her for the last few days and like many of my thought trains, it began with something odd...a flip-flop. My favorite flip-flops are the leather ones from American Eagle. Nothing fancy. I always have a pair and they never leave my feet during the summer. The pair I had when I arrived in Haiti had probably been my favorite (next to the ones that are the header of my blog and the feature of the blog titled "Well Worn". I wore those until they broke and then some. I think that I still have them and they are surprisingly still wearable, I just can't find them.) Anyway I am getting away from my point. If you go look at "Well Worn" you will see that I have written on the sandals. They are bible verses. I am notorious for this. I write them on my shoes as a reminder to "walk them out" if my life. Its a corny joke that I made one time but its something that stuck with me. On the broken ones as well as the pair that I brought to Haiti with me, I wrote Luke 7:47...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...which is something that has stuck with me since the first time I read it. It is in the story of the prostitute that washed Jesus' feet. I love that story. The verse reminds me to forgive peopleand love people. No matter what. So I wrote it on my shoes as a reminder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was in Haiti this last time, I was challenged, daily, by this verse. Many things I had to forgive and many people I had to love, regardless. Which is harder than it sounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many things that I could say about Weneda and some of them I believe I have already told you. One thing I am sure that I didn't say was that she has been raped, many times. There are court cases pending...well, that is what is being said anyway. And its not like its not common knowledge, her mom lets everyone know. As hard as her life is already, I can't imagine what it is like knowing that EVERYONE knows your personal business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said earlier, I wrote Luke 7:47 on my sandals before I left for Haiti. Some of you are probably aware that I did not return to the states with these sandals. I gave them to Weneda. So as I found myself staring at my flip-flops the other day, I remembered that I had wrote that on there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been rolling the thought around in my head that, that verse also applies to her life as well as mine but in a radically different way. It took me at least two days to wrap my head around how and I am still not sure that I really get it. Whether I get it or not, this is the verse that comes to mind when I think about her. In her life she is going to have to learn to forgive many and love much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are so good to me, You heal my broken heart, You are my father in heaven"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5507829831859227576?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5507829831859227576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5507829831859227576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5507829831859227576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5507829831859227576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2011/02/revisting.html' title='Revisting'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6641210429240762695</id><published>2010-07-21T14:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-21T14:20:03.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts about the Unexplainable</title><content type='html'>When you go to Haiti, there is an underlying dynamic that you feel. You can not see it and you don't realize that it has even touched you until you have settled back in to what you think is normal. This dynamic is completely emotional. It is what pulls at your heart strings. When you are in Haiti there is no such thing as down time so it is able to sneak in, in the exhaustion that you feel and it goes unchecked. It is in conversations that you have and the people that you see. I believe that it is even in the air and in the rain. It is not something that we have here in the states. We have an underlying dynamic that is never mentioned but it is also never felt. Haiti is a place that makes you feel things and if you are not careful and even if you are, it brings out the ugly in you. This dynamic makes you feel all the things that, here in the states, we refuse to feel, see all the things that we refuse to see and to hear all the things that we refuse to hear. I think that it might stem from the heightened sense of awareness that you have while you are in Haiti. No distractions. It is also something that I can not explain and in any serious attempt, I would fail miserably unless I was talking to someone who has been to Haiti and felt what I am talking about. Not to say that you couldn't understand...it is just unexplainable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6641210429240762695?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6641210429240762695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6641210429240762695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6641210429240762695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6641210429240762695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/07/thoughts-about-unexplainable.html' title='Thoughts about the Unexplainable'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2825249706648745174</id><published>2010-07-08T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T16:28:25.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>aesthetics</title><content type='html'>"Sometimes we fall down and can't get back up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were hiding behind a skin that's too tough"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiti is a beautiful place if you know how to look at it.&lt;br /&gt;You have to be able to see past the the trash and the rubble.&lt;br /&gt;Smell past the garbage and the rot.&lt;br /&gt;Feel past the rocks in your shoes and your own discomfort.&lt;br /&gt;You need to able to feel the music and the voices.&lt;br /&gt;Smell the food and the trees in the air.&lt;br /&gt;You have to be able to see the colors and the people.&lt;br /&gt;All of these things are wholly Haiti.&lt;br /&gt;Even the garbage.&lt;br /&gt;Yet to get caught up in the way it smells and your discomfort, would be a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;You would miss a rich and colorful people with a rich and colorful culture and history.&lt;br /&gt;You would miss a people who are stronger than any that you have ever met.&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't see those things about them.&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't be able to talk to them.&lt;br /&gt;Understand them.&lt;br /&gt;Understand that they feel very deeply and how you can hear that in their loud and boisterous conversations that sound like arguments.&lt;br /&gt;You would not see the blue of the sky or the white of the moon.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it would be a mistake to get caught up in aesthetics when this place has so much more to offer than a look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TDZe6NvVsYI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Ta7lI9dhO7g/s1600/DSC_0180.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TDZe6NvVsYI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Ta7lI9dhO7g/s320/DSC_0180.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491681149838537090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes we fall down and can't get back up&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2825249706648745174?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2825249706648745174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2825249706648745174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2825249706648745174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2825249706648745174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/07/aesthetics.html' title='aesthetics'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TDZe6NvVsYI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Ta7lI9dhO7g/s72-c/DSC_0180.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4638070958104872586</id><published>2010-06-29T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T16:16:49.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English Camp Day 2 aka Weneda</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCp7F784IAI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Bcqk0kzInuo/s1600/DSC_0661.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCp7F784IAI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Bcqk0kzInuo/s320/DSC_0661.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488334437826961410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By looking at her you would think that she has been through a lot. You would probably be right in that assumption. She is only about 15 years old and she has epilepsy. Her name is Weneda. She is beautiful and scared. Her face leaves a haunting reminder of what can happen here when things go unchecked. Her mother has said in the past that she has had a seizure and fallen into the fire and that is how she has gained the scars that are on her face and arms. But you know that there is more to that story than will ever be told. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above picture was taken minutes after she had a seizure today at English Camp. It was as unexpected as the sight of a cat in Haiti and no one saw it coming because none of us knew. No one had been told that she had epilepsy. I knew who her mother was and that she had a daughter with epilepsy but I never made the connection that it was her. None of us that know her mother did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During her classes bible lesson today she just stopped moving. The other kids began to tell us that she was sick and no one knew what was going on. I looked at her and immediately knew that she was having a seizure. I had seen it happen before and it scared me. All of the kids flew off the bench like it had just been lit on fire. They said they didn't want to get her sickness. After she came back to us we, you could see it on her face that she was afraid. She didn't know what had happened. We tried to move her and she clung to the bench. We finally conveyed to her what we were doing and what had happened and she allowed us to move her. We tried to figure out what was going on with her and all of this. We asked her if she was on medication or had any for her seizures. She said that she had lost her prescription. Well...then later today we talked to her again and she said that she had her prescription and would bring it tomorrow because they can't get it around here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the seizure today, it hurt my heart to see the way the kids treated her. No one wanted to sit back down on the bench with her. They didn't want her sickness. All of us that were in the room told the kids that they had to sit down. It actually fit right in with the lesson that Amrajeet had been talking about. The love of Jesus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCp-uelg19I/AAAAAAAAAIc/tEh0I0qY1wA/s1600/DSC_0389.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCp-uelg19I/AAAAAAAAAIc/tEh0I0qY1wA/s320/DSC_0389.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488338432853858258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4638070958104872586?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4638070958104872586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4638070958104872586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4638070958104872586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4638070958104872586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/06/english-camp-day-2-aka-weneda.html' title='English Camp Day 2 aka Weneda'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCp7F784IAI/AAAAAAAAAIU/Bcqk0kzInuo/s72-c/DSC_0661.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2011716235024417790</id><published>2010-06-28T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T19:42:58.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of a Shoe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TClV9t-JjRI/AAAAAAAAAIM/UAm7MQbyo_U/s1600/DSC_0540.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TClV9t-JjRI/AAAAAAAAAIM/UAm7MQbyo_U/s320/DSC_0540.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488012139728309522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am pro shoes. I love to wear all kinds and when I heard about Tom's, I was all for that. One for one. Buy one pair and they give one away to someone else when they do a shoe drop. But I never realized the gravity of the statement "One for One" until today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During camp as I was walking around and talking to the kids, I saw shoes that looked familiar. I looked at them, and looked at them but couldn't place them. Until I saw the little blue and white flag on the back of them. At once there was this overwhelming sense of joy in me as I realized at once that they were shoe drop shoes. I had never seen them before and I was thrilled that they had come here and handed out shoes. I was thought that this is what it looks like when this mission comes full circle. A little girl in earthquake devastated Haiti wearing the same shoes that I have on my own feet at that very moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a moment to keep in my heart place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2011716235024417790?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2011716235024417790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2011716235024417790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2011716235024417790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2011716235024417790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/06/power-of-shoe.html' title='The Power of a Shoe'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TClV9t-JjRI/AAAAAAAAAIM/UAm7MQbyo_U/s72-c/DSC_0540.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1992626027896600053</id><published>2010-06-27T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T19:51:03.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Feilds Are Blue and Gray</title><content type='html'>I can honestly say that I never imagined that seeing the tent cities would be so emotional. As we were driving to the beach yesterday we saw many. Some were in the city, near civilization. Those were not the ones that I found to be so heartbreaking. It was the ones that I saw when we got past all the cars and all the buildings. The ones on the beach road. We stopped at a gas station and I have to say that I wouldn't have seen them if I hadn't been on top of the cage truck. I seemed to have the perfect view of them from where I sat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgJ9btf6yI/AAAAAAAAAHk/_YdiYPgaKNk/s1600/DSC_0116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgJ9btf6yI/AAAAAAAAAHk/_YdiYPgaKNk/s320/DSC_0116.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487647096966212386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were shocking. Sitting there gleaming in the sun, dots of blue and gray. Somehow they were horrifying. You looked at them and knew that they had moved out here. Knowing that the nearest town is several miles in either direction was part of the horrifying feeling the gripped me. I began to cry. Those people left all they had left behind and moved out of the city, where buildings could fall on them, to a place that seemed to be the middle of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgLDuEFZtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/tp-mmK9Lgsk/s1600/DSC_0138.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgLDuEFZtI/AAAAAAAAAHs/tp-mmK9Lgsk/s320/DSC_0138.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487648304483624658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart began to hurt as we pulled away from the gas station and I could see just how far the blue and gray dots went. So many people displaced. Forced from their home, if they even had one left to begin with. I wanted to stop and talk to these people. To ask them why they had really moved so far and to see how far they had come to be right here. I wondered if any had come form down town knowing, that it would be safer out here with no unstable building for miles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgMC2k9PTI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Snzz_ndG8V4/s1600/DSC_0141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgMC2k9PTI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Snzz_ndG8V4/s320/DSC_0141.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487649389100743986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What hurt the most was that, on the way back form the beach it was raining or threatening to...it wasn't, isn't, fair. I felt bad that I got to go sleep with a solid roof over my head and a soft bed under my back and all they had was the tent or plastic tarp to sleep under and maybe nothing to sleep on. To think about the fact that there is nothing I can do hurts my head. Makes my heart cry and my eyes weep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as we were driving and it began to rain, the Lord reminded me of the song that I always find to be stuck in my head when I am in Haiti. Here are the words that came to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my strong melody&lt;br /&gt;You are my dancing rhythm&lt;br /&gt;You are my perfect rhyme&lt;br /&gt;And I want to sing forever &lt;br /&gt;That you are beautiful my sweet, sweet song  &lt;br /&gt;You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song  &lt;br /&gt;You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song  &lt;br /&gt;And you will sing again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to cry once again. Knowing that it is going to get worse before anything gets better. Knowing that there is nothing I can do to fix the houses. Know that soon He will erase the dots of blue and gray and Haiti will sing again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1992626027896600053?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1992626027896600053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1992626027896600053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1992626027896600053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1992626027896600053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/06/feilds-are-blue-and-gray.html' title='The Feilds Are Blue and Gray'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/TCgJ9btf6yI/AAAAAAAAAHk/_YdiYPgaKNk/s72-c/DSC_0116.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2775578208135524728</id><published>2010-06-26T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T05:08:16.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Business as Usual</title><content type='html'>Grace and I made it safely to Haiti. Just to update everyone. We are safe and sound at the Tlucek's house. And got to sleep on the balcony with an amazing breeze and very little bugs...yeah thats right be jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on a serious not as I was getting in the car after our escapades inside the "little airport" (which is really a little room with a baggage conveyor belt and lots of people...), people were still standing outside trying to get you take take their taxi, which is obviously the best one to take...and there are still people hanging off the fence asking you for money. The thought that kept coming to me was "Business as Usual". There has been this horrible event that took place and when you look at the people, it seems as though nothing has happened. They are just here doing business as usual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2775578208135524728?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2775578208135524728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2775578208135524728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2775578208135524728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2775578208135524728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/06/business-as-usual.html' title='Business as Usual'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2531265144097043334</id><published>2010-06-23T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T18:54:22.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blurb is the word</title><content type='html'>So just a quick little blurb. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't already know I am leaving for Haiti on Friday. I am going to be gone for 10 days and will be working with Byron and Shelley Tlucek doing English Camp. I am also bringing in fabric for the sewing program and will be working with Heartline Ministries (who also oversees English Camp...) bringing in supplies such as birthing kits, for their full time clinic/birthing center that they are hard at work setting up. I know? Awesome right? So I will be doing all of that and who knows what else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and for any one that cares...I get to spend from, roughly, 10:30 am to 4:00 pm in the Miami airport...I know you can just see me leaping for joy. This is the time that people watching will be in full swing...pictures to come be looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2531265144097043334?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2531265144097043334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2531265144097043334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2531265144097043334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2531265144097043334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/06/blurb-is-word.html' title='Blurb is the word'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-7154239038997537372</id><published>2010-05-29T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T17:42:36.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering Sarah</title><content type='html'>This is an old video that I made a few years ago. I watched it today and balled my eyes out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="240" &gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/5656518177" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/5656518177" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="240"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-7154239038997537372?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/7154239038997537372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=7154239038997537372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7154239038997537372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7154239038997537372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/05/remembering-sarah.html' title='Remembering Sarah'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2611463547721250563</id><published>2010-05-29T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T14:49:45.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We are...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="540" height="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4KVSkNZ9pQA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4KVSkNZ9pQA&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="540" height="320"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2611463547721250563?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2611463547721250563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2611463547721250563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2611463547721250563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2611463547721250563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/05/we-are.html' title='We are...'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4237340092500435817</id><published>2010-05-26T17:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T17:28:59.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Haiti 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So I have a plane ticket. Leaving June 25th, 2010. Coming back July 6th, 2010.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is kinda leaving a bittersweet taste in my mouth. It has been two years since I have been to Haiti. I was there for English Camp. I am going for English Camp this year as well. I wish that I could say that it was going to be the same as the past years. 60 kids in 60 kids out, for six weeks (I am only going for the first week this time) and done. It is crazy enough as it is that way. This year there are a few new factors. Haiti is &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; having aftershocks. They just had&lt;i&gt;another&lt;/i&gt; earthquake not to long ago. So the ground is still shaking. Shifting. Changing. So English camp has to change. I am pretty sure that means the workers have to change and not expect what has been before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I will be in Haiti for 11 days. Pray for me. Keep me in your thoughts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/S_28j6murXI/AAAAAAAAAHc/q3-Q62pEJiE/s1600/100_1332.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/S_28j6murXI/AAAAAAAAAHc/q3-Q62pEJiE/s320/100_1332.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475740047165533554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lamou Vire Tet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Luke 7:47 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alyssa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4237340092500435817?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4237340092500435817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4237340092500435817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4237340092500435817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4237340092500435817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/05/haiti-2010.html' title='Haiti 2010'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/S_28j6murXI/AAAAAAAAAHc/q3-Q62pEJiE/s72-c/100_1332.