<?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-6256211786421865270</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:03:49.469-08:00</updated><category term='spirit'/><category term='failure fear'/><category term='sick apathy'/><category term='boys'/><category term='emotions'/><category term='trust'/><category term='love'/><category term='girls'/><category term='thankful'/><category term='identity'/><category term='seasons'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Writing the song of my heart</title><subtitle type='html'>"I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else." -C.S. Lewis</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-3850637930182047779</id><published>2011-07-02T23:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T21:03:31.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emmanuel</title><content type='html'>"Emmanuel: from Hebrew `immānū'el,  literally: God with us".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I can remember, this simple word has been my favorite name for God. I would belt the Amy Grant song at the top of my four year old lungs, and I even tried to name a babydoll of mine "Emmanuel." My dad, the quick-thinker he is, suggested "Emma" instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be a short blog, but I felt I needed to reflect. The concept of "Emmanuel" has been manifested in my life recently, and I am ever so thankful for the resurfacing of this truth. God is so good, and He is ever-present in my daily life, loving me fiercely through my countless mistakes and shortcomings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I have reminded myself to reshape my prayers slightly. Instead of praying to be a better woman of God or praying for Him to teach me to try harder, I find myself thanking Him for being there with me. I pray I see His love, mercy, or grace in every situation. Through my crazy freak-outs, through deaths of beloved pets, through deep longing for my family, through it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ysj_tTPFo5M/ThATHO6PibI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Zwj6JQpEKs8/s1600/be-still-and-know.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ysj_tTPFo5M/ThATHO6PibI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Zwj6JQpEKs8/s320/be-still-and-know.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625016949568145842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-3850637930182047779?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/3850637930182047779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/07/emmanuel.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/3850637930182047779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/3850637930182047779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/07/emmanuel.html' title='Emmanuel'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ysj_tTPFo5M/ThATHO6PibI/AAAAAAAAAOo/Zwj6JQpEKs8/s72-c/be-still-and-know.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-8832099016677139801</id><published>2011-02-27T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T01:36:38.558-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Media-Naranja</title><content type='html'>I'm blessed. Hard to the core. And I'm gonna brag to blogger about how much love God gives me, because those who'll make fun of me or get annoyed with this post think blogs are stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garrett Daniel. There are too many awesome things about him to list. But I'll start with some:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves Jesus. First and foremost.&lt;br /&gt;He loves me. Through everything.&lt;br /&gt;He's funny.&lt;br /&gt;He's ridiculously good-looking.&lt;br /&gt;We can quote movies together.&lt;br /&gt;He can do almost any accent flawlessly.&lt;br /&gt;He'll make goofy faces with me and let me take pictures of them.&lt;br /&gt;He is my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;He is very intelligent.&lt;br /&gt;He's talented.&lt;br /&gt;He loves his family, and he's a wonderful son, brother, and uncle.&lt;br /&gt;He knows me.&lt;br /&gt;He sticks around anyway.&lt;br /&gt;His love teaches me about God's love. &lt;br /&gt;We can laugh at ridiculous things.&lt;br /&gt;We just fit together: our senses of humor, our love for others, our beliefs, so much.&lt;br /&gt;He can be honest with me.&lt;br /&gt;He is so encouraging and affirming.&lt;br /&gt;We make up ridiculous pet names on the spot.&lt;br /&gt;We have awesome inside-jokes.&lt;br /&gt;When I try and get away with something, he'll laugh and kiss me and say no way.&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes he gives in :).&lt;br /&gt;When I talk to him with a baby voice, he'll talk back with one.&lt;br /&gt;He makes me wicked awesome mixes and fake serenades me.&lt;br /&gt;Our voices sound real good together.&lt;br /&gt;We look real good together.&lt;br /&gt;He tells me I'm beautiful when I don't think I am. &lt;br /&gt;Like when I have no makeup on and my retainers in.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't like tomatoes, so more for me!&lt;br /&gt;He lets me borrow like three sweatshirts at a time.&lt;br /&gt;We go to church together.&lt;br /&gt;We worship together.&lt;br /&gt;We love together.&lt;br /&gt;He is my media-naranja, my soul-mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just gonna post pictures :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gD4WYqB4Buo/TWoZLDRUIBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/14guq0LEHQw/s1600/P2210057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gD4WYqB4Buo/TWoZLDRUIBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/14guq0LEHQw/s320/P2210057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298766098964498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Uz-fBtCx70g/TWoZK3yGWeI/AAAAAAAAAN0/wAhDToU_Fek/s1600/157079_166072106763636_162935630410617_282895_5093643_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Uz-fBtCx70g/TWoZK3yGWeI/AAAAAAAAAN0/wAhDToU_Fek/s320/157079_166072106763636_162935630410617_282895_5093643_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298763015248354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-funeq5rUfIo/TWoYv6qxcgI/AAAAAAAAANs/VIi7bMmkBPk/s1600/176074_10150093715170958_660945957_6344125_275835_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-funeq5rUfIo/TWoYv6qxcgI/AAAAAAAAANs/VIi7bMmkBPk/s320/176074_10150093715170958_660945957_6344125_275835_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298299933356546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Nes0tjNc2g/TWoYvr46z6I/AAAAAAAAANk/NbHQ3sZWQKc/s1600/68458_160346680656183_159289877428530_409528_7725984_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Nes0tjNc2g/TWoYvr46z6I/AAAAAAAAANk/NbHQ3sZWQKc/s320/68458_160346680656183_159289877428530_409528_7725984_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298295966158754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_TqGmXYc12U/TWoYvefwTCI/AAAAAAAAANc/WIaXYn_hrEM/s1600/17175_1367340742866_1212091144_1061719_5116748_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_TqGmXYc12U/TWoYvefwTCI/AAAAAAAAANc/WIaXYn_hrEM/s320/17175_1367340742866_1212091144_1061719_5116748_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298292370951202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hMWVLCXqPqM/TWoYvHC2JyI/AAAAAAAAANU/14FPzDYloTQ/s1600/P5050092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hMWVLCXqPqM/TWoYvHC2JyI/AAAAAAAAANU/14FPzDYloTQ/s320/P5050092.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298286075684642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kK2UK6THUTo/TWoYuwUBntI/AAAAAAAAANM/8QDNoM-AXw4/s1600/P2210053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kK2UK6THUTo/TWoYuwUBntI/AAAAAAAAANM/8QDNoM-AXw4/s320/P2210053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578298279973723858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zxfwc0TTCT8/TWoKy66UoGI/AAAAAAAAANE/M6LHw6Ddal4/s1600/P9070014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zxfwc0TTCT8/TWoKy66UoGI/AAAAAAAAANE/M6LHw6Ddal4/s320/P9070014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282958375395426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qA-ET_9Zy5Q/TWoKyg1m2CI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Asn-8oa0P-E/s1600/154970_166072163430297_162935630410617_282896_2845065_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qA-ET_9Zy5Q/TWoKyg1m2CI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Asn-8oa0P-E/s320/154970_166072163430297_162935630410617_282896_2845065_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282951376295970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JLlnynAh_-Q/TWoKySisWEI/AAAAAAAAAM0/VM88NqDBaFU/s1600/183770_10150102586870958_660945957_6433521_3260899_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JLlnynAh_-Q/TWoKySisWEI/AAAAAAAAAM0/VM88NqDBaFU/s320/183770_10150102586870958_660945957_6433521_3260899_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282947538868290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C8emHf0snnA/TWoKyUxdwRI/AAAAAAAAAMs/t_lk6BkBRkM/s1600/58472_428111710957_660945957_5095381_2990038_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C8emHf0snnA/TWoKyUxdwRI/AAAAAAAAAMs/t_lk6BkBRkM/s320/58472_428111710957_660945957_5095381_2990038_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282948137697554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lzVlJ3zMlxs/TWoKCkCl8wI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8yiCuYGlbHY/s1600/P9180031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lzVlJ3zMlxs/TWoKCkCl8wI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8yiCuYGlbHY/s320/P9180031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282127602348802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cvxJsA4lcmw/TWoKCcZdwTI/AAAAAAAAAMc/lYHokT6y_9s/s1600/PB190014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cvxJsA4lcmw/TWoKCcZdwTI/AAAAAAAAAMc/lYHokT6y_9s/s320/PB190014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282125550797106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NC4n4DH-x2k/TWoKCLYS1wI/AAAAAAAAAMU/vVZW_RlThN8/s1600/P1130022a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NC4n4DH-x2k/TWoKCLYS1wI/AAAAAAAAAMU/vVZW_RlThN8/s320/P1130022a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282120982484738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VQ3Fw4Gi02Q/TWoKBmRWUsI/AAAAAAAAAMM/b2Zmq08rguw/s1600/72573_454660039703_545014703_5188535_5668507_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VQ3Fw4Gi02Q/TWoKBmRWUsI/AAAAAAAAAMM/b2Zmq08rguw/s320/72573_454660039703_545014703_5188535_5668507_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282111021241026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQieD5RABPU/TWoKBkKtjDI/AAAAAAAAAME/N8iP1FqfGlQ/s1600/P2210051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQieD5RABPU/TWoKBkKtjDI/AAAAAAAAAME/N8iP1FqfGlQ/s320/P2210051.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578282110456532018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love this man, and most of all, I love where Jesus is leading him to lead us. Happy (belated) one year, pookie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-8832099016677139801?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/8832099016677139801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/02/media-naranja.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8832099016677139801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8832099016677139801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/02/media-naranja.html' title='Media-Naranja'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gD4WYqB4Buo/TWoZLDRUIBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/14guq0LEHQw/s72-c/P2210057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-2756175390688670570</id><published>2011-01-29T00:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T00:56:31.082-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trust'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thankful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='identity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seasons'/><title type='text'>New season, new blog cover.</title><content type='html'>I love how random life can be.&lt;br /&gt;How unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;How scattered.&lt;br /&gt;How imperfect.&lt;br /&gt;How perfectly it aligns with God's plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love moments. I've been realizing more and more that I just love moments. Moments with God, with people I love, doing things I enjoy...lately, moments to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been learning to breathe the Holy Spirit back into my everyday life. I've been calling on Him to lead me and guide me through my choices, molding my shaky faith with all its worries into a strong, firm trust with a big faith to back it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a great new season in my life. A time when God is encouraging me to enjoy all of the pleasures life has for me, whether it is taking up kickboxing (which I did; it's AWESOME!) or pressing into God and what His plan entails for my journey into a more full life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep noticing three key themes in this new season: trust, identity, and thankfulness. I'm so very excited for what God has in store for me and my growth in Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-2756175390688670570?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/2756175390688670570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-season-new-blog-cover.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2756175390688670570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2756175390688670570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-season-new-blog-cover.html' title='New season, new blog cover.'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-908702601467133993</id><published>2011-01-22T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T00:23:59.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Moon, Jo!</title><content type='html'>I've been realizing lately that doing things in bullet points will actually get things done/said/accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weekends.