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3211586340640046934</id><published>2010-01-07T19:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T19:40:25.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>Today was a day that I began.&lt;div&gt;I am not sure that I will finish it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has become hard to live in that twenty four hour period, between sun up and sun down, in the spaces that we call day and night on this wretched planet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its dangerous not to mention lonely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where have you been? I have needed you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The space of the night is when I feel real fear. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thats when I feel real terror, that no man can calm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where have you been? I have needed you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3211586340640046934?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3211586340640046934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3211586340640046934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3211586340640046934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3211586340640046934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2010/01/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2501570613743510791</id><published>2009-10-23T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T10:07:02.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious: New Movie (You should go see it...)</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/b5FYahzVU44&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/b5FYahzVU44&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="295" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2501570613743510791?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2501570613743510791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2501570613743510791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2501570613743510791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2501570613743510791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post_23.html' title='Precious: New Movie (You should go see it...)'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-8077504103555867442</id><published>2009-07-26T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T16:32:13.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoghts: Heading to the Frozen North</title><content type='html'>So as I sit here packing to go to Minnesota, I decided that I should check the weather so I can pack accordingly...its not like I have warm clothes, on the off chance that it will be cold, anyway. I guess it doesn't matter if it is cold or not if you know me well you know that if the weather gets under 70 degrees, I am going to need a jacket and if I don't happen I am going to freeze (think about that next time...bring an extra jacket for Alyssa...just a thought...haha). Anyway so I am looking at the weather...and this is what it looks like when I get up there:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: High- 72 (not bad ) Low-56 (I am going to freeze to death)&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: High- 74 (eh... ) Low-57 (I can thaw in the morning I suppose) and rain (we all know how much I love the rain...I prefer the sun...)&lt;br /&gt;Friday:High- 79 (Almost 80 hooray! ) Low-60 (oh oh getting warmer) and rain (really...?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to Canby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:High- 79 (again almost 80!) Low-58 (I am going to freeze to death) and rain (ugh!)&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:High- 78 (I &lt;3 warm weather ) Low-56 (I am going to freeze to death)&lt;br /&gt;Monday:High- 79 (can it not just be 80? ) Low-57 (I am going to freeze to death)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Minneapolis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday:High- 77 (again eh... ) Low-59 (this does not count since I will be back in ATL where it will be 69 degrees!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought you all would like to know how that the weather report for somewhere you are not going to be and someplace that you have never heard of...haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-8077504103555867442?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/8077504103555867442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=8077504103555867442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/8077504103555867442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/8077504103555867442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/thoghts-heading-to-frozen-north.html' title='Thoghts: Heading to the Frozen North'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5034368873623027141</id><published>2009-07-22T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T19:49:57.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God = Mufasa? And Rafiki = the Holy Spirit?</title><content type='html'>So if you haven't figured it out yet, I can find God in anything. Random movies that you would never think of, any sort of music and well of course Veggie Tales. Did you ever think that God was all in The Lion King? I was watching that movie tonight while I was baby sitting and noticed a lot of things that reminded me of God/Jesus and the Holy Spirit. I have decided that Mufasa is God/Jesus and that Rafiki is the Holy Spirit and Scar is the Devil and Simba represents the people in the world. By this point you think I am crazy right? But really look, Mufasa dies/gives his life to save Simba. Scar makes Simba think that it is his fault that his father died when really Scar killed him. Then Simba runs away and Scar assumes his throne. He meets Timon and Pumba who, no matter how great they are, tell him that whatever happened in the past doesn't matter and that there is nothing he can do about it and keep him in the world living the great life. The Nala comes and finds him on "accident" and tells him what he has been going on. She tries to open his eyes and show him what is going on but he refuses to see the truth. Then him and Nala get in a fight and she gives up. Then he goes out into a field and begins to yell at the Mufasa for leaving him behind and forgetting him. Then he meets Rafiki. For this example I have a video. 2 actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KIMbzKbDge4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KIMbzKbDge4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ykbx-yzFgBo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ykbx-yzFgBo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x402061&amp;amp;color2=0x9461ca" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So even though Simba calls him a creepy little monkey, he makes a valid point..."The past can hurt but, you either run from it or learn from it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is my daily bible lesson using The Lion King to explain how God/Jesus loves us so much that he would do anything to protect us, he would even die for us. Then He has given us the Holy Spirit to help us and to show us things, to open our eyes and see what is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go. I hope that I have enriched your life. Maybe the next time you watch a movie you will look for God to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5034368873623027141?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5034368873623027141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5034368873623027141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5034368873623027141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5034368873623027141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/god-mufasa-and-rafiki-holy-spirit.html' title='God = Mufasa? And Rafiki = the Holy Spirit?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-8396359312527557646</id><published>2009-07-19T11:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T11:05:03.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Story....</title><content type='html'>So this is a short story that I wrote...well the beginning of it...i think that it might be turning into something longer...who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think for a second. What would you have done in my situation? Waking up in the dark, not being able to see, not knowing how you got there, where there is. There is no way out. I was trapped. I thought I was going to die in there. You would have shot him to. I don't remember where I got the gun. I guess I found it. But you would have done the same thing that I did. Shot him I mean. He was going to kill me. How do I know that? What else is a man that has the keys to the room going to do. What do you mean he could have been there to save me? There's not way. No one was going to find me in there so I know that it was the guy that put me in there. It had to be. I told you, I don't know how I got there. I woke up in there. I told you that to. I couldn't see anything because it was so dark. I have no idea how I found the gun. I just remember having it in my hand and you told me that you can prove that I did, I'm not lying about that. There is no reason to. I told you that I shot him when I walked in here. Why would I make the whole thing up? I'm not. I have no reason to. There is no reason for me to lie to you. Why would I have locked myself in a dark room, then slid the key under the door and knocked myself on the head so hard that I can't remember what happened before then. Yes I remember what happened earlier that day. I can remember that much. Some of it is fuzzy cause it was little stuff but I remember most of it. Tell you? I already told you. I didn't? I remember telling you! Why do I need to tell you again? Why do you need to record it? I will be fine. I don't think that I need to tell you what happened again. Why should I when I already have? I understand that you need to record it but why didn't you do that before, the first time? You didn't think of it? Oh. I am not sure if I can tell it exactly the same. Things seem to fade in and out of focus if I think about it to long. Ok. I will try. I will try my best to make it make sense. Yes I understand that I have to tell the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. I told you that already! Why do you keep repeating yourself? I don't think you need to do that. It is very unneces...oh right I need to tell you again so you can record it. Why do you need to record it? I want to know! Because I want to know! I know that you are not going to use it against me, I just want to know! Please just tell you...ok. There is no use in arguing about it I suppose...no point at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It began like any normal day would begin. I got out of bed took a shower and brushed my teeth, ate breakfast. got dressed. Not in that order but kinda in that order. I got up later than normal for some reason. It was ten thirty instead of eight thirty. I didn't have to be to work at the cafe until noon so I was still on time. By the time that I was done with my routine I still had an hour left. I was headed back upstairs when, I saw that there was a letter laying on the floor in front of the front door. That was odd since the mail normally comes at around one, I suppose, I hear the slot and the cat meows and I know that the mail is here. I really do have a cat and he meows every time that the mail slot clangs. I don't remember hearing the cat meow. I don't remember seeing the cat that morning either. I wonder where he was? He must have been upstairs. Anyway, I walked over to the letter and looked at it. Nothing but my name. No return address or stamp. Nothing. Just my name.  I turned it over and over making sure I didn't miss anything. I am going to school to be a CSI, so I look at things like that. I found it very peculiar that there was none of the regular writings on this envelope. It was very peculiar. Well not that peculiar, I came to the conclusion that someone I know had slipped it in my slot. So I again began to head up the stairs. I didn't open the letter on the way up. I didn't want to trip. I am so clumsy when it comes to stairs. I fall up, down, sideways. I have to watch my feet go up the stairs so I don't have a fall. I ave been that way since I was little. The klutz of the family. I decided, once I had gotten up stairs that I was going to do something different with my hair since I had so much time on my hands before I had to be to work. The cafe is just down at the end of the street. It is like a five minute walk for me. I love working there. I have worked there for about seven years now. It pays well to. The letter was still in my hand when I walked into bathroom. I set it on the counter and looked in the mirror, then back at the letter. I picked it up and flipped it over to open it. There was some, well, what looked like gold dust around the edges. I thought that was odd and didn't know of any of my friends that could afford envelopes like this, let alone gold dust to put on them. I looked at it for a couple more seconds and then put it down again. Then I began to do my hair. About five minutes into it I realized that it was a lost cause and then picked up the envelope and went back to my bedroom and sat on the edge of my bed and opened the letter. The inside of the envelope was a dark burgundy color. I pulled out the letter itself and unfolded it. The writing was in gold and whoever wrote it had excellent penmanship. I looked at it and it began to remind me of something Hannibal Lecter wrote to Clarice. I read it and this is what it said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I need you to come outside of your home and look up the street. You will find  that this will mean something to you if you do not do what I have asked you.  There is going to be someone waiting for you, with someone that you know. You are to follow them to the next street and there will be more instructions for you once you reach the next street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the time I slumped it off and threw away the letter. I thought that it was some practical joke. Practical joke. Why do they call them that? They never see very practical. Anyway I went back down stairs and got my stuff and headed out the door. I figured that if there was someone waiting for me, that they had moved on seeing that I was not coming out. I had no idea how long the letter had been there. It could have been there since six in the morning for all I know. I began to walk to work. I was watching for people that seemed out of place. I guess that the letter had kinda spooked me in a way. I arrived at work safe and sound. No one was waiting there for me either and no one had been waiting for me on the street. I worked all day without incident as well. No one looking to get me and take me to the next street over form mine. Its funny to think about it in a way. I worked late that night. I had to close the place up that night. I was alone which is not the normal way that my boss does things. He normally has two of us close the store. We get it done faster so we are not there until early morning cleaning up. But the day had been slow and there was not really much to clean up that needed to be done. I was coming in early the next morning to open the cafe so i could finnish before anyone else got there and knew that I had slacked the night before. I put the dishes in the dish washer, grabbed my coat and purse and called it a night. Despite it being a slow day I was tired. I locked up and began the short walk back to my little town home. Nothing funny had happened that day so, I thought I knew now that it had been no more than a joke. I was about to go up my steps when someone struck me from behind. I didn't pass out right away. It starts to get fuzzy here. I remember someone dragging me back down the steps. Then I remember seeing the street that I live on and then I blacked out. The next thing that I know I woke up in this room. I couldn't see anything because it was dark. Very dark. I looked around with my hands trying to find a door. I suppose that is when I found the gun. I guess that when I was running my hands across the floor I found it. I found the door as well. I decided that I would sit on the other side of the room form the door. I didn't want them to be able to find me easily and there was maybe a chance that I could get to the other side of the room before they could find me. Unless they had a flash light or something that would light up the room. There could have been a switch on the outside of the door. I am not sure how long I sat in the room. I think that I fell asleep a couple of times so, I could have been in there for days. I am not sure. All I know is that after I had been in there for some time a man unlocked the door. I heard him turn the lock with a key. No lights came on. It was still dark. I was directly across from the door so, the light from the hall shone in the room and lit up the spot where I was sitting. He began to walk toward me with his arms out like he was going to grab me and hurt me. So I shot him. I am not sure how many times. I just shot till he fell to the ground and didn't move. Then I ran here. That is what I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean do I know where I am? Of course I do. I am in the police stations in an interrogation room telling you about what happened to me. Someone kidnapped me and I escaped and I am telling you so you can go get them. Of course I know who you are. You are a detective. Yes you are and this is a police station. What do you mean its not? People saw me run in here! They were asking me if I was ok and if I needed help but I just kept running. What do you mean that my story is made up. I am not lying! Well how can it be made up but not a lie. That is what a lie is, a made up story! You know that. Of course you do. There were names in my story. I told you the name of my cat. I did! I remember telling you that his name was...why can't I remember his name? I do to have a cat! I do! I am not lying to you detective. Of course you are a detective and this is a police station interrogation room. Your a doctor? Then why are you talking to me? I need to be talking to a detective. He needs to be taking my story down so he can catch the guy. What do you mean that there is no guy? I know that I shot him but the police need to go back and get him so that they can see if he had help in all of this and they can find all of the clues! I need to speak to a detective. The letter was addressed to me, I really think that I should be telling to this to a detective and not a doctor. No offense. Why do you keep saying that there are no detectives here? This is a police station there are loads of them here! What do you mean that this is a hospital? Why am I in an interrogation room then? This is not an interrogation room? It sure looks like one. If I am in a hospital I need to get to the police. What do you mean I can't go to the police? You don't need to protect me from them. It was self defense and you don't go to jail if it was the only way for you to defend yourself. Well if you are not trying to protect me then why can't I go to the police? It did happen? I have a bump on the back of my head from where he hit me! I did not hit myself! Why would I do that? What do you mean I had a violent outburst? What does the mean? I do not have multiple personalities. I am in perfect health! I have been all of my life. I may be a klutz but that does mean that I have several people living in my head. There were names in my story! I told you the name of the cafe that I work at and the name of my cat and the name of the friend that I thought had written me the letter. Just because you don't remember them does not make me a crazy person! I am calm! Don't tell me to calm down I am calm. If none of this happened, where did I get these bruises? Why do I have these cuts on my arms and my hands? A violent outburst...no, I was attacked! And I need to leave here and get to the police. I killed a man and when they find him I don't want there to be a problem and them not know that it was in self defense. I had no choice. I was in a dark room and I did shoot someone. I did! Stop telling me that I didn't. Let go of me! Don't do that! I am not crazy let me go! I need to get to the poli....stat....they need to take my state....I need to tell them that I did....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If you need an explanation...uh...feel free to ask...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-8396359312527557646?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/8396359312527557646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=8396359312527557646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/8396359312527557646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/8396359312527557646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/short-story.html' title='Short Story....'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3096876552997745431</id><published>2009-07-10T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T16:19:02.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Matisyahu Old City Beat Box</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/sy-1739981240/matisyahu_old_city_beat_box_official_music_video.swf" width="400" height="345" wmode="transparent" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" name="Metacafe_sy-1739981240"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span size =" 1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/sy-1739981240/matisyahu_old_city_beat_box_official_music_video/"&gt;Matisyahu - Old City Beat Box (Official Music Video)&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/"&gt;Funny bloopers are a click away&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3096876552997745431?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3096876552997745431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3096876552997745431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3096876552997745431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3096876552997745431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/matisyahu-old-city-beat-box.html' title='Matisyahu Old City Beat Box'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3752522169672354950</id><published>2009-07-10T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T16:17:45.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>King Without A Crown - Matisyahu</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="large"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Zee you're all that I have and you're all that I need&lt;br /&gt;Each and every day I pray to get to know you please&lt;br /&gt;I want to be close to you, yes I'm so hungry&lt;br /&gt;You're like water for my soul when it gets thirsty&lt;br /&gt;Without you there's no me&lt;br /&gt;You're the air that I breathe&lt;br /&gt;Say sometimes the world is dark and I just can't see&lt;br /&gt;With these, demons surround all around to bring me down to negativity&lt;br /&gt;But I believe, yes I believe, I said I believe&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand on my own two feet&lt;br /&gt;Won't be brought down on one knee&lt;br /&gt;Fight with all of my might and get these demons to flee&lt;br /&gt;Hashem's rays fire blaze burn bright and I believe&lt;br /&gt;Hashem's rays fire blaze burn bright and I believe&lt;br /&gt;Out of darkness comes light, twilight unto the heights&lt;br /&gt;Crown Heights burnin' up all through till twilight&lt;br /&gt;Said, thank you to my God, now I finally got it right&lt;br /&gt;And I'll fight with all of my heart, and all a' my soul, and all a' my might&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus (2x):]&lt;br /&gt;What's this feeling?&lt;br /&gt;My love will rip a hole in the ceiling&lt;br /&gt;Givin' myself to you now from the essence of my being&lt;br /&gt;And I sing to my God, songs of love and healing&lt;br /&gt;I want Moshiach now, time it starts revealing&lt;br /&gt;What's this feeling?&lt;br /&gt;My love will rip a hole in the ceiling&lt;br /&gt;Givin' myself to you now from the essence of my being&lt;br /&gt;And I sing to my God, songs of love and healing&lt;br /&gt;I want Moshiach now. ya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strip away the layers and reveal your soul&lt;br /&gt;Got to give yourself up and then you become whole&lt;br /&gt;You're a slave to yourself and you don't even know&lt;br /&gt;Want to live the fast life but your brain moves slow&lt;br /&gt;If you're trying to stay high then you're bound to stay low&lt;br /&gt;You want God but you couldn't deflate your ego&lt;br /&gt;If you're already there then there's nowhere to go&lt;br /&gt;If you're cup's already full then its bound to overflow&lt;br /&gt;If you're drowning in the water's and you can't stay afloat&lt;br /&gt;Ask Hashem for mercy and he'll throw you a rope&lt;br /&gt;Looking for help from God you say he couldn't be found&lt;br /&gt;Searching up to the sky and looking beneath the ground&lt;br /&gt;Like a King without his Crown&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you keep fallin' down&lt;br /&gt;You really want to live but can't get rid of your frown&lt;br /&gt;You try to reach unto the heights and wound bound down on the ground&lt;br /&gt;Given up your pride and the you heard a sound&lt;br /&gt;Out of night comes day and out of day comes light&lt;br /&gt;Said nullified to the One like sunlight in a ray,&lt;br /&gt;Make room for his love and a fire gone blaze&lt;br /&gt;Make room for his love and a fire gone blaze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus (2x):]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yah yah, yah yah yo yah yah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0oHAgfVgiw"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0oHAgfVgiw&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3752522169672354950?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3752522169672354950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3752522169672354950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3752522169672354950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3752522169672354950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/king-without-crown-matisyahu.html' title='King Without A Crown - Matisyahu'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-8573080885556019416</id><published>2009-07-08T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T19:15:10.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wish You Were A Stranger I Could Disengage</title><content type='html'>I make a point to keep people out. You could be my best friend and not see the depths of my personality that I keep covered with the rugs I call beautiful. If you are not careful, you could fall into these chasms and not know who I am anymore. They should really be marked off with neon yellow caution tape or have a sigh next to them saying approach with caution. But I choose to hide them with elaborate rugs. Only the people that feel out the floor of my personality realize that there are depths of me to be explored. The ones that decide to go spelunking are the ones that I know I can keep around. But most people I make a point to keep out. The floor is uneven and holey and you could get hurt if you don't have the proper gear. Yet there are things in life that can not be kept out, no matter how hard you try. Things that you see that rip and tear at things in your life. Turning up the rugs and letting the lava underneath come to the surface to flow freely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you keep people out and don't really get to know them, or let them get to know the real you, you can disengage them when they go away or when they say something hurtful or when you just don't feel like spending time with them. Things get difficult when you let people in. You have to talk to them. You can't just tell them never to talk to you again when they say something hurtful, you have to talk it out and you kind of have to spend time with them so you don't hurt their feelings. You start to feel like you are tip toeing around so no toes get stepped on. Not my personality to tip toe, I just let it all out and tell you what I am thinking and feeling...so letting people in is hard for me because you have to care about them (and not say what I am thinking all the time) and you have to let them care about you. Well I like to walk normally so when people are tip toeing around me and try not to hurt my feelings with everything that they do, I sometimes just want to say "Hey, I'm a big girl, I tie my own sandals and everything.". But I don't I just let them figure it out for themselves. It saves me the trouble of explaining myself or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then letting all the people around you, that you call your friends be strangers, is not a good thing either. Being able to disengage with people when it gets hard is needed sometimes but doing it all the time is not a good thing I have learned. Some people are worth being let in. And not just the ones that go spelunking when they find a cave in the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpiEEl_5pmA"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpiEEl_5pmA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-8573080885556019416?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/8573080885556019416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=8573080885556019416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/8573080885556019416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/8573080885556019416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-wish-you-were-stranger-i-could.html' title='I Wish You Were A Stranger I Could Disengage'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2876622362195919396</id><published>2009-07-03T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T16:38:53.947-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uhhh...New Favorite Song...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;Jackson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; I'm goin' to Jackson, I'm gonna mess around,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Yeah, I'm goin' to Jackson,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Look out Jackson town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Well, go on down to Jackson; go ahead and wreck your health.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; You're goin' to Jackson; go comb your hair!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Honey, I'm gonna snowball Jackson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; See if I care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; When I breeze into that city, people gonna stoop and bow. (Hah!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; All them women gonna make me, teach 'em what they don't know how,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; I'm goin' to Jackson, you turn-a loose-a my coat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; 'Cos I'm goin' to Jackson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; "Goodbye," that's all she wrote.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; But they'll laugh at you in Jackson, and I'll be dancin' on a Pony Keg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; They'll lead you 'round town like a scalded hound,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; With your tail tucked between your legs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; You're goin' to Jackson, you big-talkin' man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; And I'll be waitin' in Jackson, behind my Jaypan Fan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Well now, we got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper Sprout,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; We've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; I'm goin' to Jackson, and that's a fact.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Yeah, we're goin' to Jackson, ain't never comin' back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; Well, we got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; And we've been talkin' 'bout Jackson, ever since the fire went...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;i&gt;[To Fade]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2876622362195919396?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2876622362195919396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2876622362195919396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2876622362195919396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2876622362195919396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/uhhhnew-favorite-song.html' title='Uhhh...New Favorite Song...'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5448637681351245976</id><published>2009-07-01T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T22:33:22.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be</title><content type='html'>Be still my beating heart&lt;br /&gt;For I can not sleep, I can not think, I can not see&lt;br /&gt;Be still so I may know my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Be still so my mind can work and and process&lt;br /&gt;Slow thy ever fastening pace so that I can breathe&lt;br /&gt;In&lt;br /&gt;iod.&lt;br /&gt;Out&lt;br /&gt;he.&lt;br /&gt;In&lt;br /&gt;ve.&lt;br /&gt;Out&lt;br /&gt;he.&lt;br /&gt;Calm thy self so that I may be able to see what is around me and take it all in&lt;br /&gt;And not just whiz by in a flash of beats&lt;br /&gt;Come back to the rhythm that you once had&lt;br /&gt;Keep me alive and keep beating at that pace of which I am accustomed&lt;br /&gt;Stop this tempo and makes these haphazard beats&lt;br /&gt;Become a sweet cadence once again&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that this was all drivel that expelled from my mouth&lt;br /&gt;Be still my beating heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no my heart responds&lt;br /&gt;It says that this is new, this is fun, this is real&lt;br /&gt;This is the pace that I was meant to beat at&lt;br /&gt;I was not meant to be held in this one meter that is mediocre&lt;br /&gt;I was meant to fly and sing loud, not to be held by the killing ache that made me break&lt;br /&gt;No, no I will not be still&lt;br /&gt;For I have found what I was meant to do&lt;br /&gt;I was meant to feel, I was meant to chant, I was meant to love and be loved&lt;br /&gt;So no I will no be still&lt;br /&gt;For the mind is good to know other things&lt;br /&gt;But of this I know far more than any gray matter between your ears&lt;br /&gt;I feel the drums deep in your heart place that have come alive with this ever resonating song&lt;br /&gt;And I feel the thunder shake the foundation of these dusty walls&lt;br /&gt;So no I will not be still&lt;br /&gt;For I am alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ibzvBFM8igE"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ibzvBFM8igE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5448637681351245976?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5448637681351245976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5448637681351245976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5448637681351245976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5448637681351245976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/07/be.html' title='Be'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6073451046895968851</id><published>2009-06-30T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T10:57:12.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it raining? Or am I just thinking that?</title><content type='html'>I love the rain. I always have. It makes me feel like something bigger than me is out there. I know that there is but the rain makes me feel it. Thunderstorms make me feel it. Lightning makes me see it. I love to see and hear and feel. The rain that you see. The thunder that you hear.  The drops that you feel on your skin. The light that you see flying from the sky. The drops that you hear hitting the landscape. The vibrations that you feel in your deep in your heart. Knowing that it could kill you doesn't even enter my mind when I sit outside in the rain and watch this vehement titan. The wind blows violently, tossing things up and down, from left to right. It howls. The lightning that falls from the sky, maybe starting a fire somewhere or maybe knocking over a tree. It crashes down and lights up the sky. The thunder is my favorite part. When I was little it frightened me. My grandpa told me that it was the angels in heaven bowling or moving furniture. That would make me feel better knowing that it was nothing that would harm me making the noise. Now that I am older and I know the scientific explanation for thunder, I have no reason to be afraid of it. I love it. I love the loud cracking, booming thunder that shakes the entire house or the ground that you are standing on and you feel it deep in your chest, in your heart place. I think that is why I like drums. I can feel it deep in my chest. I love everything about a storm. When people see the damage it can cause, I see the beauty and the cleaning power or such a storm. Then why is it when I go through a "storm" in my life that thunder that is so enticing, becomes scary again. Or why does the lightning become a hazard that can only send trees falling though your roof? Why do I lose that sense of wonder that I had for storms such as this?  And why do I forget that there is something bigger than me that is letting this storm happen and the I forget that through the thunder I can feel that there is something bigger than me out there, holding onto me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LYKa9E1xzao&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LYKa9E1xzao&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6073451046895968851?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6073451046895968851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6073451046895968851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6073451046895968851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6073451046895968851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-it-raining-or-am-i-just-thinking.html' title='Is it raining? Or am I just thinking that?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1333976737099164108</id><published>2009-06-30T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T10:38:08.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Restless</title><content type='html'>Not sleeping. Not knowing. Not seeing. Not hearing. Wanting. Needing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been sleeping well lately. I can't sleep. Its not insomnia because I am tired, I just can't sleep. Sounds kinda like insomnia I suppose, maybe not, I don't know. I get into to bed and lay there. I think. Sometimes I think of important things. Most of the time it is one thought, that most wouldn't give a second thought, that snowballs into a avalanche. I normally write down my thoughts and then move on. Lately I am not sure if these thoughts warrant being written down. They have been written before and writing them again would just seem to be overkill. So I have just let them roll around in my head and they have begun to keep me awake again. So now I have begun to fall asleep when my body is so tired, I pass out. Which causes me to be tired and just gives me a headache. I am not sure what to do but breathe. Which is all I really know how to do anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched a video a day or two ago and it hit me. That maybe all I need to do is just to breathe. Maybe that is all I need to do. Watch the videos and decide for yourself. See what you think. Is it  just enough to breathe and know that He is there right next to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OAP0aoa8FtM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OAP0aoa8FtM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/N-JFDkypxRw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/N-JFDkypxRw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1333976737099164108?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1333976737099164108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1333976737099164108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1333976737099164108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1333976737099164108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/restless.html' title='Restless'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3514448814085753163</id><published>2009-06-24T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T19:39:47.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God is bigger than the boogie man?</title><content type='html'>Leave it to Veggie Tales to drive the point home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been having issues trusting in God. Things, from my point of view, seem to have been getting out of control. I have been looking for a steady job since school got out back in May. There has been nothing. I have applied to so many places, some more than once, and placed so many phone calls or sent so many e-mails, that I have lost all count. I have had some babysitting jobs but only being paid $20 a week is not cutting it. With my car being broken which cost $650 to be fixed (and thanks to God and my parents and my grandparents and myself that I have been able to get it fixed but that took all the money that was supposed to last me for awhile.), $20 a week is not cutting it...but I am grateful for it. I also have to pay off some of my school bill that loans and such didn't cover. So money is short and I have many bills right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am normally a pretty positive person and have no problem trusting that God will take care of me and all that entails. But as of late, its been very hard for me to do that. The control freak in me has been coming out for a visit. I tried so hard to beat down this control freak for a long time, now it is coming back with a vengeance and I am having a hard time just letting go and beating it and not being that way. But tonight as I am baby sitting, I popped in Veggie Tales for the kids to watch. It just so happened to be "Where's God When I'm Scared?" and if you grew up watching Veggie Tales, you know it has the song "God is Bigger Than the Boogie Man" in it. Well, of course that goofy little kid song would drive the point, that God has been trying to make to me for months, home. Of course...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I have noticed that things are getting better. I had a job interview today, I think that I have one Friday and depending on what happens Friday, I will have one on Wednesday. So you know what...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm lying in my bed...&lt;br /&gt;And the furniture starts creaking...&lt;br /&gt;I'll just laugh and say "Hey! Cut that out!" and get back to my sleeping&lt;br /&gt;For I know that God is biggest and He's watching all the while&lt;br /&gt;So when I get scared I'll think of Him and close my eyes and smile&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SkLjTw93ELI/AAAAAAAAAHU/kcB2ZqUUBig/s1600-h/Junior_Asparagus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SkLjTw93ELI/AAAAAAAAAHU/kcB2ZqUUBig/s320/Junior_Asparagus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351089235970953394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause God is bigger than the boogie man&lt;br /&gt;He's bigger than Godzilla and the monsters on TV&lt;br /&gt;OH God is bigger than the boogie man and He's watching out for you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONE MORE TIME!! (repeat as many times as you deem necessary...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;((The sad part about all of this is that I wrote that from memory...yeah...I can quote Veggie Tales from memory...I also know "His Cheeseburger" "Where is My Hairbrush?" "Barbra Matinee" "and "The Water Buffalo Song" by heart....yeah I know...don't judge me....))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3514448814085753163?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3514448814085753163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3514448814085753163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3514448814085753163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3514448814085753163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/god-is-bigger-than-boogie-man.html' title='God is bigger than the boogie man?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SkLjTw93ELI/AAAAAAAAAHU/kcB2ZqUUBig/s72-c/Junior_Asparagus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-731775068642216599</id><published>2009-06-22T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T20:26:48.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jon &amp; Kate +8 -Jon? -Kate? Wait. What?</title><content type='html'>So what prompted this blog? Well, if you must know...Jon &amp;amp; Kate +8. Now I have not been the biggest fan of this show and really just started watching it this past December. I really liked it. I like Kate, I thought that she was just shy of super mom for raising all of those kids. She was a little controlling and a tad OCD but I thought well you kinda have to be with that many kids. You have to want everything to be clean and you have to want to see things get done around the house if you want to have a house and not a pig sty...so I could even get past that. Jon was like the exact opposite of Kate cool, calm and collected. He was her other half...the half she was missing but none the less her other half and they seemed to go great together, they seemed happy. Jon had rumors come out that he was cheating and that was all that really came out and I thought ok, wrong place wrong time, not really what it seems, he wouldn't do that. Then it came out that Kate mas money hungary and crazy and I was like ok maybe she is a little crazy but I am not sure that she is money hungary. Then came this seasons premire and all hell had broken loose while the cameras weren't rolling. If you keep up with the show and all of the gossip crap like I do then you knok all or the stuff that has been said and all the stuff that has come out. And then you found out that all of it is probably true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have some things that I want to say becasue I need to vent...so if you don't want to read my venting and rantings about this show then go no further...I have no problem with all of the cosmetic stuff and the tanning and the teeth whitening and all that crap. John can pierce his ears at 32, I don't care. If they want to do it whatever. Its their lives and if they want to screw up all I can do is pray for them and move on. But here are my ventings....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1. You can say that you do the show for your kids, so that you can provide for them and make sure that they will never have to go without anything ever. But do not say that you are going to get a divorce for your kids. Do not. That is a no. A divorce is never for the kids, it is for yourself because you can't stand the other person that you are with. In my eyes divorce is a selfish act. You are not doing it for anyone but you. The kids do not benefit from it. If anything it hurts them. I think that you should know that this is the person that you are going to marry. You need to know. I know that there is no way to know but you need to say at some point before you get married that this is it. I need to love this person no matter what and it is my choice to love this person daily. But if you have to get a divorce don't tell anyone that it is for your kids. Because it is not. And you know Kate sometimes you have to stop saying that this is for your kids and that this is for me. I think that if you keep saying that this is for your kids over and over and over you sound like you are trying to convince yourself and that you are trying to convince yourself. This is going to be the last thing that I say I think...I saw this coming at the end of last season. The problems were starting then and they were denounced as rumors. I thought that they should have taken a season off. The fans would have been there when they came back if they ever did come back on television. Sometimes you have to take time to make everything about you and your husband and not "for your kids". When you look at a picture close up, all you can see is that small piece of the picture. You can't see the big picture. I really think that they should have taken time off and stepped back from the picture and taken a good look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have said my peace and you can disagree but that is how I look at it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-731775068642216599?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/731775068642216599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=731775068642216599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/731775068642216599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/731775068642216599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/jon-kate-8-jon-kate-wait-what.html' title='Jon &amp; Kate +8 -Jon? -Kate? Wait. What?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4358712904951202800</id><published>2009-06-15T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T19:45:40.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthing Gideon Part 2</title><content type='html'>Before all of this changing stuff started I had become really sarcastic. Not that I am not sarcastic by nature but I had become mean sarcastic. Maybe just flat out mean. Not mean to everyone but I had my moments where I was not who I wanted to be and didn't know that to do. I just fell back into my default and you know I can fake it with the best of them. I can hide it all and act like I am ok and I can fool all the people around me. No one ever knows what it really just below the surface. I have met maybe three people that can see below the surface and one of them is my mom...she grew up with me and she knows me very well. Anyway, I had become this person that I did not want to be and I was unaware how I got there. I didn't want to be there. Then I began to have insane dreams and it was all pulled out from under me and I began to realize things about me and why I was where I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this idea of a broken little girl has been here for a long time. I am not really sure when I realized that all I really am is a broken little girl. But I have been for a long time now. I put on a great front, even to myself. I am not all that I thought I was...well I am all that I thought I was just didn't have it all together like I thought I did and probably a lot of people thought I did. I am weak. I am frail. I am angry. I thought that the anger made me strong and held me up. I was wrong. It made me weaker and drug me down. Like I have said before that anger shattered me and harmed me more than it helped me. My life has not been hard by any means. But when you have daddy issues that gives you a whole new gambit of issues that you discover through the years. Its kinda like getting that sweater at Christmas that you want to return but you can't because it will hurt someone's feelings. I think that is exactly like that actually. You want to work the issues out but that involves hurting someone's feelings. Not to mention yours. You step on their feelings and they step on yours and you do it until the issues are worked out. Only right now I am stepping, no, stomping on my own toes. And it hurts like hell. But you know these issues have to be worked out if I want to heal and not be this broken little girl that I have been for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Not sure that it makes sense but I needed to get this out of my brain...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4358712904951202800?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4358712904951202800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4358712904951202800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4358712904951202800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4358712904951202800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/birthing-gideon-part-2.html' title='Birthing Gideon Part 2'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-101718003720818863</id><published>2009-06-15T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T18:10:32.