&lt;br /&gt;road trips.&lt;br /&gt;jenna.&lt;br /&gt;talks.&lt;br /&gt;long talks.&lt;br /&gt;deep talks.&lt;br /&gt;the Holy Spirit.&lt;br /&gt;prophecy.&lt;br /&gt;laughter.&lt;br /&gt;diet pepsi.&lt;br /&gt;bagels.&lt;br /&gt;hugs.&lt;br /&gt;janelle.&lt;br /&gt;very one-sided basketball games.&lt;br /&gt;joanna.&lt;br /&gt;stars.&lt;br /&gt;moon rises.&lt;br /&gt;pizza.&lt;br /&gt;toe-headed children.&lt;br /&gt;joy.&lt;br /&gt;taboo.&lt;br /&gt;kelci.&lt;br /&gt;memories.&lt;br /&gt;sleepovers.&lt;br /&gt;pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;bacon.&lt;br /&gt;restful afternoons.&lt;br /&gt;massages.&lt;br /&gt;texting.&lt;br /&gt;forever 21.&lt;br /&gt;blogging. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....here's to Jo's birthday week! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Jenna and I are celebrating in this picture!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/TTs1dsu-JxI/AAAAAAAAALI/Pj4EvScQknU/s1600/photo.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/TTs1dsu-JxI/AAAAAAAAALI/Pj4EvScQknU/s320/photo.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565100548887029522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-908702601467133993?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/908702601467133993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday-jo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/908702601467133993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/908702601467133993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday-jo.html' title='Happy Birthday Moon, Jo!'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/TTs1dsu-JxI/AAAAAAAAALI/Pj4EvScQknU/s72-c/photo.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-6855465840201011854</id><published>2010-09-28T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T13:51:56.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'10/'11: Processing the Scary Stuff</title><content type='html'>I'm busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been busy before. I mean, yes, I have had things to do, and some days, I've had more things to do than others. But I don't think, until this school year, that I have ever been BUSY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kind of awful. For me, anyway. Even though I am going from thing, to thing, to thing, I end up feeling empty and alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am handling this the wrong way. Maybe I am putting too much pressure on myself to be the best at everything I'm consumed with. Maybe I am too absorbed with comparing myself to others who are drastically impacting people to notice the lives that I could be changing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, I've been feeling extremely attacked. All of my insecurities are coming out, and they are causing me to lash out at the people that I love most. I have had dry eyes for maybe a few nights in the past couple of weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, this year scares me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came to Redding early for RA training week, I felt so incredibly pumped for this year: all the crazy things God is going to do, how He will move on this campus, the lives he's going to saturate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel deflated. I feel like I'm moving backwards. I feel tired. I feel spent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone--yes, I am hyperbolizing, but it seems as though everyone (including leaders on campus) that I take the time to ask how they are doing start off their response with a sigh, and they reply "stressed."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the student leaders were stoked for the big things that are going to happen this school year. We all threw ourselves into Orientation Week, and the first weeks of school, and the fantastic worship night Encounter, and we saw God moving amongst His children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But horrible things continue to brew on this campus. We are immensely overwhelmed with school, we are continually feeling the grinding of stress on our nerves and emotions, we aren't getting enough sleep, people we love are getting hurt, or worse: a girl's mother was pronounced brain-dead after being rushed to the hospital; a guy's grandparents were killed in a car accident, and his nephew was put in intensive care; a girl's brother was driving a jeep and an accident severely injured his sister and killed her boyfriend...and I am sure there are more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is real stuff: heavy stuff. And all I can picture when I think of all these things is that Satan is terrified. Satan sees all the potential of this year, and he sees all of the big things that God is going to work, and he is desperately trying to snatch up whatever he can reach. He is wreaking havoc on this campus, and we need to be aware of that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to press into God more than ever this year, or Satan will get us to our most vulnerable, desperate point and take us out. I don't want that. I don't want that for anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick right now, so if this sounds "over-dramatic", just take it for what it is; I'm processing this for myself, and in turn, rambling via blog. Just know that it's real, and we need to be careful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-6855465840201011854?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/6855465840201011854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2010/09/1011-processing-scary-stuff.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/6855465840201011854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/6855465840201011854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2010/09/1011-processing-scary-stuff.html' title='&apos;10/&apos;11: Processing the Scary Stuff'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-896900679298090564</id><published>2010-05-23T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T17:03:27.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>KatieMarie-SiuSoresi-Tam</title><content type='html'>I am in love with this woman.  Yes, I said woman, Katie; you're a woman now!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie is in Cambodia right now doing her required internship for Simpson University's Cross-Cultural Studies major.  She left May 2nd, and she is staying, by herself, in a foreign country for two months.  She is working with a program called "Daughters" that helps women who are in the human trafficking trade get out and stay out.  It is an amazing organization that my friends Jenna Barney and Libbie McIntosh worked with a couple of years ago, and my friend Harrison Yager even randomly visited and supported when he was in Cambodia.  Now, Katie is working there, hands-on, with these broken women; encouraging them, supporting them, affirming them, and teaching them their worth and valuable skills that can help them earn an income in a safe, healing way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you may already be amazed at the sound of how amazing Katie is, but I am not finished; oh, no.  This was not just a required internship for this woman.  Working with girls stuck in prostitution has been her dream for a very long time; helping these women who are forced into this way of life with no visible way out has been something that God has laid upon Katie's heart for most of her life.  I've known about this dream since I met Katie my freshman year in college.  This quirky, hyper, adorable, spunky Asian's love for people permeates everything she does, says, and just is.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie Marie-Siu Soresi-Tam inspires me to my very core.  She and I can laugh til our lungs give out at the smallest things, but we can also sift through very profound questions that we just can't answer until we're with our Savior.  I've seen her through the easy stuff and the hard stuff, and she has always been there for me.  Sometimes, we look back, dumbfounded, at how much we've grown since we first met; we were both afraid of relationships, and look where we are now!  We've always laughed at how similar we are, and luckily, one of us is always slightly ahead of the other, so we can say, "Mm...been there.  You're feeling this and don't know why this is happening, right?  Yep, it gets better, I promise; here's some silly advice to get you through."  We've had amazing times, from 312, Jamaica, modest swimsuits!, calls with Phillis, N*SYNC stick figure dance moves, bloody noses, PEPPER TURKEY!!!! &gt;:(, wrestling for the honor of Bilbo, crazy photos..mostly on Thursdays, to our amazing notecards, laughterlaughterlaughter, painting, stripeyheadbands, "Aubrey, have you washed your face yet? Can we do it at the same time?", ascetic junkies, Wake Me Up, Nolan, Relentless Love, Garrett, Starbucks dates, Lifegroup..kinda :p, laughing for hours and hours at silly youtube videos like Aicha (that will ALWAYS be a classic :D), homework on our beds, reading LOTR finally, and soooooo much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie.  You are amazing and are one of my very best friends.  I am so proud of you for what you are doing for those girls in Cambodia, and I can't wait to hear it in person when you get back.  I love you so so SO much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know I'm gonna remember stuff later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-896900679298090564?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/896900679298090564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2010/05/katiemarie-siusoresi-tam.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/896900679298090564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/896900679298090564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2010/05/katiemarie-siusoresi-tam.html' title='KatieMarie-SiuSoresi-Tam'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-5854049938744005508</id><published>2010-03-18T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T16:02:42.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mm. Life is good.</title><content type='html'>Lately, life has been amazing; everything seems to be going so well. :) It's great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to make a list....:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The beauty of God's creation: &lt;br /&gt;-the bare trees quietly whistling along with the wind and the birds&lt;br /&gt;-the little white clouds that flit across the blue, blue skies&lt;br /&gt;-radiant orange sunsets that sink behind the gorgeous Simpson campus&lt;br /&gt;-even a chance encounter with a covenant-bearing rainbow after a light rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Friends and family:&lt;br /&gt;-my loving parents who text me just to say they're thinking about me&lt;br /&gt;  --my mom who calls to just check in, who listens to my endless ramblings about life and things going on with me and my Simpson world, and who sends me care packages stocked with thin mints and funny cards :)&lt;br /&gt;  --my dad who plays picture tag with me (via text messages and internet), and who either sends me beautiful pictures of everything I previously described about creation that I learned to admire from him, OR funny pictures of clever wordplay or ironic inconsistencies that I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;also&lt;/span&gt; learned to admire from him :)&lt;br /&gt;-my sister who makes my life daily with random texts of movie quotes from our childhood that were buried in my schema, deep in the forgotten nooks of my brain, or phone calls that overflow with news of her growth from her experiences in her last year of high school in a town saturated in drama and her trials that seem too big for her that she soars through, making me so proud to call her my sister&lt;br /&gt;-my wonderful boyfriend who constantly affirms me in my beauty and worth, and who listens to my insecurities and sticks around anyway, and who encourages me in my growth with my Jesus&lt;br /&gt;-my amazing friends and extended family who love me for who I am and want to hang out with me despite my shortcomings (and my lame jokes :p)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Last, but not least, my Creator who gave me all these things and blessed me with this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For awhile, I'd been panicking slightly because things &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; been going so well, and I was worried that because things were so wonderful, something bad was bound to happen.   I began to worry that the ominous thing in my future was just growing in ferocity the longer things went on without any huge trials (although, there were/are little ones, obviously, from day to day, but I mean large, life-changing-in-a-moment trials).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I started thinking ("a dangerous pastime" :p) and as I thought, well...actually, let's back up.  Nate Edwardson triggered it.  At the Stirring one night, he used the phrase "season of favor".  Now, being very close friends with Jenna Barney, I had heard all about seasons :), but I had never heard this one, or if I had, it had never struck a chord before.  I had always thought that when you are in God's favor, that everything goes right for you: getting As on every test, never tripping up the steps in LR, waking up early and feeling well-rested, being able to make crazy basketball half-court shots like Michael Jordan in space Jam, etc.  A shallow view, I know, but it was one of those assumptions I'd had since childhood that had become an ingrained fact of life that had never resurfaced and whose ridiculousity (yes, I made that up) had never been exposed.  Anyway, (gosh, I am SO tangent prone :p) I heard that phrase and thought it fit with me.  I may not fit the "Midas touch"-God's-favor, but I do believe that I am immensely blessed.  I thank God everyday for the things He has given me that I have done nothing to earn or deserve.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone (either Travis Osborne in Chapel, or Nate at the Stirring, I believe) was talking about Haiti as he was preaching, and he said something that hit me hard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The only difference between you and that person with nothing is where you were born, and you had no control over that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*low whistle*...Seriously, though, think about that for a second: the ONLY difference is &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;where&lt;/span&gt; God placed us.  I was so broken by that.  I have done nothing to deserve being born in America, to great parents--CHRISTIAN parents, with a wonderful family (parents, sister, extended family), to live in a middle-class home, to have great friends who love me and laugh with me, to go to a great school--a Christian school where I am in constant fellowship and encouraged so often....the list goes on and on.....I am so, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; blessed.  It almost brings me to tears again just typing it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before, during this season, I had only been thinking of the trials to come; I neglected to bask in the glory of the blessings God has bestowed upon me.  If He wants to bless me with all of these outrageously wonderful things, I am so in. Bring it on, Jesus :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-5854049938744005508?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/5854049938744005508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2010/03/mm-life-is-good.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5854049938744005508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5854049938744005508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2010/03/mm-life-is-good.html' title='Mm. Life is good.'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-8360545571250651994</id><published>2009-11-09T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T08:31:00.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He made me anyway.</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't written in a while, but I've been crazy busy.  I'm actually crazy busy right now, but this truth smacked me so hard in the face that I had to tell someone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God knew me before He made me...and He still made me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still struggling with knowing that God truly loves me.  It just seems so...impossible.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a rough night last night for some reason, so this morning, I skipped my first class and started reading Colossians; I read about how big and amazing and powerful God is, and how He gives us His power to be used through us...it's nuts.  I then picked up Crazy Love by Francis Chan.  I started this book a few weeks ago (and I've had poor Andrea's copy for almost a year), but I only got to the first chapter because I've had so many things going on and I like to watch the videos online along with the book.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway.  Francis Chan said "God knew me before he made me"...and then I thought, "and He STILL made me."  Why?? I have no idea...but He did.  He knew that I would be who I am...and He created me for a purpose.  Despite the mistakes I make and the things I do wrong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Powerful.  Now if that knowledge would only stick... :T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-8360545571250651994?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/8360545571250651994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/11/he-made-me-anyway.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8360545571250651994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8360545571250651994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/11/he-made-me-anyway.html' title='He made me anyway.'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-160174973449151819</id><published>2009-06-30T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T00:53:31.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's in love with me...</title><content type='html'>I feel broken right now. (ps this blog is going to be scattered)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a huge issue with guilt, (I'm just going to lay that out there) especially in my perception of my relationship with Jesus. I have always had a I'll-do-this-for-you-if-you-do-this-for-me type of mindset; it's been that way since I was younger. It's very hard to re-route that into a more rightly-centered thought process when it's so ingrained into you. Anyway, this morning I opened at Barnes and Noble after closing the night before, and today my shift was from 8:30am to 4:30pm. I have been exhausted since before going to Redding for three days and I haven't been able to catch up on my sleep. I've barely had time to blink just with work and doing other things, so I haven't been doing things that I "mean to" or that I'll "get around to"...things like reading the Bible or even like painting or cleaning my room or reading other books. All that to say BECAUSE I've been so exhausted lately and my bed looks so appealing when I come into my room, I've neglected these things and felt extremely guilty about not taking time to be with Jesus and read the Bible and make a set time for praying etc. When I feel guilty I push away people I love; unfortunately that includes God (I also have a horrible habit of assuming what people are thinking about me or are going to think about me, so I base many of my decisions off that). But because I've been feeling so terrible, I felt bad even praying for people that I know need it because I feel like "Oh, God's mad at me right now...He's probably listening to people who actually take the time for Him" so I back off even on praying...which makes me feel worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. On my way home on a not so great day at work, I'm listening to a mix CD of worship songs Jenna made for my sister and me. About 3 minutes into the drive home (I live about 20 minutes away from my work), Jenn Johnson's "A Little Longer" comes on. I do the whole head-tilt that shows I'm about to pay more attention because key words caught my attention, so I start the song over and listen to the words and all of a sudden, I'm crying. After listening to the song 4 1/2 times before I pull into the driveway, I'm full on sobbing. It broke me. I always think the relationship between Jesus and me is give and take. But the truth is, I AM human. I AM going to pull away and feel bad for not doing all the things I should be doing, but Jesus just wants me to "let those things go" and He wants to "love on me a little longer"; He's in love with me...what a concept. I will never be able to wrap my head around that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;A Little Longer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I do for You?&lt;br /&gt;What can I bring to You?&lt;br /&gt;What kind of song would you like me to sing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'll dance a dance for You&lt;br /&gt;Pour out my love to You&lt;br /&gt;What can I do for You beautiful king?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I... can't thank You enough.&lt;br /&gt;I can't thank You enough&lt;br /&gt;What can I do for You?&lt;br /&gt;What can I bring to You?&lt;br /&gt;What kind of song would you like me to sing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'll dance a dance for You&lt;br /&gt;Pour out my love to You&lt;br /&gt;What can I do for You beautiful king?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I... can't thank You enough.&lt;br /&gt;I can't thank You enough&lt;br /&gt;All of the words that I find... and I can't thank You enough.&lt;br /&gt;No matter I try... I can't thank You enough.&lt;br /&gt;Then I hear You sing to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you... don't have to do a thing&lt;br /&gt;Just simply be with me and let those things go&lt;br /&gt;'Cause they can wait another minute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait... this moment is too sweet&lt;br /&gt;Would you please stay here with Me&lt;br /&gt;And love on Me a little longer"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear You say...&lt;br /&gt;"You... don't have to do a thing&lt;br /&gt;Just simply be with me and let those things go&lt;br /&gt;'Cause they can wait another minute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait... this moment is too sweet&lt;br /&gt;Would you please stay here with Me&lt;br /&gt;And love on Me a little longer&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to be with you a little longer&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm in love with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ending did me over. It's my new favorite song. Praise Jesus for His unconditional love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SknEZGso92I/AAAAAAAAAHw/7HAtTlbTZxk/s1600-h/pooh-and-piglet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SknEZGso92I/AAAAAAAAAHw/7HAtTlbTZxk/s320/pooh-and-piglet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353025567680165730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-160174973449151819?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/160174973449151819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/06/hes-in-love-with-me.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/160174973449151819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/160174973449151819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/06/hes-in-love-with-me.html' title='He&apos;s in love with me...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SknEZGso92I/AAAAAAAAAHw/7HAtTlbTZxk/s72-c/pooh-and-piglet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-7876125207859259589</id><published>2009-06-26T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T00:56:48.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now she's old enough to drive....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Skm7FjOwnmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/U6meOXlgIX4/s1600-h/3027_76802923605_628633605_1606490_525345_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Skm7FjOwnmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/U6meOXlgIX4/s320/3027_76802923605_628633605_1606490_525345_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353015336137432674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that I am very good friends with THE Jenna Barney??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was her birthday on the 25th of June, exactly six months from Christmas and one day ago, and now that she is 23, she is old enough to drive. My sister Kelly, my very close friend Danae and I went to Redding for Jenna's birthday and the day before and after--to have a little wiggle room for extra celebration--and we had a blast. It was bloomin' hot, but worth the heat stroke very much so. We went to the library and dug through Theology books, found and checked out The Greatest Book Ever Written, complained about the heat, ate Thai food, wrote silly songs, dyed her hair "blonde", watched Bride Wars, complained about the heat, ate at Red Robin with great friends, saw Transformers 2, listened to Jenna play guitar, loved on each other, gave Jenna her birthday gifts, complained about the heat, went to the Stirring office, went through Dutch Bros to see Danae's cute Bethel-Barista-Boyfriend, listened to the "Get Psyched #2 Mix" (which included "Be A Man" from Mulan--epic), took crazy pictures, complained about the heat, and hugged each other 'til we could postpone goodbye no longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenna Louise Barney is like no other woman I have ever met. Sure, she's beautiful, smart, and funny like many girls claim to be, but even those words don't hold a candle to her. She is much more than that. For starters, I've never seen someone take so much time perfecting an essay, knowing that with a few more tweaks, pushing through a couple more brain aneurysms, and treading through fatigue that it will soon be flawless, or someone who speaks into your life so openly, so compassionately, with words so saturated in God's love for you that it has an echoing effect on your heart and flows into the deep recesses of your soul, or someone who sings and plays guitar with such passion for her Maker, every chord resounding with her heart of service to people and her devotion to God encouraging all who hear her...and so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenna is 23 years of age (plus a day) and her life is just beginning. I haven't even known her for a year and already I have seen her grow in many ways she thought were impossible, be filled with courage and EN-courage many dear friends, overcome heart-wrenching situations that have threatened to pull her under, and be strong through the fiercest lowest valleys for loved ones with an incredible faith and determination. Her deep soul and kindred spirit push me to be better and I know that God has great, great plans for her (with Jenna Barney, one "great" in front of plans isn't enough).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't thank Jesus enough for putting her in my life in such a way as this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SkW7gXV-5FI/AAAAAAAAAGw/ibVlWbIfexw/s1600-h/P4230029a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SkW7gXV-5FI/AAAAAAAAAGw/ibVlWbIfexw/s320/P4230029a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351889896896128082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday a day late, my dear one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-7876125207859259589?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/7876125207859259589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/06/now-shes-old-enough-to-drive.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/7876125207859259589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/7876125207859259589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/06/now-shes-old-enough-to-drive.html' title='Now she&apos;s old enough to drive....'