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/Sjbw6bPBgXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NtbEF_UdGCY/s1600-h/DSC_0199_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/Sjbw6bPBgXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NtbEF_UdGCY/s320/DSC_0199_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347726494082892146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwnPyuG0I/AAAAAAAAAHE/Okca9J8thPE/s1600-h/DSC_1445.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwnPyuG0I/AAAAAAAAAHE/Okca9J8thPE/s320/DSC_1445.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347726164593875778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwgQvGNEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j8flEuFY4c4/s1600-h/DSC_1406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwgQvGNEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/j8flEuFY4c4/s320/DSC_1406.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347726044588028994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwY9OrHxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Sz3VurRJAwk/s1600-h/DSC_1397.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwY9OrHxI/AAAAAAAAAG0/Sz3VurRJAwk/s320/DSC_1397.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347725919092678418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwLr4zFtI/AAAAAAAAAGs/lnajOhWyA94/s1600-h/DSC_0095_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwLr4zFtI/AAAAAAAAAGs/lnajOhWyA94/s320/DSC_0095_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347725691099223762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwARho3WI/AAAAAAAAAGk/tfMcbQ35CjQ/s1600-h/DSC_0059_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbwARho3WI/AAAAAAAAAGk/tfMcbQ35CjQ/s320/DSC_0059_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347725495044201826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-101718003720818863?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/101718003720818863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=101718003720818863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/101718003720818863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/101718003720818863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/Sjbw6bPBgXI/AAAAAAAAAHM/NtbEF_UdGCY/s72-c/DSC_0199_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5550819777288276314</id><published>2009-06-15T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T17:59:12.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthing a Gideon out of a Broken Little Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbuOZVMbtI/AAAAAAAAAGc/YJM9CJU7DUI/s1600-h/1962_29_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbuOZVMbtI/AAAAAAAAAGc/YJM9CJU7DUI/s320/1962_29_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347723538634403538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think that I am beginning to get this whole Gideon thing, I think. I could be be way out in left field somewhere but I have a good feeling about this. I have read and re-read Judges chapters six through eight. I have come to the conclusion that something is going on with me. I almost completely (probably completely) identify with Gideon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In chapter six verse thirteen it says "Gideon says to Him 'O my lord, if the Lord is with us, why then has all this happened to us? And where are all His miracles which our fathers told us about, saying 'Did not the Lord bring us up from Egypt?' But now the Lord has forsaken us and delivered us into the hands of the Midianites.'" I am constantly asking God where he is and maybe he would like to fill me in on some of the things that he is doing at some point. I constantly think well Lord, if aall of this happened why can't you do this one little thing for me? HELLO?? Needless to say He doesn't answer me when we talk like that. Our conversations seem to be a little one sided some times. I do a lot of the talking. I think that He is just waiting for me to get it all out and then we'll come back to it. Just go ahead and vent and get it all out Alyssa and then we can talk. Maybe He was doing the same thing with Gideon when he didn't answer him when he asked the Lord where he had been. He just kinda looks at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It contiunes in verse 25 saying that the Lord tells Gideon to take his fathers second best bull and to pull down the altar to Baal then to rebuild an altar to God in its place. But then use the remains of the altar to Baal to feed the fire for the offering to God. "Ummm...excuse me God but ummm...about that...I can do all that uh but let me go and get about ten people or so to help me with that and the I think that I might take a nap and when I get up and make sure that it is dark outside and then we'll get on that..." Well I more or less think that is how it went. And that is what would have been said if God had appeared to me and asked me to do that. I am not to big on doing things on my own. I like to do things with other people. I like them to help me. But God didn't tell Gideon to go get ten people to help him. God told him to go and tear down the idol on his own. Not gonna lie but, I like my life and I would have done the same exact thing as Gideon did. There is no way I would have gone by myself and torn down an idol that maybe a couple hundred people worship at. There would have been Alyssa for dinner. But if you have ten other people, there are people to back you up in that you did and you can keep on living. God has called me to a country that not many people are called to. No one and I mean no one want s to live in Haiti. You might think that you do but once you get there and are there for a little while, you might not think that this was such a good idea anymore. The electricity only works...well not even half the time more like a forth or the time...maybe not even that. No one really wants to live there. But if you know me you know that I really truly want to. And that is totally a God thing. But if that is where I am supposed to be, I have to be willing to do things on my own and go alone. I have to learn how to lead and to rely on God always. I can not always rely on others to be there with me. Not everyone is cut out to live in Haiti or to even go to Haiti (I am not saying don't go if you want to I am just saying pary...A LOT). I realize now that might be the only one that is called to what I am supposed to do. You think that I sould get that already...I am the obly one that can do what God has called me to do, not the ten people that I want to come with me. I have just now really come to the realization. I have been called to do all of these things that I talk and think about not my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gideon went on to be a great leader. He defeated the Midianites and there was peace under his forty yeah reign. Maybe I can do that but I think that I'll just stick to Haiti...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5550819777288276314?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5550819777288276314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5550819777288276314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5550819777288276314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5550819777288276314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/birthing-gideon-out-of-broken-little.html' title='Birthing a Gideon out of a Broken Little Girl'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SjbuOZVMbtI/AAAAAAAAAGc/YJM9CJU7DUI/s72-c/1962_29_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6217316911224858169</id><published>2009-06-12T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T18:23:32.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A rambling that you really don't need to read</title><content type='html'>Well I seem to ramble a lot and I am not sure if I make sense...I don't really get  a lot of feedback from people (if any) that read my blog. But if you get into a long conversation with me and I start to think and talk at the same time I begin to ramble. When I say think and talk at the same time (I think that this statement needs clarifying, because all people think and talk at the same time...well mostly...), I mean that I begin to think very in depth about what is being said and I begin to voice my thoughts and I begin to ramble. If my thought process could be heard I am not sure that many people would never talk to me. I think how I write and I ramble when I think and I am really not sure how to separate the two...I don't really care either. But if you read my blog and think that I am rambling and not really seeming to resolve anything and I just seem to be confused, fear not! When I ramble that means I am thinking and if I am thinking I resolve things for myself even if the blog does not seem to resolve to any conclusion but just seems to end like more needs to be said. Thats what I feel happens sometimes. I just stop typing and I think about it and have no more to say so I just stop typing . So again I find myself rambling and I am thinking and I am going to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If you read this and thought you should read it and you feel like you have lost a few iq points...I believe that I told you in the title that you didn't need to read it...just sayin...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6217316911224858169?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6217316911224858169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6217316911224858169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6217316911224858169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6217316911224858169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/rambling-that-you-really-dont-need-to.html' title='A rambling that you really don&apos;t need to read'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2771596301708125986</id><published>2009-06-10T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T22:16:46.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blip</title><content type='html'>So the family is here! Yay me!...anyway they are here safe for all of you that care to know. Oh happy day!! I am really excited, if you can't tell. They are going to be here for like a week or so and it is going to be so much fun!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2771596301708125986?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2771596301708125986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2771596301708125986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2771596301708125986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2771596301708125986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/blip.html' title='Blip'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6874677345543403526</id><published>2009-06-08T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T19:42:45.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marketing Mistake?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/Si3MENxcSvI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7y30YVRaQzE/s1600-h/fathershand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/Si3MENxcSvI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7y30YVRaQzE/s320/fathershand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345152705547225842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was thinking of a blog to write or just something to write about. I am not sure why I felt the need to write. Normally if I don't have a topic I just wait till I do or wait until I feel like I do and just ramble. But anyway I got to thinking about a odd topic. I am not sure if it is only odd to me but maybe you find it odd as well. It is something that I have thought about before but never given any serious thought. Well by now you are probably wondering what this topic is. Well here it is: with all the things that pull away children from their fathers in this world, why would God tell us or call himself a father? It just seems funny to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first started thinking about this when I was reading Blue Like Jazz (great book. read it now!) and Donald Miller said it. This is what he says: "My father left home when I was young, so when I was introduced to the concept of God as a father I imagined him as a stiff, oily man who wanted to move into our house and share a bed with my mother. I can only remember this as a frightful and threatening idea. We were a poor family who attended a wealthy church, so I imagined God as a man who had a lot f money and drove a big car. At church they told us we were children of God, but I knew God's family was better than mine, the He had a daughter that was a cheerleader and a son who played football. I was born with a small bladder so I wet the bed till I was ten and later developed a crush on the homecoming queen who was kind to me in a political sort of way, which is something she probably learned from her father, who was the president of a bank. And so from the beginning, the chasm that separated me from God was a deep as wealth and as wide as fashion. ...Today I wonder why it is God refers to himself as 'Father' at all. This, to me, in the light of earthly representation or the role seems a marketing mistake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that it is a marketing mistake. I have...well...not the best relationship with my father. We talk and hang out but it is not really a relationship that goes beyond surface level. My parents divorced when I was three and my dad has been in my life more at some times and less at others. But he has never left completely. Now that I am getting older it is hard to have a relationship with him because he still thinks that I am five. He knows that I am not but he still treats me like it. I find it annoying. I can't stand it really. So thinking of God as my dad has been hard to say the least. I find it hard to do it sometimes because I do, now, think of Him as my father and the one who will always be there for me no matter what, just like a father should. But I still seem to find a hesitation in my heart to give in to that completely. I think that is one of the things that I am supposed to be working on this summer. Maybe that is why I have been pulled away from everything so that I can realize that God is right there. Always will be. No matter what. But getting away from my daddy issues, there are so many other people that go through not being able to be truly close to God because they have bad relationships with their fathers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really not sure where I am going with this. I really think that I am just asking the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you think that God calls Himself a father in a fatherless world? Is it a marketing mistake?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6874677345543403526?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6874677345543403526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6874677345543403526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6874677345543403526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6874677345543403526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/marketing-mistake.html' title='Marketing Mistake?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/Si3MENxcSvI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7y30YVRaQzE/s72-c/fathershand.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5657215152511767785</id><published>2009-06-06T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T17:55:52.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Becoming Gideon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SisRnXaqhgI/AAAAAAAAAGM/-uXKgcFP9oQ/s1600-h/giddy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SisRnXaqhgI/AAAAAAAAAGM/-uXKgcFP9oQ/s320/giddy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344384750803650050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so this whole changing thing is something that I really don't get and I feel like I am falling back into what I used to be. All I really can "sense or feel" of this change is that I am emotionally, mentally and physically drained. I have begun to feel like the cat from Pinocchio. Not the original story but the one from the movie who so happens to be named Gideon. This cat is a moron. He is a mute and he is crafty but most of the time he just does stupid things that the fox "Honest" John tells him to do and he does not do it well. Like when he is supposed to get Pinocchio to play hooky from school...he tries to beat him with a mallet to make him go the right way...really?  He falls all over himself and has the hiccups all the time. Moron. Now I am not a moron and I am obviously not a mute. But when you don't know what to say to anyone for a week straight you begin to feel like a moron. When you don't know how to explain how you are feeling at that moment and it is clear that something is wrong but you can't voice it, you begin to feel like a mute. When someone asks you why you are crying and all you can says is i don't know you begin to feel like a moron because you know perfectly well why you are crying you just become a mute. Changing into something new or finally realizing and becoming what you are supposed to be is hard. You have no idea what is happening to you and you begin to feel like a moron and a mute. You can't comprehend anything and you can't voice anything either. Things just don't seem to make sense and the fact that you have no one close by that you feel comfortable talking to makes things even more difficult. Maybe God is making me rely on Him for once instead of my support system that I keep around me. So I am going to rely on God and trust that this change is for the best but I do not like feeling like a moronic, mute cat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5657215152511767785?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5657215152511767785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5657215152511767785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5657215152511767785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5657215152511767785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/becoming-gideon.html' title='Becoming Gideon'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SisRnXaqhgI/AAAAAAAAAGM/-uXKgcFP9oQ/s72-c/giddy2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1287627811369776868</id><published>2009-06-06T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T14:47:50.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raising a Gideon</title><content type='html'>So I am pretty sure that raising me was no simple task. Shoot my mom an e-mail and ask her if you like. I have been a headstrong and stubborn all of my life. If you know me now you can attest to the fact that I still am and I don't deny it. I have always also been very independent. I have always wanted to do things for myself and know that I can do it by myself, ask my step-dad, he knows all to well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been reevaluating my headstrong, independent, stubborn ways. I believe that I was born that way or maybe I can blame my mother cause she is the same way. I think that I have been reevaluating the independent part more than the other two. I have know that I can do things myself my entire life and don't tell me that I can't do something. I will either prove you wrong or hurt myself trying. Telling me I can't do something is like challenging me. I automatically go "uh-huh...watch me." Good attitude towards some things but not towards others. I think that I have taken it to the point of thinking I can do things without God. If you know me you know that I love God with all my heart and you can see that in my life. I try to do things with God but then just end up doing it on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of late I have been dreaming a lot again. Most people dream about simple things and they don't wake up from their dreams going "What the @$%&amp;amp; was that all about?" And then you try to figure it out and you have to ask someone because God won't let you go Lone Ranger and figure it out on your own. Anyway my dreams are certifiably insane. If people knew half of my dreams they might begin to question my sanity. The other night I had a crazy ass dream and I don't want to go into details but the name Gideon came up. I like that name, I want to name one of my kids that one day. The dream involves me having a baby and his name is Gideon. Well I have asked a couple people about it and  the general consensus is that I am Gideon but I am also myself in the dream (If you want to know about the dream feel free to ask...). Curiosity peeked by this consensus I have been researching about Gideon. Well he was the guy with the fleece...right? He was really much more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gideon was called a mighty man of valor by God. It seems like God is mocking him because Gideon is a poor farmer and his family was the least in the Manasseh. I mean dead last. And he was the youngest and the weakest. God told him that he would deliver Israel from Midian. Well needless to say he was a little ummm how shall I put this...unbelieving. He didn't exactly think that God was with his people anymore and thought that God had forsaken them. I have been reading this study that I printed out and it says that God know that He can and will deliver them, but He is firstly interested that they see what the root cause of their bondage is so that they don't have to keep the cycle of sin and repentance going. And Baal was the problem and so were the Midianites. And to make a long stroy short (if you want the long version, Judges chapters 6-8) he delivers the Israelites from Baal and the Midianites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading this study, I realize that the consensus about my dream is probably true. I can identify with Gideon. He is weak, humble and sometimes fearful of the things that God has called him to do. Aren't we all? But I have ben that way for a long time. I am humble in the fact that I know God is doing things threw me and not the other way around. But the weakness part is hard for me. I know that I am weak but that is one thing I will never admit or never used to. I have found myself in a place that I am not sure how I got here. Just like Gideon I have been asking "God if you are with me then where the hell are you exactly??"  And you know my world has kinda been rocke the last couple of weeks not just with things that hurt but all of the aspects of my life. All of the ways I have been doing things and how I am are being rocked. God hasn't exactly answered my questions, just like he didn't exactly answer Gideon's. I am more or less hearing shut up and wait. And or fear of this getting to long I am going to have to just say that it was not an easy task to raise me and now God is changing me. He is re-raising me to be a Gideon. He is raising me up to do the things that he has called me to do. He had to take all the things that distract me away from me to show me that. God has to sometimes has to do things in a painful way to get you to listen to him. So now I unnderstand this summer a little more I guess and am just going to try to listen and wait....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Again forgive me if I rambled but its my blog...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1287627811369776868?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1287627811369776868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1287627811369776868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1287627811369776868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1287627811369776868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/raising-gideon.html' title='Raising a Gideon'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1434785088019616441</id><published>2009-06-03T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T12:45:56.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling Apart fo Forgiveness</title><content type='html'>Forgiveness. You here about it all the time. Seemingly from everyone all around you. They say that it is something that needs to be done all the time. God forgives us daily of all the things that we do and we should forgive others of there trespasses against us or something like that. I have been told that if people would forgive each other, that could solve a lot of problems. Now I am not saying that it couldn't but it is easier said than done and I am not going to get into some debate on my blog about it either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness is easier said then done. I have heard all the talk, you know that since I listed it above...haha...anyway, for me it has always been easier said than done. I am not one that is quick to forgive. Never have been and never thought that I would be. I say that I forgive people but then I tend to hold onto it and hide the fact that I do. Not just for a little while but for a long ass time. I hold onto things until it is too hard to forgive and by that time it is to late because it has become a part of me and to let go of it would hurt me in some way more than the original act, that caused the anger, did. Its not the act that I hold onto but the anger that has been given to me by the act. That anger has made me strong and to let go of it is going to make me weak. I have had issuse with being weak. I don't like to feel that way, helpless. That is why I tend to hold onto anger about little, stupid, pointless things. For me unforgiveness has made me selfish. I hold onto the anger to "help" me and to make myself stronger and I don't care who I hurt in the process. I am not sure why I thought that anger made me strong. I said that letting go of the anger would hurt me more than it would help me, which means that it has really been hurting me all along. All the people over my life that have hurt me are nothing compared to the hurt that I have done myself by hanging onto all the anger that I have. It has taken me seventeen years to figure that out. I believe that seventeen years ago is when all my anger issues started. How can that be Alyssa, you were three?? If you know me you would know that my parents got divorced when I was three. Even though I was little and didn't understand what was going on around me, anger crept in and was waiting for me. I have been angry at my dad for leaving all my life and I have been angry at my mom to some degree and I was mad at my step-dad for coming in and closing the door for my dad to ever come back, I was just mad at the world. But to what end is that going to fix anything? It only stresses realationships and makes things difficult and hurts all the parties involved. I have had anger issuses all of my life and have learned how to keep them under control but, I don't just want them to be under control anymore, I want them to go away. Far away. I said that unforgiveness is what has lead me to be angry. Holding onto that anger has made me strong. The truth is that anger has made me weak and crippled me to the point of thinking that I can't let it go without falling apart. It has given me a hard heart that now has beome to heavy to carry anymore. I have to forgive my dad for leaving, I have to forgive my mom for whatever it was that she did in the first place to make me angry, and I have to forgive my step-dad for not doing really anything. I have to forgive all the hurt in my life if I want to move on with my life. And maybe I need to fall apart since I seem like I have everything together. Maybe making a new foundation is better than filling in the cracks with something that is only going to sent them deeper and make them wider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things that have recently happened to me have taught me this. I thought that it was stupid to forgive things quickly, only becasue I never have. I am trying to understand how I am able to be quick to forgive but have to say that I really don't becasue I never have really forgiven many things in my life. I mean I have but only after many years and through lots of prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't harden your heart.&lt;br /&gt;I won't because a hard heart is to heavy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Forgive me if I rambled, I write how I think and I tend to ramble to myself a lot...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1434785088019616441?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1434785088019616441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1434785088019616441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1434785088019616441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1434785088019616441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/falling-apart-fo-forgiveness.html' title='Falling Apart fo Forgiveness'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4689462065911491508</id><published>2009-06-01T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T09:35:56.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Use Somebody - Kings of Leon (you should check them out...just sayin)</title><content type='html'>i've been roaming around&lt;br /&gt;always looking down at all i see&lt;br /&gt;painted faces fill the places i can't reach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know that i could use somebody&lt;br /&gt;you know that i could use somebody&lt;br /&gt;someone like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and all you know&lt;br /&gt;and how you speak&lt;br /&gt;countless lovers undercover of the street&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know that i could use somebody&lt;br /&gt;you know that i could use somebody&lt;br /&gt;someone like you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;off in the night,&lt;br /&gt;while you live it up, i'm off to sleep&lt;br /&gt;waging war to shake the poet and the beat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope it's gonna make you notice&lt;br /&gt;i hope it's gonna make you notice&lt;br /&gt;someone like me&lt;br /&gt;someone like me&lt;br /&gt;someone like me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go and let it out&lt;br /&gt;someone like you&lt;br /&gt;somebody&lt;br /&gt;someone like you&lt;br /&gt;somebody&lt;br /&gt;someone like you&lt;br /&gt;somebody&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been roaming around&lt;br /&gt;always looking down at all i see         &lt;!--ringtones and media links --&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4689462065911491508?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4689462065911491508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4689462065911491508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4689462065911491508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4689462065911491508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/06/use-somebody-kings-of-leon-you-should.html' title='Use Somebody - Kings of Leon (you should check them out...just sayin)'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2283438428332349215</id><published>2009-05-31T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T20:20:11.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitleable</title><content type='html'>Forget what you have seen and forget what you have heard. Things can fall out from under you and change the course of everything. Causing you to fall and hit the ground that you forgot was there. You crash you burn. You don't feel like yourself because you have changed so radically while you were up wherever you fell from. Nothing seems the same. There is a part of you that was brought out by this radical change that you want deeply to embrace. But is hard to embrace that change when you can't seem to find that thing or that side of you that comes out of you, when you can't seem to find where you keep that part of you. You keep it somewhere, where no one could find it. But incidentally you can't seem to find it either after it has been hidden. You begin to realize that you need someone else to help you find that part of you that you long so deeply to embrace. You are not sure why it is hidden to where you can't find it alone but maybe it has something to do with being hurt in the past. Being hurt makes you hide things so that you can't even find them because you don't want people to see that so they can't hurt you again or so no one else can hurt that part of you. You want to make yourself invulnerable. I think it makes you do that, hide things very well that is, because you want that person to come along that is willing to help you find those things and is honestly surprised that those things, about you, are there. But then you are stuck hiding and waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2283438428332349215?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2283438428332349215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2283438428332349215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2283438428332349215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2283438428332349215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/untitleable.html' title='Untitleable'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6097146872339686988</id><published>2009-05-28T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T07:49:56.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...and thats the problem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I hate the way you talk to me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the way I listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way you drive me crazy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you stare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate your dumb black dress shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the way you can read my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate you so much it makes me crazy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it even makes me rhyme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way I always know your right,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you make me laugh,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even worse when you make me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you're not around,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the fact that you didn't call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not even close,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not even a little bit,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not even at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;...and thats the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--Lyrics End--&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6097146872339686988?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6097146872339686988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6097146872339686988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6097146872339686988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6097146872339686988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/and-thats-problem.html' title='...and thats the problem'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-927886694984158065</id><published>2009-05-25T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T13:47:42.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My newest video...God's Plumbline Promotion...haha</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-25d4aceec1c332b6" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D25d4aceec1c332b6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330353214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1D90AB258CBB0D25A61BB06364B88A066D5AF3B2.4ECACA8DE2198B352D17CD5B4261D27D1E6A98F2%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D25d4aceec1c332b6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DfnMy-Te_XS7IvKW9sr94fp22ptE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D25d4aceec1c332b6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330353214%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1D90AB258CBB0D25A61BB06364B88A066D5AF3B2.4ECACA8DE2198B352D17CD5B4261D27D1E6A98F2%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D25d4aceec1c332b6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DfnMy-Te_XS7IvKW9sr94fp22ptE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-927886694984158065?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=25d4aceec1c332b6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/927886694984158065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=927886694984158065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/927886694984158065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/927886694984158065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-newest-videogods-plumbline.html' title='My newest video...God&apos;s Plumbline Promotion...haha'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2084244369833788434</id><published>2009-05-25T11:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T13:32:58.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Lord Baby Jesus...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So I have learned as of late that things get hard when you aren't praying or reading your bible. Thigs creep in that you didn't realize were there. I seem to become a little paranoid about some things. I begin to think that God doesn't hear what I say. That he doesn't see me when I cry. That he doesn't feel it when I hurt. That he doesn't care to hear me, care to wipe away my tears and that he doesn't care that I hurt. Well coming off of feeling that way you realize that God is dealing with something inside of you that you have repressed. Thats that conclusion that I have come to anyway. I have so many things that I have repressed and made go away. They really didn't go away. They just sat there and got bigger and meaner and they are ready when I am weak. They rear their ugly heads when I have stopped reading my Bible and spending time with God. They know that if they hit me then that I will not be ready and they can hurt me. And let me tell you they hit you where you are insecure. There are a couple of things in my life right now that I am feeling insecure about. I am sure it is mainly due to lack of good communication but I am not sure and that is where they hit me. My doubt. Making me assume the worst about the good things in my life. The great and wonderful things that have happened to me as of late. There is something that doesn't want me to do these things. Considering that I need my car to do them, my car has been temporarialy put out of order. First I got in a accident...easily fixed. Thanks pop!! Then yesterday my transmission began to slip and has been for awhile apparently. Without a car, I can't work. Without a car, I can't go anywhere. Well I flipped yesterday. I cried harder than I have cried in a long time and just needed someone to hug me and hold me and tell me that it was going to be ok. Of course anyone that would do that for me happens to not be in this country right now. But I really love my mommy so I called her yesterday and told her what happened and she told me that she would have my step-dad call and put the inssurance on their car so that I can use it until they get here. I know right!! I really love my mom. She is pretty great. Now I can work and go do the things that i want to do!! I was so happy and I cried even harder. But there are still other things that need to be taken care of and I intend to do that but while I am reading my bible and walking with God. Cause we all know that I trip a lot over flat surfaces but without him I would fall flat on my face every time I tripped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2084244369833788434?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2084244369833788434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2084244369833788434' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2084244369833788434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2084244369833788434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-lord-baby-jesus.html' title='Dear Lord Baby Jesus...'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5000907699745515107</id><published>2009-05-23T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T19:25:05.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Road To Hell Is Paved With The Best Intentions</title><content type='html'>Picture a man that is well spoken, charismatic and well liked by the people around him. He is a well educated and has traveled the world. He can speak English, Italian, Hebrew and Spanish perfectly. When he speaks to people they hear him and understand what he is saying and his message is social change and he says that they people have the tools to make this change. He works with street children and has a boys home called Family is Life. He takes the boys in and gives them a place to live. Because of these great things, there was an assassination attempt on his life. The people around him built up an iron wall to protect this man that was so important to the people. He went into hiding and even as he hid he was the loudest voice that the people could hear. This man was also a catholic priest. He had his sermons broadcast all over the radio and to find his church all you had to do was follow the crowd. He is quoted as saying "The solution is revolution, first in the spirit of the Gospel; Jesus could not accept people going hungry. It is a conflict between classes, rich and poor. My role is to preach and organize....". This man really wanted a change to come about. The Catholic church chastised him for such a message. Saying that it incited violence. But in his church he represented the voice of the poor man, the oppressed man that had never had such a voice before. He was the popular voice. Elections came around and this man entered the race. The people were so excited that you could have plugged your blender in and made a smoothie there was so much electricity emanating from them. Even the people who were usually disinterested in the elections turned upside down in their excitement. He named his campaign the flood, the avalanche, the torrent of unity. He was humble and denied wanting the presidency unless it was what the people wanted. He won with 67% of the vote, so he must have been what the people wanted. Four years after he was elected he left the priesthood. But we are getting ahead in the story. A little over seven months after he was elected president there was a coup. Our man went into exile in Venezuela and then in the United States. In 1994, with the help of the United States he returned to his country and served the rest of his term in office. His disbanded the army and established a civilian police force. His first term ended in February two years later, and the constitution did not allow him to serve consecutive terms. There was some dispute over whether he should be allowed to serve the three years he had lost in exile prior to new elections, or whether his term in office should instead be counted strictly according to the date of his inauguration; it was decided that the latter should be the case.  He did not serve the years he had missed in exile. But it was not over for him. He again became president. Then after he had been in office again for three years there was another coup and he was forced into exile again. This time going to Jamaica and South Africa.  He has remained in South Africa ever since. There was a glimmer of hope that he would return when an ally of his was elected president but due to extenuating circumstances there has been no time table set for his return to his country. About this election of his ally he is quoted as saying "a selection in which the knife of treason was planted in the back of the people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This man we have been talking about is named Jean Bertrand Aristide leader of The Lavalas Party in Haiti. He was a man that was seen to be the savior of Haiti. A man that could really turn the country around. He worked with street children and was a memeber of the Catholic priesthood. How could he do anything but good? He was ousted three times. He served from February 7, 1991 – September 30, 1991 and then October 12, 1994 – February 7, 1996 an then his final term was February 7, 2001 – February 29, 2004. The last time he was ousted he was in the city of Gonaievs rededicating the nation back to Voodoo. He was almost killed due to the uprising of people that wanted him gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/ShivypOXgXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/D_6lc3xS9po/s1600-h/haiti-aristide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/ShivypOXgXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/D_6lc3xS9po/s320/haiti-aristide.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339210642842157426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5000907699745515107?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5000907699745515107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5000907699745515107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5000907699745515107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5000907699745515107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/road-to-hell-is-paved-with-best.html' title='The Road To Hell Is Paved With The Best Intentions'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/ShivypOXgXI/AAAAAAAAAGE/D_6lc3xS9po/s72-c/haiti-aristide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3878383237662955211</id><published>2009-05-19T18:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T19:00:20.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday To Me!!</title><content type='html'>So I am now 20 years old. Its not really all that different than being 19 but I am not a teenager anymore so that is weird. It is a little weird not being a teenager considering that I have been one for 6 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to go to dinner at Carabba's for dinner tonight and tomorrow I get to go to Outback...yay me!! I got a external hard drive so that I can back up my computer so that if (prays to God not) my computer's hard drive fails again or something else happens to it I can have all of my stuff on a seperate hard drive. And I can have a crazy amount of pictures on it and music! I got a pair of Toms shoes and a new Haiti bag and a Haiti shirt. So good times. And my grandma is making me a chocolate cake with cool whip frosting and strawberries...my favorite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had a good and am having/had a good birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday To Me, Happy Birthday To Me!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3878383237662955211?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3878383237662955211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3878383237662955211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3878383237662955211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3878383237662955211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday To Me!!'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4885920139707225073</id><published>2009-05-17T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T18:45:11.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/ShC5ZdCrb-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/v7e1KIj7Pj4/s1600-h/n674687506_1674245_201190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/ShC5ZdCrb-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/v7e1KIj7Pj4/s320/n674687506_1674245_201190.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336969405377769442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is a person such as a mother so important on the life of a child? That is an excellent question considering that 9 times out of 10 they seem to be a problem. They get in the way of what you want to do and what you think you should do. They tell you things like clean your room and get your crap out of the living room or get your crap out of the middle of the floor. You do it but you are thinking "One of these days...I'm not sure but one of these days!" and that is as far as you ever get because no matter how old you get your mother can still beat you in a fight. No matter how big you may get and how small she may stay...you will lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that we take mothers for granted. I think that traveling around Haiti has made me see that. You may say that I am wrong and that fathers are taken for granted and they are but that is not what I am talking about. Your mother is the one that cares for you and makes sure that you are up in the morning and throws a fit when your hair bow won't stay in your hair at the age of 3 and they blog about the fact that you now have a boyfriend (what do you mean your mother's never done that last one? That's not a normal thing??). She is also the one that makes sure you are fed at the right times and the one that makes sure you are continuing to eat once you leave for college. She is the one that has mini meltdowns when she can't talk to you for two months because your computer is broken. In Haiti I am not sure that mothers do any of that. They birth you and then form there I think that you might be on your own. There are a few that keep up with you for the rest of your life and try to do there best to raise you with what they have but the reality is that most of the mothers are single and there is no one else to take care of the kids so they are left at home alone or with a brother or sister while mom goes out to make money. Family is not a big deal in Haiti. You have relatives but not family like we think of it. We have sit down dinners and we talk and we all live together as a family. Not so much in Haiti. You mom and your sister may live here while you dad and your two brothers live there and then you live up over there. We all live together. Mom, Dad, brothers and sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think that I realized how much I took my mother for granted until she wasn't here last year for my birthday. That was the first time she hadn't been around for my birthday in 18 years. She had been there for every single one. I didn't get to talk to her for maybe more than five minutes, maybe. Its not that I didn't appreciate all that she did for me all the time it was just that I never realized how much I really loved my mother and how much I missed her and how much she really meant to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my birthday being in 2 days I am without my mother again. And I swear if Skype messes up on Tuesday there are going to be some serious problems and I might have to punch something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Early Birthday to ME!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4885920139707225073?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4885920139707225073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4885920139707225073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4885920139707225073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4885920139707225073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers.html' title='Mothers'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/ShC5ZdCrb-I/AAAAAAAAAFs/v7e1KIj7Pj4/s72-c/n674687506_1674245_201190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4323296854618030792</id><published>2009-05-12T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T20:32:53.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making My Mother Cry</title><content type='html'>So normally this has bad connotations. When you make your mother cry, you normally have done something really bad. Well that is not so with my mother. She doesn't cry when you do something really bad, she gets angry. But that is not what I am talking about...no need to go there. My mother seems to cry about the dumbest things. She cries when you graduate form high school, she cries when she you get her a sappy card, she cries when she misses you play softball...I know. Needless to say she cries a lot. But the good part about that is that you know when you got her a good gift. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is really funny when I make my mother cry (not that its funny to watch her cry...falling is another story...another inherited trait, form my mother...). I should expect it when I get her presents or do something that is sappy or sentimental but I don't. So everytime I make her cry its more like oh brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not sure why she randomly cries some days but I think that I have inherited this...thing. I seem to cry a lot lately. I cry when I think about Haiti...normal. I have started to cry about random things like sappy cards...I never cry about sappy cards. Yeah...never say never. I learned that a long time ago but I didn't think that rule applied to turning into my mother. It apparently does. Don't get me wrong, I would love to be everything that my mother is...but the fact that I am turning into my mother is really funny to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway...Happy Belated Mothers Day my wonderful crying mother...haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4323296854618030792?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4323296854618030792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4323296854618030792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4323296854618030792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4323296854618030792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/making-my-mother-cry.html' title='Making My Mother Cry'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3073707546779431092</id><published>2009-05-06T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T20:34:56.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What its like to have your iPod mock you</title><content type='html'>So if you know me at all you would know that I really don't miss people. But when I do miss people say like my mom I really miss them. I don't normally miss my mom all the time but I have my days. I get a tad pitiful and sad. Its like I am 5 again and my mom is at work and not with me but I am going to be 20 soon and she is in Haiti...anyway today was one of those days but I realized that I am going to miss Scott a lot. I hate this. When I miss someone I want nothing more than to be with them and just see their face. But I can't and that makes me sad and pitiful. My iPod likes to point out this fact or atleast while I was driving down to ATL it did. It played song after song that made me think about Scott and how much I am going to miss him this summer and I kept looking at it and saying REALLY! It was bad, I think that it is going to be banned from playing music for awhile. Then to top it all off after it was done mocking the fact that I am going to miss Scott it began to mock the fact that I am going to miss all of my other friends too...needless to say my iPod and I are not on speaking terms right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3073707546779431092?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3073707546779431092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3073707546779431092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3073707546779431092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3073707546779431092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-its-like-to-have-your-ipod-mock.html' title='What its like to have your iPod mock you'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-405651520399064120</id><published>2009-04-29T22:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T22:39:52.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lamou vire tet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love turns your head around&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only love could provoke such a statement like this one. What else could turn your head around? Noise? You look to see where the noise came form or what made the noise but I think that this goes deeper than that. It says turn your head around not just turn your head. Love can pull you out of all sorts of things. Love can conquer fear and hate. Inconvience and anger. Love changes the way that you see and the way that you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love can show an orphan the world before them. That there is more to life than rejection and abandonment. Love can teach a mother how to care for her children in a way that she never understood. It can also show her that those that took the time to teach her this new way of caring, love her more than she could imagine. In turn that woman can turn the teachers head around and give her or show her what her purpose in life really, truly is. Giving her the tools in life to change another woman's or orphan's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is not always what we think that it is. It could be a random act of kindness performed on the street by a passing stranger. Especially when they don't think that anyone, let alone you, will stop to help them. It could also be a photographer taking a picture of a boy in the street and then, being so moved by the sight of him that, she goes back home and tells the story, his story, to everyone she knows or sees. She may not even know the boys name or see him again but she has his picture and she can show them because that boy in the street turned her head around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that turning your head around has more to do with the way you think and changing the way that you think. It's a Haitian saying so that could be completely wrong. Anyway thats what I think. Saying that love is the thing that turns your head around makes sense, considering that love is a very powerful emotion. It's [love] one of those things that you have to choose to do. The choice is what gives it its power becasue you have the other choice to walk away from it. When you choose love, you have to change the way that you have been thinking. Being in love or loving something and being negative and negative thinking normally don't go together. I say that but again I could be totally wrong. But I don't think that I am. Love is a positive emotion. When you are in love you feel better about yourself and the things around you. The day is better and nothing could gop wrong. Compared to when you and love really aren't on speaking terms and you hate the way that you look and it seems to rain all the time. Do you see what I mean about the positve thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love however is not an easy emotion to deal or to get along with. It tends to break your heart and if that wasn't bad enough it feels the need to rip it [your heart] out of your chest and run a dagger through it and twist. But your heart doesn't just break when you fall out of or lose love. It breaks [your heart] when you see a mother that is not able to feed her children. When you see a boy on the street that is sent out into a busy street to beg for money just to have someone meaner and bigger than he is take it away from him and then send him back out. It breaks when you have to teach a fifteen year old girl basic kindergarten principles becasue people thought that her time would be better spent cleaning up after them. Indeed lamou vire tet. Turns it around so far that you can't think straight and all you want is for those things to be fixed so they won't cry anymore. But you can't and your heart shatters again and again and again and again and each time it shatters it hurts more and more and more and it doesn't help that love is doing the shattering either. How do you stop that? I can't tell you. I can't stop it. Indeed love turns your head around and I can't stop it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-405651520399064120?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/405651520399064120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=405651520399064120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/405651520399064120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/405651520399064120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/04/lamou-vire-tet-love-turns-your-head.html' title=''/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5793863926622206218</id><published>2009-04-28T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T22:40:44.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections?</title><content type='html'>As the semester draws to a close I have some time to reflect. On what...that is an excellent question. So much has happened. I have done well in my classes which is always good. Normally I come up with a sarcastic list of what I have figured out or learned but there are not many things that I have learned or that I remember learning... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;New developments in my life include such things as I am about halfway finished with college, I am going to be turning 20 and I have a boyfriend. I would like to reflect on that last for a second (hahahaha). I haven't had a boyfriend in awhile. It has been at least three years, which is not surprising with my history with guys. I tend to pick the jerks, which is putting it nicely. But Scott is different. He is wonderful actually. He is definitely not the normal everyday guy that I pick. He is really great. He really is great and I like him a lot. There is a lot more said in those statements than you may think. I don't want to say much more about it on here but I just thought that those of you that read and keep up with me would like to know. I am not really sure why I don't want to say more about it on here but I am very happy and maybe there are some other feelings that I am not fully aware of yet...anyway I am going to be 20! No longer a teenager! My mother would like to ignore this fact. I told her that if she chooses to do so it will come as a great shock to her when I turn 21. She said no. She will just ignore that one as well...ok. College is just another word for school. So not much to say there. School is school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life in general has been good. I am happy, truly happy, where I am at . which has not been true for a long time. But as they say "Lamou vire tet" (for those of you that read creole...for the rest of you have fun translating...) But it really does. (the translation may need some help because it is not literal...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5793863926622206218?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5793863926622206218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5793863926622206218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5793863926622206218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5793863926622206218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/04/lamou-vire-tet.html' title='Reflections?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-7421478409612854113</id><published>2009-04-19T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T16:35:19.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Range</title><content type='html'>I never realized before how dynamic emotions can be. I used to hide them deep down somewhere and then when they were called upon, they were faked. Never the real ones. Showing those you can get hurt. I somehow decided, one day, that I was not going to have emotions or at least not real ones. Getting out of that habit is hard. When it is well practiced it is easy to fall back into. Especially with the people that have hurt you but that you are required to interact with. I was guilty of faking my emotions last month. Its a safety net, a comfort zone. Not one I am proud of but its there. Learning how to have real emotions again has been hard. It is only something that has come about in the last year or so. I have been practicing real emotion. I fear that I am faking it sometimes though. New situations, I fear I am faking it. I am sure that I am not though, but am I? I think that this is real and I pray that this is real. But old habits die hard. Harder than one might think. God has to remind me that my emotions are real because he is real in my life. I am not faking that. I have learned, through God, that my emotions are not fake. New situations, not meant to hurt you. Meant to help me  grow.  Meant to help me change in a good way. Not meant to hurt me, not meant to fake. I fear that I am though. I know I am not though. Statements that can't be true at the same time but somehow are. Right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God reminds me that this all is a learning experience, this life. He reminds me everyday. He has to. I am not good with learning, when change and the unknown is involved. I really don't like the unknown. The known is safe and well known. But the unknown becomes known so I have to be willing to learn. This learning experience called life should be a dynamic and emotional adventure not just one that I sit by and pretend that I is emotional. I don't want to pretend. I don't want to fake it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have these emotions for a reason and they are wonderful. I have learned that much. God keep me in check with my emotions and help me not to fake it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I am getting a tad to introspective for myself and I find that annoying....so this is a good place to stop....)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-7421478409612854113?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/7421478409612854113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=7421478409612854113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7421478409612854113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7421478409612854113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/04/range.html' title='Range'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5008841640344374474</id><published>2009-03-30T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T19:46:31.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Windows to the Soul</title><content type='html'>Eyes are the window to the soul.&lt;br /&gt;They show our emotion.&lt;br /&gt;They show when we lie.&lt;br /&gt;They show when we cry.&lt;br /&gt;I hide behind these eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Drawing the curtains when people get to close.&lt;br /&gt;Closing the shutters when they try to pry.&lt;br /&gt;I hide behind these windows.&lt;br /&gt;I cry behind these windows.&lt;br /&gt;These eyes of blue and green.&lt;br /&gt;These pools that have been called beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;They may be beautiful but the shutters are closed hiding the sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Hiding the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes are the window to the soul.&lt;br /&gt;They show our emotion.&lt;br /&gt;They show when are happy.&lt;br /&gt;They show when we are blissful.&lt;br /&gt;I try to hide behind these eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to draw the curtains when people get to close.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to close the sutters when they pry.&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to hide anymore.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes reveal it all.&lt;br /&gt;They show my emotion.&lt;br /&gt;They show when I cry.&lt;br /&gt;I used to be so good at hiding behind these eyes.&lt;br /&gt;It seems that I can't anymore.&lt;br /&gt;It seems that I don't want to anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes are the windows to the soul.&lt;br /&gt;They show our emotion.&lt;br /&gt;They show when I am happy.&lt;br /&gt;They show when I am sad.&lt;br /&gt;I can't find the curtains when people get to close.&lt;br /&gt;I can't find the shutters when people try to pry.&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to hide anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened to me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5008841640344374474?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5008841640344374474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5008841640344374474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5008841640344374474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5008841640344374474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/03/windows-to-soul.html' title='Windows to the Soul'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-7067171237969036501</id><published>2009-03-17T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T21:56:20.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart As A Room</title><content type='html'>If you really want to know then read on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is dark in here. At least I think it is. Maybe there are just so many walls and boundaries outside that they choke out any light that would dare to venture past them. Music is always playing in here. It varies from day to day, maybe hour to hour but, it never shuts off. It moves me. Most days I can't seem to find a light switch. If I could, I am not sure that I would want to see what was or is in here. I carry and hold so much in this small room that I would need several u-hauls to get it all out. Not several small ones but several big ones. One day as I was fumbling around in the dark, I found the light switch. Right by the door where it always has been. It has never moved so, its not that I couldn't find it. Most days I just don't want to find it. Finding it would require me to deal with the mess inside. Some days I try to clean but by end up with a bigger mess than the one that I started with. Not sure how that happens but it always seems to. The walls are black. Which is not all that unusual. A fire may have swept through here once turning the walls black. That was a long time ago. Now there is just a small candle in the corner. It could still start a fire. No one ever told me how to sustain the initial one so it burnt me out. It was supposed to cleanse but unintentionally left a bigger mess. The candle could still start a fire. It just needs some help. Maybe I'll knock it over when I am ready. There is a man in my room. He is dressed ok. Nothing spectacular but mostly white. I want his sandals. They are pretty cool. He can clearly see that this place is a mess. "It looks like you could use some help?". He walks up to one of the walls and wipes some of the soot and ash away with his hand. "The walls are still good...crazily colored but good." He looks at me and smiles. I am not sure if I can ask this man for help. It is my mess. I should clean it up. Not Him. But he seems persistent about helping. He shows no sign of leaving like the others did. Well they really didn't give any warning. They were just gone one day, leaving holes in the walls. I can see them now that the walls have been wiped down some. I think that this man has been here for a long time. I think that he will stay for much longer. This place is begining to look better. Some of the smaller holes have been patched. It is going to take a little longer for the bigger ones to be patched. They might have to stop hurting first. This man seems to be really good at putting things back where they belong. I know that I never could have. It would have taken a lifetime for me to do it alone. It never would have been done. I am not good at things like that. Things are still a mess in here. There seems to be a method to the madness now though. Some sort of half assed organization is what I can see. There have been additions made to the room over the years. Things that have caused some of the holes to reopen. But in a good way. I thikn that we may have been able to bring a wall or two down around the outsidebut there are so many that it is hard to tell. They have been inspected as of late and we both can see that they were built on cracking foundations or none at all. This cleaning process thing must be one heck of an ongoing process, because it goes very slow and takes a lot of time. I don't mind so much any more though. If it had been fast I am not sure that I would have heald properly in the right areas. As long as this man that has become my friend, my best friend, doesn't leave I think that I can do this and one day this room will be as good as new. Maybe even better. I think that this man has made this room his home. There was a bed under all of the junk. We got rid of the junk that was on the bed. We went through it and decided that I didn't need most of it. There is still a lot that needs to be sifted through. I probably don't need half of it. I should just get rid of it, but He assures me that it needs to be gone through and worked out so it doesn't come back. I have decided to agree. More than half will be gone, now that I think about it. Anyway at least he has a plave to rest now. There is one wall that no matter how many times you wipe the soot and ash away it is always there. Always. When he touches it a white had appears on the wall. Whwn I touch it my hand just gets dirty. It seems that he wipes the wall clean daily. It then becomes clean but by days end it tends to be spotted or completely black again. Sometimes the black seeps into the other walls but, he takes care of that. I like having him around. He can do the things that I can't. Could never do. He tells me that he loves me all of the time. Not in the superficial way that other people seem to do but in a way that makes me tear up adn cry because I know that he means it. And I love him too. More and more each day. I always will. I wish that more guys outside of this room were like him or at least tried to be like him. His love makes me feel like no man will ever be good enough. For He is truly, madly, deeply in love with me. That is why he helps me me clean up my mess of a life. It is really only a room that can be cleaned by him. I could never do it alone. Let alone do it at all. He is happy to help because I chose him and he has always chosen me. No matter what I have done, did, will do, he will never unchoose me. No matter how big my mess gets. There is a map in my room. Red pins indicating where I want to go are all over this map. I don't think that I put them there. I don't remember placing them there. So He must have. Helpful. I know that he will take me to most if not all of these places. When you ask...I don't know. In due time. He will.He promised me a long time ago that he would. The world will one day be my plyground thnks to Him. And I am thankful. We have put many pictures on the walls and they almost cover every empty space on the walls. we have gone to these places together but they are pictures of me and kids that I was only able to meet becasue of him. He has placed in me a love for people even though most days I can't stand people. They are my greatest cause. Always will be. He told me so. I am not sure that he ever leaves this room. That is ok. He keeps me warm and I can always coem and talk to him when I am upset and no one else wants to talk. I like him here. He really listens to me adn I love him for that. This was supposed to be about my room/heart but I guess that without him my room would be dark and odd. No light and not just because of the walls. He makes my room what it is and me what I am. "The walls are good despite all of the hits that they have taken...yes the walls are still good. Interesting choice of paint color.". He makes me laugh and he makes my cry but never in a bad way. He really picked the color for the paint even though he will take no or little credit for it. I am just the creation. The paint was already there when I found out that there was a room in my heart. Some time ago he found another room in my heart. I think that he built it, him being a carpenter and all. He has told me who and what it is for. " Not for your overflow of junk." It is apparently for someone that will coem into my life and occupy a place in my heart just like he does. Maybe my heart is becoming a house with many rooms. Whatever it is, it is an ongoing process and it will never stop as long as the man in the white outfit and awsome sandals has anything to do with my life. So this may have several ammendments whether they are written down or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-7067171237969036501?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/7067171237969036501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=7067171237969036501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7067171237969036501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7067171237969036501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-heart-as-room.html' title='My Heart As A Room'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4002879015054273773</id><published>2009-02-24T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T12:45:38.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ted Dekker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaRcVjHpvGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/yz-rMqi2_5g/s1600-h/DSC_0081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaRcVjHpvGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/yz-rMqi2_5g/s320/DSC_0081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306467786223631458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats right we met Ted Dekker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be jealous!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaRb5j-WnKI/AAAAAAAAAFU/d__jCA73t08/s1600-h/DSC_0094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 129px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaRb5j-WnKI/AAAAAAAAAFU/d__jCA73t08/s320/DSC_0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306467305416727714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4002879015054273773?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4002879015054273773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4002879015054273773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4002879015054273773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4002879015054273773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/02/ted-dekker.html' title='Ted Dekker'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaRcVjHpvGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/yz-rMqi2_5g/s72-c/DSC_0081.