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Skm7FjOwnmI/AAAAAAAAAHg/U6meOXlgIX4/s72-c/3027_76802923605_628633605_1606490_525345_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-5748030761121691138</id><published>2009-05-27T00:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T01:02:38.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I can...</title><content type='html'>UPDATE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is 12:19am in Hollister, CA 95023. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting on my creme-colored twin bed swarmed with pillows and blankets, with "Girl Meets God" laying open and face-down just inches from my knee and centimeters from being finished, listening to the quiet whirring of my desk fan and the distant buzz of the living room TV, and feeling the slight breeze from my cracked window as it seeps into my in my mildly stuffy bedroom, smiling just thinking about things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just feel God's peace right now. And I am very thankful for that...I think we sometimes take that for granted, or at least I do. In the words of Counting Crows "you don't know what you got 'til it's gone". And we all know when it's gone, that is for darn sure. So I'm just basking in it right now. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...my desk fan kind of sounds like the "I think I can" train from Dumbo...it seems as if it's urging me to try as I force myself up that mountain...chanting at me to keep going...to hold fast to this peace that he has given me...to press on...speaking of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relient K is only a little over a day away.      :)!!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenna Barney is coming tomorrow. And I can't help but feel like a child on Christmas Eve every time I think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a really fun day today. It was my good friend Matt Weir's birthday today, so Eleanor, Missy, Matt and I went out!! :D It was great!! The day went something like this: left Missy's house at 11:30am, drove to San Jose, went mini golfing, at about the 3rd hole I remembered how much I hate mini golfing, we got dehydrated, we left for the mall across the street, ate more than our weight in pizza and Diet Pepsi, walked around, Matt got rejected by TWO Verizon stores, looked at the sale in American Eagle, laughed at the ridiculous things in Pac Sun, went in the "Family bathrooms" and laughed at the baby toilet next to the big toilet (all I could think of was "Elf"), took HILARIOUS pictures in the FOTO booth (after rearranging ourselves many times, we barely fit), rode a quarter machine Merry-Go-Round (how great is that name?? "Merry-Go-Round"...it's just great), sat in the massage chairs, got three bucks each for smelling perfume, got free huge VANS stickers after taking pictures in front of their van, got See's Candies samples, got Starbucks, drove home! :) it was just good to do nothing and laugh all day and not worry about time or responsibilities...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work tomorrow at 12:00pm at Barnes and Noble with Eleanor. I am so glad to be back working with coffee! It's so much better than Applebees! AND Java as a matter of fact...though I don't quite have the FULL hang of it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just been reading for the past 45 minutes and it's been great. I used to be addicted to books only. Recently, I've been on a movie kick. Now, it's good to be back into books and rediscover how much I love them :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and my phone is dead. Like, my-charger-can't-even-charge-it type of dead. :/ soooo if you need to get a hold of me, contact Kelly or Eleanor if you have their numbers. If not, try facebook! I'll try and get it fixed soon! :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW I reeeally need to go to bed!!! I just wanted to post an update! Pray for me to keep pressing on and that I won't sit back and take this anymore :P! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Shz1IE1QFpI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/-gYEo9q1s8k/s1600-h/P5260022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Shz1IE1QFpI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/-gYEo9q1s8k/s320/P5260022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340412777239418514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would be my up-too-late-still-not-that-tired-but-tired-enough-and-yet-still-can't-shut-up-or-sleep-but-I-think-I-can-with-His-abounding-peace face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-5748030761121691138?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/5748030761121691138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/update-it-is-1219pm-in-hollister-ca.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5748030761121691138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5748030761121691138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/update-it-is-1219pm-in-hollister-ca.html' title='I think I can...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Shz1IE1QFpI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/-gYEo9q1s8k/s72-c/P5260022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-8496002897427603958</id><published>2009-05-10T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T01:04:10.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Fan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgfIbO5KUGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/0kgOpHWJyrA/s1600-h/scanned-56.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgfIbO5KUGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/0kgOpHWJyrA/s320/scanned-56.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334452653823512674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1978, my mother heard a song that she absolutely loved.  It was called "Aubrey" and she decided on that day that was what she would name her first daughter.  She was twelve years old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Mother's Day today, for those of you who aren't paying attention, and yes, I'm going to write a cliché blog about how much I appreciate my mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is the best mother in the entire world.  I know you hear that a lot, but mine is true.  From the cursive "I love you"s in my sack lunches to paying for my whole life, she's always been there for me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around my junior year of high school, I left my home church for another church.  I started just going for the youth group because of the fellowship there, but pretty soon I ended up going Sunday mornings.  I definitely took for granted the fact that my parents and I went to the same church every Sunday morning for 16 years of my life.  I missed looking over and seeing my parents there and just instantly feeling comfortable and safe.  I went with her today and I just love watching my mom worship (though I am just like her so it's a little weird).  But songs move her, sometimes even to tears.  During sermons, she takes notes and underlines and stars things in her bible.  She says "amen" when a good word is spoken.  She asks for prayer when someone she loves needs it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my mom.  So much.  She is so important to my family.  From the "ask your mother"s that my sister and I get all the time from my dad to her waiting up on the couch until we get home, she loves this family with all she has and shows it.  She is humble, and caring, and is always encouraging us to do our best, whether with school or things in everyday life.  Everyday she would surprise us with things she would remember that we had forgotten.  Either money for school that we needed or washing certain clothes for a spirit day or even making breakfast.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom didn't spoil my sister and me, but showed us the all the love we could ever need growing up.  She would be there when you came stumbling into the house with a bleeding elbow and tears and snot coming out of your face and she would be there when your "friends" in junior high did something mean that didn't make any sense.  When devastating things happen, there's a place inside of you that aches for your mother.  I remember last year when my great-grandma died, I was in Redding and my mom was in Hollister and that was hard to go through without her.  Luckily, I have really good friends who came by my side in a heartbeat, but I still hurt for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never realized how lucky I had it growing up.  My parents are still together and love each other very much (that is a huge lesson in itself) and they raised my sister and I in a Christian home.  Not until I was older did I realize what a blessing this is; I thought it was annoying growing up.  We didn't get to go to certain places or dress up for Halloween or watch certain movies.  But I see now that the sheltering was in their best interest and if they hadn't enforced those rules, I wouldn't be who I am today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been looking at life a little differently.  Call it maturity (finally) but I'm realizing that doing the dishes before my mom gets home from work really does make a difference.  Not arguing with my sister over the dumbest things really does make a difference.  Using a little less sarcasm really does make a difference.  I realized that I love unity way too much to let worldly things like that consume me and cause division. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Perfect Fan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Backstreet Boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It takes a lot to know what is love&lt;br /&gt;Its not the big things, but the little things&lt;br /&gt;That can mean enough&lt;br /&gt;A lot of prayers to get me through&lt;br /&gt;And there is never a day that passes by&lt;br /&gt;I don't think of you&lt;br /&gt;You were always there for me&lt;br /&gt;Pushing me and guiding me&lt;br /&gt;Always to succeed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You showed me&lt;br /&gt;When I was young just how to grow&lt;br /&gt;You showed me&lt;br /&gt;Everything that I should know&lt;br /&gt;You showed me&lt;br /&gt;Just how to walk without your hands&lt;br /&gt;cause mom you always were&lt;br /&gt;The perfect fan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has been so good&lt;br /&gt;Blessing me with a family&lt;br /&gt;Who did all they could&lt;br /&gt;And I've had many years of grace&lt;br /&gt;And it flatters me when I see a smile on your face&lt;br /&gt;I wanna thank you for what you've done&lt;br /&gt;In hopes I can give back to you&lt;br /&gt;And be the perfect son (*cough* daughter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You showed me how to love&lt;br /&gt;You showed me how to care&lt;br /&gt;And you showed me that you would&lt;br /&gt;Always be there&lt;br /&gt;I wanna thank you for that time&lt;br /&gt;And I'm proud to say you're mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cause mom you always were,&lt;br /&gt;Mom you always were&lt;br /&gt;Mom you always were,&lt;br /&gt;You know you always were&lt;br /&gt;cause mom you always were... the perfect fan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if that's a Backstreet Boys song. :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgfIEo8AXKI/AAAAAAAAAGA/REeLPhVBb_4/s1600-h/me+and+mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 311px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgfIEo8AXKI/AAAAAAAAAGA/REeLPhVBb_4/s320/me+and+mom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334452265677773986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please ignore the hair and the braces.  I love you, Mom.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-8496002897427603958?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/8496002897427603958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/perfect-fan.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8496002897427603958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8496002897427603958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/perfect-fan.html' title='The Perfect Fan'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgfIbO5KUGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/0kgOpHWJyrA/s72-c/scanned-56.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-7453200106630878400</id><published>2009-05-08T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T23:11:00.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trust.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgUbMCrrJpI/AAAAAAAAAFo/uyeBiU2R8LQ/s1600-h/father-daughter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgUbMCrrJpI/AAAAAAAAAFo/uyeBiU2R8LQ/s320/father-daughter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333699227382654610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You say, I've got you my baby, oh I've got you;&lt;br /&gt;it's quite the mess you're in, but it's nothing Love can't fix.&lt;br /&gt;So sit here upon my shoulders, and watch as it all unwinds..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to believe that. This is where I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-7453200106630878400?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/7453200106630878400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/trust.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/7453200106630878400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/7453200106630878400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/trust.html' title='Trust.'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SgUbMCrrJpI/AAAAAAAAAFo/uyeBiU2R8LQ/s72-c/father-daughter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-3955992232408686062</id><published>2009-05-01T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T23:43:26.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard Things</title><content type='html'>So I'm sitting here on my couch, joking around on Facebook, and pretending like nothing is wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But things are wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is watching this documentary about a family whose oldest son set the family up to be killed as they walked through the front door of their own home.  