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-7895914199309243843</id><published>2009-02-22T14:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T14:43:47.972-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Worn</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaHVEKzAl-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/PDBpyNW3ZcE/s1600-h/DSC_0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaHVEKzAl-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/PDBpyNW3ZcE/s320/DSC_0009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305756103613650914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may say that these sandals are broken. That they need to go into the trash. I would say to you that they are not broken. That they do not belong in the trash. They are just well worn. They are still wearable and useable as shoes. I should know I wear them everyday. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bible verses that are on them do not hold them together. They are just things that I try to live by as I walk on this earth. I made a corny joke one time and told my mom that I was walking in or on my destiny. The verses are Luke 7:47 "Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little." and Romans 10:15 "And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written: How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace, who brings glad tidings of good things."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that these verses apply to my life a lot. Romans 10:15 the most. Before this verse it says "how shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?" (verse 14). I am not claiming that I am a preacher but how will people know about God unless I go and tell them. If you have seen my shoes most of them bear scripture that talk about feet. They are shoes after all. Anyway feet how you get to a place. Well you might have to take a plane, a boat, a car, or a train but your feet will carry you the rest of the way. How else do you get to a place without walking? I walk all over Haiti and I see the people. They have not believed, but they probably have heard. Do they believe it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going back to the point of this blog, I was talking about my sandals. They are not so much broken just well worn. Haiti is also said to be broken. But as I came to the realization that my shoes are not broken just well worn, the same can be said for Haiti. It may look broken but it is not so much broken as it is well worn. People have been there for hundreds of years "wearing" it. The sole of it has become worn out and the leather is starting to get holes in it just like my sandals. It looks and feels as if it is falling apart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can ask "If it is not broken, how can it be fixed? It has to be broken to be fixed." Well I have an answer for you. What do you do with a shoe when the sole is wearing out? You may say throw it away, but what if you don't have the money for new shoes? What do you do then? The sole is wearing thin and it needs to be renewed. Do what people used to do, put a new soul on it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-7895914199309243843?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/7895914199309243843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=7895914199309243843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7895914199309243843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7895914199309243843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2009/02/well-worn.html' title='Well Worn'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SaHVEKzAl-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/PDBpyNW3ZcE/s72-c/DSC_0009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3328533040044875272</id><published>2008-11-17T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T18:46:32.554-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner Tickets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SSIrhC1iK5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/cYrL5EP3q-U/s1600-h/sc06577081.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 322px; height: 400px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SSIrhC1iK5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/cYrL5EP3q-U/s400/sc06577081.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269822360673987474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If you would like to purchase tickets call 770-355-2690 or e-mail me at thethinkers_thedreamers_and_me@yahoo.com.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3328533040044875272?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3328533040044875272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3328533040044875272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3328533040044875272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3328533040044875272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/11/dinner-tickets.html' title='Dinner Tickets'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SSIrhC1iK5I/AAAAAAAAAEU/cYrL5EP3q-U/s72-c/sc06577081.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-2495881154870393324</id><published>2008-11-15T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T20:03:32.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonder and Amazement</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SR-biNOVbxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/2uN1NB6QRC0/s1600-h/wonder.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SR-biNOVbxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/2uN1NB6QRC0/s320/wonder.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269101101014413074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about a lot of things. I say think when that is not what I really mean. What I mean I don't think has a word. My thoughts stay in my head until they are resolved, the word is not obsession. I would like to not think about these things so much, it would be nice to have a nights sleep where I don't wake up going "Oh crap!!". Not all of my nights are like that sometimes I lay in bed until I fall asleep. I just lay there, thinking. Not of anything in-particular but just of how the day went, what I am doing the next day or why I can never fall asleep when that is my goal.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As of late my thoughts have been on this dinner. I may have mentioned it once of twice before...it keeps me up because of all of the things that need to be done before December 5th. This seems to be consuming my life right now. This and classes. I am not sure what possessed me to take on such a monstrous task. Now that I think of it, it never looked this big. I never realized how much planning goes into something like this. Next week I think that I may be up for 120 hours straight. There is so much to be done. In the end I know that it will be good and we will be in Haiti and things will be amazing. The problem is that the wonder and amazement is not the end result for me right now. I am sure it will be when the dinner is over but as of right now the wonder and amazement is that I am able to get up at 8:30 for my 9 am class and then be up until 2 am and do it again the next day. All I can say is that God has to be there holding me up because I am sure that by myself I cannot run on 4-6 hours of sleep for 3 months straight, that is the wonder and amazement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I know that this picture for this blog has nothing to do with this blog but it is what popped up when I typed in wonder and amazement into the google bar. So I thought it worked just fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-2495881154870393324?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/2495881154870393324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=2495881154870393324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2495881154870393324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/2495881154870393324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/11/wonder-and-amazement.html' title='Wonder and Amazement'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SR-biNOVbxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/2uN1NB6QRC0/s72-c/wonder.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1805834756277256112</id><published>2008-11-15T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T11:04:18.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What its like living in an etch-a-sketch...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SR8dKDNkDrI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pfQT0-0CgJI/s1600-h/etch_a_sketch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SR8dKDNkDrI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pfQT0-0CgJI/s320/etch_a_sketch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268962147544862386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...I know that I start my blogs with the word so a lot but I am not really sure what else to say when I start typing. I am amazed that I can even write sometimes. Most days I feel as though I have perpetual writers block. Then when I start to write and think about what I am saying it seems to go away. Anyway I wanted to write a blog about preparation. For the dinner and for the trip, which has been moved from leaving the end of June to leaving in the middle of May. That just happened like two days ago, so it seems that we can be as prepared as we want to be and things change. I think that, that is ok but I do like to have things set in stone and not an etch-a-sketch. We have been planning the Many Nations Dinner for a couple of months now and there has been a huge response, which is a good thing. We are hoping to make at least $1,000 from this. Then we could book tickets and sort of be out of the etch-a-sketch phase of that part of the trip. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am using an etch-a-sketch as an example because you can draw pictures in it and then you can shake it up and redraw the same thing just with a few changes. That is how the planning process for this trip has been going. We plan to leave on June 25th, nope you will be leaving May 13th. We plan to get all of the food for the dinner donated, nope, let me show you that I can do things through broke college students and not huge corporations. We have been so shaken for the last few months that I am literally shaking. This has been a stretching project for me because as I said before I like stone, not etch-a-sketches...but what are you going to do when you are trusting in God to get you to a place that only exists today because of Him. I am going to have to get used to living in a etch-a-sketch if this is what I am planning on doing the rest of my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1805834756277256112?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1805834756277256112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1805834756277256112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1805834756277256112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1805834756277256112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-its-like-living-in-etch-sketch.html' title='What its like living in an etch-a-sketch...'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SR8dKDNkDrI/AAAAAAAAAEE/pfQT0-0CgJI/s72-c/etch_a_sketch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-7350834696552218972</id><published>2008-11-12T15:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T16:14:09.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flood Revisited</title><content type='html'>Rain, rain on my face&lt;div&gt;It hasn't stopped raining for days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My world is a flood&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRtxQ3XJQtI/AAAAAAAAADY/7CYO6TvHPl8/s200/haiti_flood_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267928723692798674" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Slowly I become one with the mud&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if I can't swim after forty days &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And my mind is crushed by the crashing waves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up so high that I cannot fall, Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I am falling &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm weak and I'm dying &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need you to hold me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keep me from drowning again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Downpour in my soul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Splashing in the ocean, I'm losing control&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dark sky all around &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't feel my feet touching the ground&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if I can't swim after forty days &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And my mind is crushed by the crashing waves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up so high that I cannot fall, Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I am falling &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm weak and I'm dying &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need you to hold me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keep me from drowning again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Calm the storms that drench my eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dry the streams still flowing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cast down all waves of sin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And guilt that overthrows me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if I can't swim after forty days &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And my mind is crushed by the crashing waves&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up so high that I cannot fall, Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I am falling &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm weak and I'm dying &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need you to hold me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lift me up &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keep me from drowning again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is how I have felt the last couple of weeks. I am sure that many of you have heard this song and said "oh yeah, its great" but have you ever really felt what it is like to feel like you are drowning and you are calling out to God and it seems that he doesn't hear a word you are saying. I really have lately. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you may know I am planning a trip to Haiti or should I say that God is planning a trip to Haiti this summer and I am just the person he chose to use to get it done. I am not sure but there must be a reason because I am not this crazy on my own...ahem...not to say that God is crazy but this is not something that I would do on my own. And I am not. I have my friend Calah who is helping and Jonathan who is also helping. They have both been there helping me get things done and keeping me sane. We have made a lot of progress. It is just that there is a daunting task ahead of us and we feel as though we "are splashing in the ocean, losing control". we are having a hard time seeing the finished product of the smiling faces of the kids at World Harvest Orphanage. We need a lot of supplies to help out there and do what we want to do there. We are believing that God will supply all of what we need for us. So we know that we shouldn't worry but we can't do all of this on our own without asking like it says in Luke 11:10.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you wish to send donations or money send it to the following address:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alyssa Hallaway&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2317 Westland Mill &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acworth, GA 30102&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We will be there for six weeks so...if you cannot help in giving money, give your prayers, support and blessings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alyssa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-7350834696552218972?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/7350834696552218972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=7350834696552218972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7350834696552218972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7350834696552218972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/11/flood-revisited.html' title='Flood Revisited'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRtxQ3XJQtI/AAAAAAAAADY/7CYO6TvHPl8/s72-c/haiti_flood_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1060991089513580181</id><published>2008-11-12T07:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T07:37:32.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pennies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRr26svjagI/AAAAAAAAADQ/RikGw-OEmMA/s1600-h/100_2533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRr26svjagI/AAAAAAAAADQ/RikGw-OEmMA/s200/100_2533.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267794202466675202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have realized in the last few months that the only reason that Calah, Jonathan, and I will be going to Haiti this summer is because people have an ample amount of pennies that they want to get rid of. I am not sure when the penny became such a problem for people but, that is ok with me because people are giving them to us. I am not sure how many I have counted in since we began collecting "donations", (whatever helps you sleep at night, I know you hate your pennies...) I think that I have counted at least 1800 pennies. I am not exaggerating either. That is $18.00, just in pennies. I counted 955 just last night, which makes me think that we have counted closer to 2500 pennies. Thats $25.00. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember hearing once that they, whoever they may be, wanted to do away with the penny as currency. HA. Like they could really do that, it is convenient to have two pennies when the change on your bill is like .22 or .02 exactly, then you don't get more pennies back. I laugh a little when people say that they only have like two pennies after we finish our little speech saying what we are doing. The conversation goes a little like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hi. My friend, Calah, and I are going on a mission trip this summer to Port Au Prince, Haiti. We will be there for two months and we will be working at an orphanage for part of the trip. We are going around asking for donations of spare change to help raise money for supplies for the kids and to actually get us there. Is there anything that you would like to donate?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah! Let me look...........................I have like three pennies?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"That is great! Every little bit helps get us closer to our goal!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is about how the conversation goes. But, there are some people that have mountains of change that they give. I mean like eight dollars in change, its crazy. Some people have given us $20 bills when we are just asking for spare change, college students have given us $20 bills and checks for $50. We are so grateful of the kids here on campus. They are all so willing to give. Even when you start slurring what you are saying and tell them that you are paying to get their change or that you are collecting supplies, instead of collecting change. You think it would be easier to repeat the same thing 300 times but you my friend are wrong....11 pm does not agree with my brain and I tend to be incomprehensible but people still hear what I dod or did not say and they give. We have two more dorms to go to and I am hoping that they are as generous as the last 8 that we have been to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we have to go to all of them again next week to sell dinner tickets...it is going to be great...all in one night... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The power of the penny amazes me, all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1060991089513580181?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1060991089513580181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1060991089513580181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1060991089513580181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1060991089513580181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/11/pennies.html' title='Pennies...'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRr26svjagI/AAAAAAAAADQ/RikGw-OEmMA/s72-c/100_2533.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-7157206773179227856</id><published>2008-11-08T12:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T12:40:06.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nations Dinner and other stuff</title><content type='html'>So life has been crazy l&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX393K509I/AAAAAAAAABg/7htoJb0VBtM/s200/100_2485.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266387981433426898" /&gt;ately. I say lately meaning the same as it normally is...anyway I have been planning a trip to Haiti this summer, if you don't already know, with a couple of friends. It has been a long, hard, crazy and amazing thing. We have been doing a lot of fundraising and there is even more to be done. We are getting ready to have a big one actually. I have been making banners for it for the last three or four days, they are the photos in this blog. It is the nations dinner. This is going to be really fun I think...we have gone through a lot of preparation for this dinner and I am praying that it goes off without a hitch. I know that it will lord willing. We are hoping to raise like $1,000 dollars for this and then that would cover at least 3 plane tickets maybe 4. We found tickets for $372.40 and that is round trip! Ok so doing the math that covers like 2 3/4 tickets but, that is closer than we are now. We are going to be doing other things as well. We want to raise like $5,000 dollars total and I am realizing that getting 5 people there is harder than getting 1 person there. I know that the Lord will make a way for a&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX30lypHaI/AAAAAAAAABY/Uu8IqL6NDNk/s200/100_2447.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266387822149442978" /&gt;ll of us to get there no matter what. &lt;div&gt;I am really excited about this trip. We are going to be working at a orphanage in Haiti, some of you may have heard of it, called World Harvest for Christ New Missions Children's Home. This place really is like a second home to me well, all of Haiti is like a second home to me but WHC is where my Haiti experience began when I was 12. These are the kids that really changed my outlook on life and made me realize that I had a great life and things are not as bad as I think they are. I love these kids and we want to do great things for them this summer. We want to bring in new sheets for all the kids, maybe slap a fresh coat of paint on the walls in the rooms. Who knows? We really just want to love these kids though and spend time playing and caring for them. That is the goal of this trip, to show &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX442aX9aI/AAAAAAAAABo/Fo0XUBEFl2c/s200/100_2510.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266388994842162594" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;the kids at WHC that they are loved and that someone cares. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel stupid doing this but if you would like to donate to the trip make all checks payable to me, Alyssa Hallaway and send them to me at:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2317 Westland Mill&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acworth, GA 30102&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And if you don't feel like you want to send money, send your prayers to us and with us as we go in this trip in June. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-7157206773179227856?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/7157206773179227856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=7157206773179227856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7157206773179227856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/7157206773179227856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/11/nations-dinner-and-other-stuff.html' title='Nations Dinner and other stuff'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX393K509I/AAAAAAAAABg/7htoJb0VBtM/s72-c/100_2485.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6794610066347839639</id><published>2008-06-29T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:29:53.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Minute Recap.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;So lets see what has happened the last few days...Oh yea. I went to the BEACH for the weekend with about 60 people! It was a retreat/VBS for our friends, the Hojo's/Manesaros (sp) kids, The Light House, and it was so much fun! Go to meet some new people, play volleyball against some Brazilian UN soldiers (this was one of the more enjoyable things of the day...except for the fact that they were wearing speedos...gross), got a great tan, got a little sun burnt , got to sleep in an air conditioned room (yes that is something you never do here and I loved it), got to swim in the CARIBBEAN, broke a dock/raft out in the water playing king of the raft (which later turned into let's see how many people we can knock off the raft and then into try to stay on the raft or try to get back on the half sunken raft),got a great tan, it was a lot of fun though. I met a lot of great people and got to hang out with some of my friends that live here, like Ari and Charmaine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English Camp starts tomorrow (Monday). I am really excited but really nervous. It is going to be loads of fun because I am in my element, Arts and Crafts. I have been dubbed The Craft Nazi. Haha. I am really going to have a ton of fun. No craft for you...