A armed man was waiting inside as the youngest son walked through the door.  The father barely survived, and the mother and younger son were killed.  This makes me sick.  I'm sitting here crying as the oldest son, Bart, tells a reporter about how he planned it all...how the four of them were sitting at a restaurant eating dinner just minutes before it happened...how his brother Kevin looked up to him and was the one who was shot first...how he had the shooter shoot him in the arm to make Bart look innocent...how he stayed with his dad for six months acting like the perfect comforting son and lying to his face...how that wasn't the first time he planned that attack...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to turn it off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't even the reason I started writing this blog.  But how does someone do that?!  You can't blame it on the family; they loved him.  They were even a strong, Christian family.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, one thing that did impress me was the father of that family--I think his name was Kent.  He was a strong Christian, God-centered man.  On the same night that he and his family were shot, he asked God for the strength to forgive whoever did this to his family.  As Bart was talking to the lawyer from death row in Texas, he said that before his dad found out who the killer was, he had truly forgiven them.  And that he truly forgave him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it makes me sick to see the son so calm about telling the story and seeing the pictures of his mutilated brother...I just wish that there wouldn't be this kind of hurt and pain and cruelty in the world.  I wish that people could see that Jesus is the only way and I wish that they would model their lives after Him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry; I just wanted to rant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I am watching D2 (Mighty Ducks 2) now.  And what this blog started out to be was me talking about how hard things don't always look the same.  Or at least in my life.  I always think it's going to be some huge, gigantic, I-am-big-huge-ugly-and-scary thing, but usually, it sneaks right past me and all of a sudden I'm faced with it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this time, I was sooo not expecting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My current problem goes something like this: To set the background, my dad tore his ACL in his right knee.  He has been hobbling around on crutches and denying the fact that he now needs help to do things.  I've been trying to be helpful because I am now on Summer Vacation and my mom and my sister still work and go to school (my mom is a teacher).  SO, I was planning on going to the When God Dreams Conference in Redding from May 7th-9th.  I had everything worked out: I was going to stay with Jenna at the Gafner's, it was going to be epic because I knew the speakers would be great and the worship would be great...then, I was talking to my mom about it, and I mentioned the dates.  She says, "The 7th-9th?! Oh no."  So I said, "No, I'll be back before Mother's Day."  "No, no..it's not that...it's just that dad's surgery is the 5th and I'll be needing your help..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So like I said, I did not see this one coming.  I have to choose between helping my dad after his surgery and a mind-blowing weekend learning about God...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;awesome&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm trying to not be too hasty about anything, but I realized I hadn't blogged in awhile and this is big.  So thanks for listening--er--reading. :T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-3955992232408686062?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/3955992232408686062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/hard-things.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/3955992232408686062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/3955992232408686062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/05/hard-things.html' title='Hard Things'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-8922451229724656619</id><published>2009-04-09T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T16:28:44.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Formal</title><content type='html'>I went to a dance tonight. I abhor dances usually; half because I can’t dance and I feel like a fool dancing around not knowing what I’m doing, and half because of past experiences (long story-not the time) BUT this dance was just great!! I kind of already miss it. There was the perfect amount of people there: any more and it would’ve been too crowded and any less and it would have been lame. It was epic. Let me describe the night to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:02pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hug Jenna tightly and bid her, Becky, and Hannah goodbye as they leave for the Stirring Women’s Retreat for the weekend. I run up the stairs two at a time, fully aware that I am way later than I should be, and as I cross the threshold into my room, I realize what I’ve gotten myself into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_M70cv8mI/AAAAAAAAADY/QUsxiV-bSmY/s1600-h/P4030033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_M70cv8mI/AAAAAAAAADY/QUsxiV-bSmY/s320/P4030033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323198612638790242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:03pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clothes, shoes, nail polish, curling irons, flat irons, cotton balls, makeup brushes, and Pirates of the Caribbean greet me at the door. I step over Eleanor and then Hannah on the way to my closet to begin the beautifying process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:11pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danae is trying on dress after dress after earring after earring after shoe after shoe and asking our opinions as Hannah, Eleanor and I scramble around searching for the shade of nail polish that will complement our dresses best. We decide that Teri’s dress is the winner and Danae’s beautiful Portland thrift store $10 dress will be saved for a later date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:30pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danae has joined us in our nail-polishing endeavors. Eleanor gets up to take a shower before the dance as she walks on her heels to the bathroom so as to not smudge the purple polish. Just then, Stefani bursts through the door. Exasperated, a glimpse of relief flashes across her face as she spots the bottles of nail polish scattered across the bed, and with a pleading smile, asks if I could paint her nails with a French tip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:15pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie starts curling Eleanor’s hair and we realize that we really only have 15 minutes until we are supposed to meet up with the boys outside. Full panic mode initiated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve now realized that we are so not on time. I’m running from room to room like a chicken with its head cut off. I made sure to shave my legs that morning (which was brilliant by the way) so I had that done. I bought my dress and shoes and had them ready so that was done. But I had NO idea what to do about my hair or makeup, and neither of those I am any good at. SO I bolted to Danae’s room: no sign of her anywhere. I ran to Hannah and Marissa’s room: aha! Lo and behold, Hillary, Stefani, Hannah, Marissa, AND Danae were in the bathroom getting ready. I start looking for advice by pretending to cry and I get comments on how pretty my dress is (which it is a really pretty shade of deep blue) and Marissa says that she has kind-of-tacky-but-cute-none-the-less eye shadow that matches really well that she can apply for me. Hooray! One down, one to go. Danae then decides something can be done with my hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:45pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us but Cynthia and Katie are outside and ready to go. They tell us to go ahead to dinner. We then realize that we haven’t made reservations anywhere. Sushi is full, Red Robin is full, Olive Garden is full, and…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_VKWMBmhI/AAAAAAAAAD4/3WA3sLsl7KQ/s1600-h/2631_1114885466278_1051170072_30360386_8127844_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_VKWMBmhI/AAAAAAAAAD4/3WA3sLsl7KQ/s320/2631_1114885466278_1051170072_30360386_8127844_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323207658306640402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:15pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strings can take us! We (me, Eleanor, Danae, Hannah, Natalie, Jeff, James, Dustin [Lowe], and Eric) meet Hillary and Stefani’s friend Richard Gere (Caleb) and all sit down to dinner and laugh like crazy at everything that is said (which is not so unusual) and eat delicious Italian food and take pictures and videos and just love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:45pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive at the dance and stand in awe of the place it’s held. It’s a beautifully big building that has a gorgeous entryway (which faintly smelled of fish because the bottom floor is a restaurant—what’re you gonna do?) and a beautiful staircase. The formal is upstairs. Our anticipation builds as we ascend our way to the tippy-top. There’s a dance floor against the far wall on which people are more mingling than dancing. There’s a beautiful balcony (that was just the right temperature) to our right which overlooked a lake that reflected the stars and romance that some enjoy at Simpson. There’s a backdrop on the back wall, a white ruffled sheet for a cloud-like floor, a huge umbrella for lighting, and fun props to record the laughs during this event. There are hors d’oeuvres to our left for all our snacking needs. There are tables with white linen cloths that fill the middle of the room in case you dance-til-you-drop. It was a sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_VUHEgxTI/AAAAAAAAAEA/B6P2lZs2ZeA/s1600-h/n545213454_2499066_4345640.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 311px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_VUHEgxTI/AAAAAAAAAEA/B6P2lZs2ZeA/s320/n545213454_2499066_4345640.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323207826047288626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_VrCRlFHI/AAAAAAAAAEI/CLtPoGKYBLA/s1600-h/n533675740_2134639_1586430.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_VrCRlFHI/AAAAAAAAAEI/CLtPoGKYBLA/s320/n533675740_2134639_1586430.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323208219896910962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:00pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party has started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:15pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The DJ finishes his last song (the second to last was “Footloose” which was awesome!) and we take goofy pictures as we wind down after a long night of acting like 5 year olds dancing around the room and starving for attention. We head toward the cars and though normally we would go to Denny’s because, hello, it was a Simpson event, none of us were hungry. So we pile in the cars and laugh all the way to the dorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:40pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huddled in the parking lot like penguins hurting for warmth, we decide we are hungry but we definitely want to change into sweats before going anywhere or doing anything. So we shiver toward our respective dorms planning to go to Carl’s Jr. (It’s open 24/7.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:40am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now at Carl’s Jr., Eleanor, Danae, Hannah, Jeff, Dustin, Andrew, James, Eric, and I all sit around different tables (it’s not like it sounds: Jeff, Andrew, James and me at one; Hannah, Dustin and Eric at another; and Eleanor and Danae at a third) and talk about our lives and laugh. Gradually, some leave but others stay and don’t notice the time flying by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2:22am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We notice the time. Hannah and I are walking back to Morgan and are astounded that it is 2:22 in the am!! *stops dead in tracks with mouth agape* “TWO TWENTY-TWO?!” I believe were my exact words. Although, quickly followed by, “Ah, well, it’s Friday.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2:26am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty sure I’m asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know this blog wasn’t deep or anything that hugely reflected the inner workings of my mind and soul, but I thought I would display the amazing and unique pull of community on this campus. It is fantastic. And if I were other schools, I’d be jealous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-8922451229724656619?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/8922451229724656619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-formal.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8922451229724656619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8922451229724656619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-formal.html' title='Spring Formal'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/Sd_M70cv8mI/AAAAAAAAADY/QUsxiV-bSmY/s72-c/P4030033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-1849685115802701583</id><published>2009-03-23T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T12:13:46.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God is bigger than the Boogeyman.</title><content type='html'>2 Timothy 1:7 -- "For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been held captive by fears about myself for a long time...and I'm trying to let God pull me out.   It's going to be hard to live by God's standards and not listen to what other people say or think, but I'm going to try.   I need to learn that it's okay to have confidence and not worry about it getting shattered by others' judgments...that's the biggest thing for me right now: to accept me for who I am the way God defines me, not the way the world defines me.   Flaky, always late, procrastinating, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;enough&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to be okay with not being okay in the world's eyes.  I need to be not striving to be anything more than I am.  Saved by grace...not works, or looks, or skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He wants to speak life...he wants to speak life to her...to her.  He wants to speak truth...he wants to speak truth to her...to her...to her worth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-1849685115802701583?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/1849685115802701583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-is-bigger-than-boogeyman.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/1849685115802701583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/1849685115802701583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-is-bigger-than-boogeyman.html' title='God is bigger than the Boogeyman.'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-2617745739036369610</id><published>2009-03-16T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T11:12:33.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He knew.</title><content type='html'>Nathan Edwardson prayed for me yesterday at the Stirring morning service and he just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knew&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every thought I'd been thinking, every move I'd been pondering, every thought of the future I'd been wondering and worrying, every hurt I'd been feeling...he prayed it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....now, I don't want to assume anything, but I think that God has been placing those thoughts and lifting those hurts and fears and spilling them out of the front of my face and then he used Nate to speak truth into my life while those were lifted and raw.  Nate made a beeline for me; he HAD to know &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just wanted to lift up Nate and Godsip for a sec even though I don't know him, but I've heard and seen enough that let's me know that God is in him and working in him and through him for others.  And I'm very thankful for that. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/6256211786421865270-2617745739036369610?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/2617745739036369610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/he-knew.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2617745739036369610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2617745739036369610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/he-knew.html' title='He knew.'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-8185888001460726330</id><published>2009-03-09T23:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T23:35:32.285-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SbYKJVO_POI/AAAAAAAAACo/AscehbzCErI/s1600-h/DSCI0015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SbYKJVO_POI/AAAAAAAAACo/AscehbzCErI/s320/DSCI0015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311443965965188322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is always hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-8185888001460726330?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/8185888001460726330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/hope.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8185888001460726330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8185888001460726330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SbYKJVO_POI/AAAAAAAAACo/AscehbzCErI/s72-c/DSCI0015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-1089923383736273093</id><published>2009-03-08T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T19:03:08.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God is Moving...</title><content type='html'>God is moving in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the morning service of the Stirring with Katie and Nolan today for the first time.  Normally I go to one of the night services, but today I have Nite Life practice at 7 so both clash.  The service was really good.  The church building is one of my favorite sanctuaries I've ever been in.  It was open and fresh feeling with high-arching ceilings and pews (that were surprisingly really comfortable) and it just had a very homey feel to it.  Travis Osbourne preached on Jonah (obviously) but he talked about Jonah's anger at God because God stays in character.  He correlated it to other scriptures in the Bible and it was really great.  I LOVE hearing Travis Osbourne preach; he has such a gift and a love for God that so contagious when he speaks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, then TONIGHT I decide to go to the 5 and support Jenna and just go to the worship half, so I'm sitting kind of by myself next to an aisle and Jenna's empty chair (eagerly awaiting her return! :P) and then worship starts.  I think God speaks to me most through lyrics and songs and today he was shaking me awake and giving me such comfort and encouraging me to press on!  It seemed like the songs were written for me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"oh Lord, my rock, my strength in weakness, come and rescue me, o Lord.&lt;br /&gt;you are my HOPE, your promise never fails me, and my desire is to follow you forever.&lt;br /&gt;for you are good, for you are good, for you are good to me..." etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we sang "Majesty" again, and this one song that I wish i could remember the words to so I could write them here.  That one was like a punch in the gut.  So good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is stirring something in me.  He's stirring and tears are flowing and pain is lifting and it's an amazing thing....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....I love Jesus, this I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-1089923383736273093?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/1089923383736273093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-is-moving.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/1089923383736273093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/1089923383736273093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/god-is-moving.html' title='God is Moving...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-2644048127804298531</id><published>2009-03-07T23:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T00:21:41.752-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seek Me First</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Stand Amazed  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bring You my heart, I bring you my praise&lt;br /&gt;I bring You my broken dreams I've lost along the way&lt;br /&gt;I lift up my voice, I lift up my hands&lt;br /&gt;I lift up the moments in my life that I don't understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I lay it at the cross where I'm surrounded by Your grace&lt;br /&gt;And I marvel at the wonder of Your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand amazed, I stand in awe&lt;br /&gt;I stand forgiven in the midst of it all&lt;br /&gt;Before You I bow, before You I fall&lt;br /&gt;Blessed Redeemer, Sweet Savior of all&lt;br /&gt;I stand amazed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I offer You thanks, I offer my life&lt;br /&gt;I offer a sacrifice of praise when I'm scattered by the night&lt;br /&gt;For You are my shelter, You are my King&lt;br /&gt;You are the risen Son of God, the Lord of everything    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm standing at the cross where I'm surrounded by Your grace&lt;br /&gt;And I marvel at the wonder of Your love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand amazed, I stand in awe&lt;br /&gt;I stand forgiven in the midst of it all&lt;br /&gt;Before You I bow, before You I fall&lt;br /&gt;Blessed Redeemer, Sweet Savior of all&lt;br /&gt;There is life in His body, there is grace in His blood&lt;br /&gt;There is Peace for the sinner, given by God's love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand amazed, I stand in awe&lt;br /&gt;I stand forgiven in the midst of it all&lt;br /&gt;Before You I bow, before You I fall&lt;br /&gt;Blessed Redeemer, Sweet Savior of all&lt;br /&gt;I stand amazed, I stand in awe&lt;br /&gt;I stand forgiven in the midst of it all&lt;br /&gt;Before You I bow, before You I fall&lt;br /&gt;Blessed Redeemer, Sweet Savior of all&lt;br /&gt;I stand amazed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never actually understood how hard it is to be a Christian.  I mean, sure, Aubrey got picked on in middle and high school because she was a "goody-two-shoes" and people tried to pay her to say the "F" word.  But I've never really, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;truly &lt;/span&gt;understood sacrifice.  God has been laying things on my heart and bringing people to me to speak truth and life into my life.  I have never been so blind-sided....I can see him so clearly.  He's asking me to surrender things to him that I never would've expected him to want me to give up.  I need to pray and bask in his presence before anything, but just pray for me for wisdom...pray for me to stand firm in what I know is right...pray for me to not run from God's presence...pray for peace...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relevant C. S. Lewis quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;Nothing that you have not given away will ever be really yours.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;We are what we believe we are.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" class="body"&gt;What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry that was so long; they just all shouted truth at me.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, have a good daylight saving's night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-2644048127804298531?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/2644048127804298531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/seek-me-first.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2644048127804298531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2644048127804298531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/seek-me-first.html' title='Seek Me First'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-745745859683405909</id><published>2009-03-02T01:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T01:50:12.334-08:00</updated><title type='text'>GUESS WHAT!?</title><content type='html'>I learned...ish to play the guitar!!!!  Danae and I are basically rockstars.  We'll be going on tour next fall; tickets are on sale in the Owens Center!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, but seriously now.  We learned this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TRINITY by Jennifer Knapp&lt;br /&gt;You in the mirror starin' back at me&lt;br /&gt;Oh, conscience let me be&lt;br /&gt;To the pure, all things are pure&lt;br /&gt;To those who're defiled, unbelieving, nothing is pure&lt;br /&gt;Their minds, their conscience defiled&lt;br /&gt;They profess to know God&lt;br /&gt;But deceive Him by deeds all the while&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do I stand?&lt;br /&gt;On the rock or in the sand?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Holy Spirit won't You help me understand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy Spirit, won't You say a prayer for me?&lt;br /&gt;With your groanings&lt;br /&gt;My mind, my conscience defiled&lt;br /&gt;Send the blood of the lamb don't leave me in exile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was that promise on the cross at Calvary?&lt;br /&gt;Confess the Lord and the truth shall set you free (yeah)    &lt;br /&gt;Create in me a clean heart, O God&lt;br /&gt;Renew a steadfast spirit within me&lt;br /&gt;To my prayers you've always given heed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessed be thy God&lt;br /&gt;Who never turned away from me&lt;br /&gt;Hid his face from all my sin, forgot&lt;br /&gt;Forgot my iniquity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Go on and)&lt;br /&gt;Raise your hands sing praises to the Lord&lt;br /&gt;He is the King and He'll reign forevermore&lt;br /&gt;He died on the cross at Calvary&lt;br /&gt;He died to save a wretch like me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's beautiful.  You should hear Jenna and Danae sing it...UHmazing.&lt;br /&gt;Okay well I reeeeally should be doing homework...like a lot. ...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-745745859683405909?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/745745859683405909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/guess-what.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/745745859683405909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/745745859683405909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/guess-what.html' title='GUESS WHAT!?'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-4915826146322623429</id><published>2009-03-02T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T01:25:23.628-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Humbled by Your Majesty...</title><content type='html'>[[okay let me be the really random person I am and say that it's Dr. Seuss' birthday!! WOOT! Go, Dog, Go!!!...okay sorry back to reality :D]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stirring really touched me tonight...I decided that after rebelling against it for so long, that I am actually IN love with the Stirring.  The words that are spoken there are such truth!!  ...it's just great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one of the songs we sang tonight was one I used to sing at the church I grew up in.  I never fully understood the meaning until tonight...[it's sooo weird (and yet so refreshing) to hear songs in a different light after maturing in your faith...the lyrics are basically a slap in the face while yelling WAKE UP!  