(you have to watch Seinfeld to get it...The Soup Nazi).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6794610066347839639?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6794610066347839639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6794610066347839639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6794610066347839639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6794610066347839639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/06/last-minute-recap.html' title='Last Minute Recap.'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5828001549560456724</id><published>2008-06-29T19:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:26:28.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calling It For What It Is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 25, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;That big thing hurdling toward you, in some wacked out game of chicken, is called a cameo. That little truck looking thing with eighty people on it is called a tap-tap. The boys in the road, the one that this picture is of, they are called restivecs. Whats that? A child slave. Oh me! I am called blanc or give me a dollar. I hear it so many times a day that I am considering changing my name to Blanc Givemea Dollar. All of the things mentioned have a name that suits them but, what do you call a country that has a eighty percent unemployment rate, a illiteracy rate that is just as high or higher and has so much trash that it flows in the street like water and it is one of the most beautiful place that you have ever seen...I guess that you would call it Haiti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No I am not sure of all of Haiti's history but, I know that throughout its entire existence there have been revolts, dictators, coups, dictators, coups, dicta....you get the point. There have also been many promises made by by good men that have changed and the promises of others that say things will change and they will get better, they never did, as you can see. So the money that is promised by the government for this road here and that city there never made it to this road here and that city there. The people are really the ones that suffer when the politicians start to line their pants with money instead of fabric, because they can, and they put the money for this road here and that city there in those money lined pants. Why am I here?I guess it is because there is a new generation coming that can change all of this. Those restivec boys up there? Yes they are apart of it. I believe that if they are given a chance to start over and they are no longer forced to work in the streets of Delmas for money that they will only see twice, once when it is handed to them and twice when they take it out of their pocket to give it to the person that is forcing them to do this, no they don't do it just to bug you. Anyway, yes they are the ones that can change the corruption and the political system because they live it, someone bigger and more powerful taking the money that you earn. The children are the ones that will change Haiti. They are why I am here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to see the refereed to picture:&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=665873&amp;amp;id=546378177" target="_blank" rel="nofollow" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;http://www.facebook.com/ph&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;oto.php?pid=665873&amp;amp;id=5463&lt;/span&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;78177&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5828001549560456724?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5828001549560456724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5828001549560456724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5828001549560456724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5828001549560456724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/06/calling-it-for-what-it-is.html' title='Calling It For What It Is'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1109280086627178293</id><published>2008-06-29T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:25:15.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Is In These Words That We Say?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 17, 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What to say, What to say? I am not really sure what to say. It has been a few days since I posted...sorry. I don't think that 5 have stopped since I got here. I have taken like 500 pictures that and have been trying to upload them for 3 days. Things seem to take a lot longer here than anywhere else. People here seem not to have a sense of time and a sense that things need to be done at a certain time and they have to be to a place at a certain time. It is weird but it is ok to show up 2 or 3 hours late and to knock on your door in the middle of dinner. People don't seem to understand that there are certain hours that knocking on your gate at eight at night is not an ok thing to do. Another thing is that they seem to think that it is not a problem to show up to class. Its like why should I do that? Ummm, because you need to come and learn that its not ok to just leave your baby in the crib you have to play with it, its not ok to give your baby things that it your mind are ok for the baby when in truth they can kill your baby, its not ok that you don't come to meet Korin and get to DASH to get your AIDS meds, its not ok that you don't know what color red is (THAT IS WHY YOU ARE IN LITERACY!). No one here seems to be aware of things that are not ok...well what is not ok in my mind may be perfectly ok in their minds. And it is not ok for the ladies with AIDS to have the mind set that they are going to die because they have AIDS. 3 out of 20 women in our programs have AIDS. They think that they are going to die and that there babies are going to die. Not true. If they come to us, to go to DASH (where they get there meds), get there meds when they need to and take care of themselves, they can live long and normal lives. But it is such a taboo here to have AIDS that the ladies will not admit that they have it, even though in the back of their minds they know they do.They just won't admit it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still am not sure how I can run around like a chicken with its head cut off all day and deal with all of this all day and still want to be here. But its like that line from OneRepublic called Stop and Stare, then one that goes "You start to wonder why your here not there". When I hear that I think well, why am I not in Haiti? There are normally a number of reasons but I always want to be here even though it is so hard. I love it here, I really do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1109280086627178293?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1109280086627178293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1109280086627178293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1109280086627178293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1109280086627178293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-is-in-these-words-that-we-say.html' title='What Is In These Words That We Say?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5592215441963526310</id><published>2008-06-12T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T17:52:30.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Who Would Ever Want to Be King</title><content type='html'>So there is this song called Viva la Vida and I think it is my most favorite song that I have heard in a long time. It is by ColdPlay for all of you music people. It has two lines in it that seem to stick with me: #1 is "Now I sleep alone, sweep the streets that I used to own". I think this sticks with me so much because of what I have seen in Haiti. A long time ago people used I guess "own" the streets. They were not afraid like they are now to be out at night. To see a lot of people out at night is a rare thing. If you do there is most likely something up or about to go awry. People also are very poor to, it was not always so but as things went on with corrupt and inept rulers that have wanted power and cared more about themselves than their people that they were supposed to be protecting. #2 is "Who would ever want to be king?". Really no one wants to rule Haiti, unless you want all the power or want to try to do some good. There have been few rulers who want the latter and to many to count that want all the power. Those that have tried to do good have been killed by someone who wants the power. Papa Doc for example did what he had to do to get to the top, killing many people along the way and he ruled till he died at the end of the 60's. The president now, Prevale, has done many good things. He has put garbage trucks on the streets to create jobs and he has tried to clean up all of the gangs and now he is trying to get rid of the drug trafficking and the drug lords, who in a way keep the people poor.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not sure why this song sticks with me and I am even more unsure why a country such as Haiti sticks with me even harder. I think that it is a good thing that I am here, I know it is actually. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5592215441963526310?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5592215441963526310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5592215441963526310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5592215441963526310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5592215441963526310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/06/oh-who-would-ever-want-to-be-king.html' title='Oh Who Would Ever Want to Be King'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-6515962478857201867</id><published>2008-06-11T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T19:57:40.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So today. Great way to start a post. I think so and it is all I can really think of to say at this time. So today...I got up at 8:30, we almost got in 3 accidents, we went to 3 different super markets to find ONE thing, we went to Epidor (my favorite), we played with the kids at the boys and girls houses, my moms plane was late, Hillary missed the plane because AA is stupid, we ate dinner at Beth's, rode in the back of the truck, dropped the girls off at the girls house, and came back here unpacked my mom's bags, put all that crap away, took a cold shower and here i am now writing this. Maybe not all in that order, but pretty close to that order. Today was pretty uneventful. The ladies in sewing got a kick out of me and they are all wonderful. I am not really sure what else to say but we are all having a good time and my mom and family is here now so I am happy about that. I hope I will have more to say tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-6515962478857201867?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/6515962478857201867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=6515962478857201867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6515962478857201867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/6515962478857201867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/06/so-today.html' title='So Today'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-947709087618382350</id><published>2008-06-11T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T05:45:42.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bienvenue Ay'Haiti</title><content type='html'>(not sure if I spelt Haiti right in creole...) &lt;div&gt;OK so day 1, well kinda 2. It would really be day 2 if my plane had been on time yesterday evening. I had no problems in ATL but when I got to MIA some of our flight attendants were MIA. So of course we had to wait for them, i actually only think it was one and she was stuck in customs. Then the plane was having an issue so they had to fix that...they decided to fix it after the flight attendant showed up, not while we were waiting, after...so we ended up leaving at about 4:30 instead of 2:30 which given that it is a 2 hour flight, we were four hours late. Well that was really ok because Beth had some girls coming in on my plane and their plane had been late arriving in MIA, if our plane had not been so late they would not have made it. wait let me rephrase that, if we had not been missing a flight attendant, if the had fixed the plane while we were waiting for the flight attendant they would have not made it to the plane in time to be in Haiti now. But needless to say I am in Haiti and I am enjoying my fan and our dog that decided to lick my toes this morning for about five minutes. I think that Beth is going to come and kidnap me today...not the best choice of words there she is going to come and get me and we so I am not stuck here all day...but that is really it up to now. I will keep you posted. Oh and we got to eat dinner at Beth's last night OMG!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-947709087618382350?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/947709087618382350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=947709087618382350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/947709087618382350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/947709087618382350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/06/bienvenue-ayhaiti.html' title='Bienvenue Ay&apos;Haiti'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-3936675949241654819</id><published>2008-04-30T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T20:00:25.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Farewell Lee University</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SBkxd1pzKnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/qYSS8xWsfIw/s1600-h/100_1682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SBkxd1pzKnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/qYSS8xWsfIw/s200/100_1682.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195238033836943986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Farewell my fair school. I will miss you but I will not miss the cramped living space and bad food. Nor will I miss all the random mail that you put in my mail box that I do not need because it will just end up in the trash along with everybody else's. I will miss my friends and the "free" Chick-Fi-La but I will not miss Sodexho. I will miss all my friends as we scatter back across the country and to other countries, even though I think that I am the only one doing that. I really wish I was exempt from Global Perspectives, alas. Freedom of the summer has come yet now I will be bound by boredom for a month while I work and then there will be no time for boredom because I will be in Haiti, which I am going to start referring to as the country that never sleeps. But Lee University i will be back in the Fall to grace you with my presence once again. Thank you Jesus that I do not have to stand in registration lines next semester. ( I took and edited the picture al by my lonesome...) &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-3936675949241654819?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/3936675949241654819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=3936675949241654819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3936675949241654819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/3936675949241654819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/04/farewell-lee-university.html' title='Farewell Lee University'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SBkxd1pzKnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/qYSS8xWsfIw/s72-c/100_1682.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5200946301957613944</id><published>2008-03-12T11:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T12:00:26.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Destination Darfur</title><content type='html'>So. I have recently discovered an organization called HELPSudan International. They were formed by The Lost Boys of The Sudan. Why, you may ask, did I find them? I found them because I have really wanted to go to the Sudan, specifically the Darfur region, for a long time. I started reading this book called A Billion Lives by the former UN Undersecretary for Humanitarian Affairs and Former UN Emergency Relief Chief Jan Egeland and in the book he talks about the Sudan. In the story he talks about a women who has come to a hospital because the Janjaweed had come into her hut and terrorized her and her children and shot her 2 year old in the neck. The only way the child survived was because they were taken to the hospital by the local chief and was abel to get immediate medical attention. The sad thing is that this is not uncommon. Women and children are the ones who are getting the brunt of the violence. They are raped because the soldiers feel like it and they are being beat because they are weaker. They are the reason I want to go there. To do something to make a difference in the lives and the women and children of the Sudan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5200946301957613944?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5200946301957613944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5200946301957613944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5200946301957613944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5200946301957613944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/03/destination-darfur.html' title='Destination Darfur'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-4429561931769718893</id><published>2008-03-08T20:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T20:52:43.018-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Times</title><content type='html'>So this weekend I went over to my friend Bethanie's house and we went to the mall and out to lunch and went and got our nails done. I think that it was the most fun that I have had in a long time. We talked about old times in 9th and 10th grade and how dumb we were. For example the language of Ong...yeah don't ask...you don't want to know. YCJCYAD...Yaks Can Jump Canyons Yeah Adam Disser...it really stands for Your Curiosity Just Cost You A Dollar...so pay up...I am not kidding I am a broke college student I don't make jokes. We talked about the guys we like and why we seemed to like the ones that were complete jerks or adorkable© (my word, its copy righted). It was so much fun. I am really glad that I am connecting with all of my old friends from high school here in GA. I really have missed them over the years and have thought about them a lot (some I am not sure why I have thought about them?) But hey I like that I am in touch with them now and I think that it is for a good reason that they are coming back into my life...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-4429561931769718893?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/4429561931769718893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=4429561931769718893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4429561931769718893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/4429561931769718893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/03/good-times.html' title='Good Times'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-30732089719732378</id><published>2008-03-05T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T15:52:56.551-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Things Made New</title><content type='html'>So I did something that I haven't done since the summer or maybe before I went to Europe...I put labels on envelopes for my parents newsletter. Yeah I know...My mom would be so proud if she were here and not in Haiti. The amazing thing is that I offered to do it to! I find that to be a small miracle. Maybe God will make another miracle tomorrow when I go see my dad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-30732089719732378?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/30732089719732378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=30732089719732378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/30732089719732378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/30732089719732378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/03/old-things-made-new.html' title='Old Things Made New'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-5132766955416340958</id><published>2008-03-02T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T21:40:20.509-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skype</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/R8uPGlVSToI/AAAAAAAAAAg/td_F_t0ABs8/s1600-h/skype_logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/R8uPGlVSToI/AAAAAAAAAAg/td_F_t0ABs8/s200/skype_logo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173385940228525698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think that I have decided that I am not the biggest fan of the Skype Internet Phone System. I mean it is a great thing when it works but, when it doesn't it is just annoying. I am not so happy with it when it cuts me off mid sentence when I am trying to tell my mother something important. Thats annoying. I really don't like when it refuses to dial or call when it is the only way that I can see and physically talk o my mother. iChat is not a great thing either but it connects and stays connected but for some reason the video does not work. I guess I will just have to deal with Skype until something better comes along or I can actually go to Haiti and see my mother. It would also help if my mother got online...then there wouldn't be issues with mommy withdrawals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-5132766955416340958?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/5132766955416340958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=5132766955416340958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5132766955416340958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/5132766955416340958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/03/skype.html' title='Skype'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/R8uPGlVSToI/AAAAAAAAAAg/td_F_t0ABs8/s72-c/skype_logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635098330345811043.post-1762542636655938829</id><published>2008-03-02T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T21:29:54.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You and me God. Right?</title><content type='html'>So, Haiti. A far away distant place right? No, not really. Being a two hour plane ride from any airport in Florida and the fact that my family is currently living there, makes it very close to my heart. My family moved there in November 2007. A few days after Thanksgiving actually. We had been going back and forth for seven years and with the sewing program and the women's program starting up, it would get rather expensive. So why not make it your permanent place of residence...BECAUSE ALYSSA IS IN COLLEGE AND CAN'T GO WITH THATS WHY NOT! No really its great. I get to go more often and get to be there and it is a great. It s one of the most amazing places that I have ever been to. The people are great and it is so beautiful...in some areas. So are you considering moving yet? So quit your job...oh yeah that thing that seems to be eluing me right now...you need one of those don't you? Well all you have to do is pack up your stuff, ship it all through customs, and trust God that he will provide all for you...God do you want to tell me the plan ahead of time? *silence* No? Didn't think so...IT WOULD BE HELPFUL! *silence* No? OK then...So it has been 4 months now that my family has been there and they are headed to their 5 month, unlike me who is almost done with her first year of college and still has 3 more to go and... GOD! PLAN! *silence* Guess I'll wait then. Not that I am going to like it or anything. Without my family...my mommy, alone in Nascar Central, which would make NAscar the biggest sporting event of the year or whenever it is on ( I never really considered it a sport and still don't...its more of a talent driving at 200 mph)...PLAN! No? HELLO!? OK then, I'll wait. I won't like it. I guess with a BS or whatevs I can do more in Haiti than without it and get more help with it to... now only if lee would stop trying to get me married...sorry ADD... But the whole starting a school thing is all that I know of any plan that has been set in motion, all I know of any grand cosmic plan so far. WANT TO TELL ME SOME MORE OF THIS PLAN YOU HAVE GOD? FILL ME IN JUST A BIT? *silence* I am really getting tired of not getting an answer there God...*silence* Fine be that way...I mean... I guess that I will wait here patiently until I hear something rather than nothing. I suppose waiting for you to tell me what to do it better than me trying to do it myself...it is also like watching the grass grow...I mean...ehggg...cause we both know how it ends up if I do it myself...I WOLD STILL LIKE TO KNOW!!! HELLO!!! *silence* Ok, you and me God. Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6635098330345811043-1762542636655938829?l=thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/feeds/1762542636655938829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6635098330345811043&amp;postID=1762542636655938829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1762542636655938829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6635098330345811043/posts/default/1762542636655938829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegospelaccordingtoalyssa.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-and-me-god-right.html' title='You and me God. Right?'/><author><name>Alyssa Rae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01116459131361136996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jtt2n4ASl7Y/SRX6Ne_hsyI/AAAAAAAAABw/MAxhdVhJhfM/S220/Photo+114.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