I just love it.]  I'm just going to type it here: :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAJESTY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Text"&gt;Here I am humbled by your Majesty&lt;br /&gt;Covered by your grace so free&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, knowing I'm a sinful man&lt;br /&gt;Covered by the blood of the Lamb&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've found the greatest love of all is mine&lt;br /&gt;Since you laid down your life&lt;br /&gt;The greatest sacrifice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Majesty, Majesty&lt;br /&gt;Your grace has found me just as I am&lt;br /&gt;Empty handed, but alive in your hands&lt;br /&gt;Majesty, Majesty&lt;br /&gt;Forever I am changed by your love&lt;br /&gt;In the presence of your Majesty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am humbled by the love that you give&lt;br /&gt;Forgiven so that I can forgive&lt;br /&gt;Here I stand, knowing that I'm your desire&lt;br /&gt;Sanctified by glory and fire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've found the greatest love of all is mine&lt;br /&gt;Since you laid down your life&lt;br /&gt;The greatest sacrifice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Text"&gt;Majesty, Majesty&lt;br /&gt;Your grace has found me just as I am&lt;br /&gt;Empty handed, but alive in your hands&lt;br /&gt;Majesty, Majesty&lt;br /&gt;Forever I am changed by your love&lt;br /&gt;In the presence of your Majesty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OHHHHHHHHHHH so good.  Lyrics can just tear me apart!!!  I love the humility it puts on me....how small I am...how loved I am.  I didn't know this song had that much power...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to share that with you and I hope you are also encouraged by the lyrics...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-4915826146322623429?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/4915826146322623429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/humbled-by-your-majesty.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/4915826146322623429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/4915826146322623429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/03/humbled-by-your-majesty.html' title='Humbled by Your Majesty...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-4583944323295214278</id><published>2009-02-27T01:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T01:38:11.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True Love</title><content type='html'>Okay.  I wonder all the time: does true love REALLY exist??  Is it just a thing made up for fairy tales--to break magical spells and make princes and princesses live happily ever after?  Is it limited to a man and a woman promising to spend the rest of their lives together until they get bored?  Is it pretending to be someone you're not to impress someone else?  Is it a woman who after seeing and talking to a man for ten minutes thinking "he is the one"?  Is it in the words "I love you"?  Is it all the things that this world offers us: vanity, selfishness, jealousy...??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.  It's none of those things.  What about a mother seeing her newborn son for the first time?  What about a father picking his crying daughter up and kissing the tears and the pain away?  What about sisters laughing all the way into the night about silly things?  What about an older brother coming to the defense of his younger brother against the bullies at school?  What about an elderly man whose eyes still sparkle when his wife of 50 years walks into the room? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, there is still something more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come close, listen to the story&lt;br /&gt;About a love more faithful than the morning&lt;br /&gt;The Father gave His only Son just to save us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The earth was shaking in the dark&lt;br /&gt;All creation felt the Father's Broken Heart&lt;br /&gt;Tears were filling Heaven's Eyes&lt;br /&gt;The day that True Love died, the day that True Love died&lt;br /&gt;When blood and water hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;Walls we couldn't move came crashing down&lt;br /&gt;We were free and made alive&lt;br /&gt;The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Search your heart, you know you can't deny it&lt;br /&gt;Come on, lose your life just so you can find it&lt;br /&gt;The Father gave His only Son just to save us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Earth was shaking in the dark&lt;br /&gt;All creation felt The Father's broken heart&lt;br /&gt;Tears were filling Heaven's Eyes&lt;br /&gt;The day that True Love died, the day that True Love died&lt;br /&gt;When blood and water hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;Walls we couldn't move came crashing down&lt;br /&gt;We were free and made alive&lt;br /&gt;The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Jesus is alive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is alive&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is alive&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is alive&lt;br /&gt;Jesus is alive&lt;br /&gt;Oh, He is alive&lt;br /&gt;He rose again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When blood and water hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;Walls we couldn't move came crashing down&lt;br /&gt;We were free and made alive&lt;br /&gt;The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come close listen to the story..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[[I love that song...AND I'm very excited that Phil Wickham is coming to Simpson for Genesis Weekend!! WOOT!]]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just wanted to blurt about that.  Think about this song when you think about Lent.  The world doesn't have anything to offer you in comparison with Jesus Christ.  None of this world is worth it.  Oh, I just read this somewhere: "It's easier to climb down a hill than it is to climb up.  But the view is from the top."  That quote spoke such truth into me...I'm always fighting and running away from the hard things, from the awkward, and from the pain.  But usually, you have to dig through the pain to find the deep, deep love....and believe me, it's all worth it. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-4583944323295214278?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/4583944323295214278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/true-love.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/4583944323295214278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/4583944323295214278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/true-love.html' title='True Love'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-2572927386139135238</id><published>2009-02-26T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T13:27:20.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just wanted to let you know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SacI6CNf7bI/AAAAAAAAABQ/v277cPooB7Y/s1600-h/daddy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 306px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SacI6CNf7bI/AAAAAAAAABQ/v277cPooB7Y/s320/daddy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307220478998343090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad took that beautiful picture at the top of the blog page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just thought I'd brag a little. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is him and me (I don't know the grammatically correct way to say that) a couple years ago in San Diego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I love my daddy.  The End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-2572927386139135238?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/2572927386139135238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-wanted-to-let-you-know.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2572927386139135238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/2572927386139135238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-wanted-to-let-you-know.html' title='Just wanted to let you know...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SacI6CNf7bI/AAAAAAAAABQ/v277cPooB7Y/s72-c/daddy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-9017920447527519479</id><published>2009-02-25T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T14:44:57.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lent. Lent. Lent, right, lent...</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to figure out what to do for lent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the old me would just say "GAH it started TODAY! I'm too late. I'll just not do it." But the NEW me is going to say "NO. I'm still doing it! So HAH!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any ideas??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenna was saying that last year, she took prayer on instead of giving something up.  I liked that idea.  Or maybe I'll give up movies.  Or fast food.  Sorry...talking out loud...well, typin--anyway, not important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me know if you have any really good ideas...well, I guess that would be kind of hard to do because you'd have to know the inner workings of my life to suggest something that would really be a good thing to give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might give up fast food.  I eat dinner in the caf like 2 or 3 times a week... A) I can't afford that, and 2) I think the caf inspires community...I love the community here; LOVE it.  The way we all rally around each other when others are in need...it's beautiful. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright.  Fast food it is. NO MORE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-9017920447527519479?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/9017920447527519479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/lent-lent-lent-right-lent.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/9017920447527519479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/9017920447527519479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/lent-lent-lent-right-lent.html' title='Lent. Lent. Lent, right, lent...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-5202121200385829380</id><published>2009-02-24T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T23:08:56.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pray for me...</title><content type='html'>I feel like I came to a place today where I finally FINALLY felt like I was moving forward.  I've been talking to Jenna about my life and my spiritual walk and my struggles and I was being transparent (which is the reason I started this blog--to be transparent with my peers and enhance community, sort of :P) and I was loving Jesus and beginning to not be afraid to tell the world...I was loving like God loves...I was being who I've wanted my entire life to be; I was the older college girl in church who seemed to have everything together, who knew what she wanted and wasn't worried about how or when she was going to get it: she was just moving forward and living while she walked with Jesus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as I was picking Cynthia up from a movie and getting cupcake mix from WinCo (I stayed in the car while Hannah went in), I all of a sudden felt as if I were going to faint.  I'd only felt like that one other time, and I had just finished giving blood (apparently I'm a "gusher") and it was in a public bathroom at my high school.  I made Hannah drive home because I didn't feel like that was safe at all, and then it only got worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for me that I feel better.  Jenna and I refuse to call it "sickness" because I will not give in!! So we're saying that I'm "uncomfortable" :P. So meanwhile, I'm stocking  up on Vitamin C and Acetaminophen.  And I've got V-8 Splash in the fridge.  Which I can't look at without laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-5202121200385829380?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/5202121200385829380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/pray-for-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5202121200385829380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5202121200385829380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/pray-for-me.html' title='Pray for me...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-4613804690620580402</id><published>2009-02-17T16:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T19:19:01.552-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='failure fear'/><title type='text'>Failure's Clutches...</title><content type='html'>It's an epidemic.  It's sweeping around campus like a bird looking for its prey.  It shows no mercy and consumes all who hesitate for a mere moment or have a pinch of doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of this.  I'm tired of seeing strong, Godly people falter under enormous pressures we can't escape...mounds and mounds of homework piling up on our desks, falling behind in things in which we used to excel, arriving late to important meetings, the heartache of splitting time between our friends and our significant others and work and play, having to deal with many life-and-death situations--all needing every bit of our attention--and being able to do nothing about them falling precariously to the "death" side, the fear of not measuring up and not being good enough, the immense pressure of pleasing people and impressing professors and bosses and friends and acquaintances and superiors and cracking under the pressure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all got to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been seeing this hurting behind the eyes of many, especially this week.  Very close friends of mine are terrified of being inadequate in the eyes of those they wish to impress...sometimes, this includes God.  One friend in particular said to me that she thought that even if God came down right now and said "You are fine. I love you" she would still feel like there is so much more she could be doing!  It's a sad truth that plagues all of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jenna and I were talking today about all of it and how it's going around and hurting those we care about (and us, too) and she said that she thinks that "Satan is trying to rob people of enjoying life."  I knew right when she spoke it that it was true, far truer than any of us are willing to believe or even acknowledge.  We've seen it in the faces of the beautiful woman who is crying tears of brokenness or in the man that doesn't know how to move on from the heavy feeling of failure on his shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to fix this or what to do while we watch it all happen, but be aware of the hurt.  Don't be afraid to encourage those you love and keep a firm two feet in your foundation of your love of Christ and his love for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-4613804690620580402?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/4613804690620580402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/failures-clutches.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/4613804690620580402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/4613804690620580402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/failures-clutches.html' title='Failure&apos;s Clutches...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-5095072240105720611</id><published>2009-02-15T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T17:02:37.509-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I love my friends...</title><content type='html'>Jesus loves me.  It blows my mind when I sit and think about how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;much&lt;/span&gt; in fact.  He gave me AMAZING friends.  I don't even know if I can put into words how much I love them.  But I can try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my friends:&lt;br /&gt;I love that you love me when I'm in an impossible mood.  I love that you care about me enough to check on me when I'm sick or to see if I'm up in time for class.  I love that you love me even when I make you watch Hot Rod a million times and I quote Pirates of the Caribbean all the way through.  I love that you drop everything and comfort me when I need you.  I love you for knocking sense into me when I'm being a ridiculous hormonal girl.  I love that you get food with me at insane hours of the night.  I love that you hang out with me even though I complain.  I love that you put up with my terrible driving even when the car goes into a snow berm.  I love that you quote inside jokes with me.  I love how you listen to my crazy cross-betweens and laugh when they're right on (which is very often :P).  I love that you laugh with me for hours about nothing.  I love that you sit up with me for years on youtube watching tons of Andy Samberg videos (So you're a dog, what's that all about??).  I love that you let me keep my window open at night even when there's a hurricane outside.  I love that you love me with all my faults. I love that you love me enough to drag me inside when I'm standing in the rain with bronchitis (yes, it's happened enough times that I can say that).  I love that you grab me a tea when you're in WinCo.  I love that you get me into Twilight and let me borrow you're Narnia series.  I love how well you know me!!!  I love that you can mock me for things that really bother me but play it up enough to make me laugh about it.  I love that most people in my life wouldn't understand us at all.  I love that we can talk with facial expressions.  I love that you encourage me so so so so so much in the way that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I thank Jesus for you everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are more, but I'm tired :) I love you guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-5095072240105720611?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/5095072240105720611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-love-my-friends.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5095072240105720611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/5095072240105720611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-love-my-friends.html' title='I love my friends...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-1908731750039958483</id><published>2009-02-10T16:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T16:44:32.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brownies, Cupcakes and Lovin'!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SZNw4t8JDdI/AAAAAAAAAA4/6IQUvzj3cDk/s1600-h/P7200280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SZNw4t8JDdI/AAAAAAAAAA4/6IQUvzj3cDk/s320/P7200280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301705306052038098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Danae and I are in Morgan's kitchen right now baking and baking and baking!!  Lemon cupcakes, chocolate cupcakes, funfetti cupcakes, and brownies!  Delicious.&lt;br /&gt;If the blog world didn't realize this, I love me some Danae. :)&lt;br /&gt;We're just talking and having fun and she's making me feel less sick.  So as I'm sitting here licking a spatula full of brownie batter, I'm thinking about friends: people we run to in situations of need and hurt expecting comfort and love in return...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thank God everyday for these.  If I didn't have my friends, I really don't know where I would be.  I just wanted to thank all of those who have touched my life in some way...you know who you are.  I couldn't live without you and I love all of you dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean for the blog to go in this direction, but it does what it wants. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-1908731750039958483?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/1908731750039958483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/brownies-cupcakes-and-lovin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/1908731750039958483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/1908731750039958483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/brownies-cupcakes-and-lovin.html' title='Brownies, Cupcakes and Lovin&apos;!'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XRByCQYxklE/SZNw4t8JDdI/AAAAAAAAAA4/6IQUvzj3cDk/s72-c/P7200280.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-244195698171527142</id><published>2009-02-10T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T10:22:54.358-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick apathy'/><title type='text'>Alone in my room with the sniffles and apathy in abundance...</title><content type='html'>I'm siiiiick. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of being so lazy and tired and apathetic about things going on in my life. For some reason I can't shake the feeling...being bored with life, not growing, not being responsible; it's exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be the person that people can count on.  I want to be the one people can trust and depend on.  I'm sick of being the flake, the "oh-it's-Aubrey-who-knows-when-she'll-get-here"...I need to be mature!  Why is it so difficult for me to just...strive to be better?  I want it with all my heart, but acting on it, putting into my life and keeping the healthy habits there...I hate being afraid that I'll be the one mom who forgets to pick up her kids at soccer practice or is late to their game, or accidentally blows off a friend in need, or any circumstances that have that sort of taint to it.  I don't want that for my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I'm also tired of closing off who I really am and what I really struggle with.  It's exhausting to pretend that everything is okay, so this blogging thing is going to be transparent.  I believe that transparency is really important for the Christian community because we need to encourage others...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm just waiting for my Geography class to start so I can take the quiz and go to the doctor.  Thanks for letting me ramble.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-244195698171527142?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/244195698171527142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/alone-in-my-room-with-sniffles-and.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/244195698171527142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/244195698171527142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/alone-in-my-room-with-sniffles-and.html' title='Alone in my room with the sniffles and apathy in abundance...'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6256211786421865270.post-8322530077549996705</id><published>2009-02-09T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T23:59:29.521-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><title type='text'>Boys like girls...or do they?</title><content type='html'>I don't know what to think anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is full of so many thick, heavy, ominous lies that I can barely see my true reflection through it all. I shouldn't be seeing a self-conscious, scared little girl that doesn't know if a man will ever want to unconditionally love her for as long as we both shall live; I should be seeing me...the true me with the light and the passion of Jesus shining through me...but it's tough for a woman to live in this present day, in the here and the now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, sure, we (as women) have considerably moved forward in the past 100 years; we can vote and bring home our &lt;strong&gt;own&lt;/strong&gt; bacon and we don't have to get married if we don't want to, but there is so much deceit in this world...or at least in our post-modern America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of the tabloids that say "if you're not a size one, you're a cow" and "look at how terrible this person looks without their make-up" and "point and laugh at her because she HAS values"...we now have to be blonde and drop-dead gorgeous and rich and "well-endowed" and rail-thin to get a second glance...or at least that's what the world tells us. Which I'm sick of. They're lies!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard in a sermon last Sunday that was based on Colossians 3:18-19, which states "Wives, submit to your husbands, as it is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and do not be bitter against them." Bill Giovanetti was talking to the men about loving their wives unconditionally and telling them to reach out and love their wives even when they don't love them at that moment. For some reason, this really scared me. I felt like no man could ever love me for who I am. It's really hard for me to realize that God, &lt;em&gt;ultimate&lt;/em&gt; perfection, could love me, and it's even harder for me to comprehend an imperfect man loving me for me. I mean, I realize that we are all human, and we can't POSSIBLY love unconditionally without having our own lives saturated with the love of Jesus Christ, but we all fail!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;strong&gt;then&lt;/strong&gt; I went and saw the movie "He's Just Not That Into You" tonight. Bad choice. Some parts were funny and harmless and I caught myself saying "oh, that's so true!" but it just unsettled my heart. I saw brokenness and hurting and people searching for something that they are never going to find in another human. It's painful to see that kind of yearning day after day. Unfortunately, I found myself in the same confusion: "Why would a man choose me above her? She can do this and this and that..."etc. ...it's just hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A married man in the movie had an affair. It was heartbreaking to see the wife go through that kind of intense pain! And it horrified me to think that that could one day happen to me or to you or even someone you know. It happens and it's sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY. Do guys even &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt; women? Do they see them as a possession? an accessory? a trophy? How about a companion? a lover? a friend? someone who can help them grow spiritually everyday in Jesus...that is how it was intended. We weren't supposed to live our lives comparing ourselves to other women who are more beautiful or more musically gifted or more athletic than we are. God made us who we are, and I need to learn to be fine with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH and &lt;strong&gt;another&lt;/strong&gt; thing! Girls are mean!! We toy with emotions, flirt with married men, batt our eyelashes, feign innocence, stab each other in the back for personal gain, make our brothers stumble...I'm sick of the reputation. I am more frustrated with women than I am with men. We need to be careful... I want to be a Proverbs 31 woman one day if it is in the Lord's plan to make me a wife. I want to love with my whole heart and not live in fear of rejection or belittlement or failure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then...I will strive to trust. To love and to have faith that wherever the Lord carries me, I will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I'm so scatterbrained. Gimme a break; it's my first blog. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6256211786421865270-8322530077549996705?l=aubreyraper.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/feeds/8322530077549996705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/boys-like-girlsor-do-they.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8322530077549996705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6256211786421865270/posts/default/8322530077549996705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aubreyraper.blogspot.com/2009/02/boys-like-girlsor-do-they.html' title='Boys like girls...or do they?'/><author><name>Aubrey Raper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04287845233737995486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0Oj5e44paY/TWoZsMNvZkI/AAAAAAAAAOE/Iyn57VcQnZA/s220/IMG_1593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
