<?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-9602369</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:00:35.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Realms of writing</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog is written by a woman, who longs to be a better writer, yet she is not sure what that means, or what she should write about.  There for, this blog is about life in Liana's head.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-2906389226732023612</id><published>2011-06-24T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T10:12:48.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday</title><content type='html'>Today, I miss the beach, and every so often when I'm outside, there is a smell in the breeze that reminds me of Tybee.  The weather in Bloomington today is just right!  Some times I wish it would stay like this more often.  It's in the 70's and there is a cool refreshing wind tossing my hair every which way.  It's nice! The sun is out and the sky is blue today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days have been ones for wishing that I had a boy friend to enjoy the summer with.  someone to share life with and some one who would be willing to travel last minute even, some times.  I wonder if I'll ever have a romantic relationship, or if I'll have a chance to be a wife here in this life? I'm hopefull but as of late, I have been discouraged and sad when ever I think about it.  I felt for some reason, it hit me really strongly right after we got back from our trip.  It felt particularly strong this time and I can't seem to shake it.  Dispite time with God and not spending any time watching sappy love story movies or shows,  I still feel a powerful longing to share my life with  a husband/boyfriend lately.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-2906389226732023612?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/2906389226732023612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=2906389226732023612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/2906389226732023612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/2906389226732023612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/yesterday.html' title='Yesterday'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4851055784286174643</id><published>2011-06-21T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T07:32:06.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, i woke on Tybee Island at around 7 am everyone else in the house had woke earlyer to see the sun rise  at the beach.  I got my things together and loaded most all of it into the car.  I left the car key on the desk in the entry and went to breackfast one last time at the breakfast club.  By this time they had come to see me as a familiar face.   I walked back to the beach cottage one last time and met up with lynne rebeca and ben who had finished packing things up.  We got on the road around 8:30 am we flew into atlanta at about 1:50 pm and purchased georga aquariam tickets.  WE SAW WHALE SHARKS!  After that we were all feeling a bit zonked.  Next,  Rebecca and Ben and I finally got to meet all of lynne's family and we got to see where she grew up.  It was fun to meet them, and understand through meeting them who Lynne is just a little bit more.  We had pizza, and sat and talked for a while.  We got to the hotel about 11:30 ish and did a final zonked goodnight and went to sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are back on the road again today and are hoping to be home in about an hour fourty five or 2 hours.  We are exited to see our kitties!  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4851055784286174643?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4851055784286174643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4851055784286174643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4851055784286174643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4851055784286174643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/sunday.html' title='Sunday'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3801015725993225015</id><published>2011-06-18T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T10:19:32.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>7th and final day at Tybee!</title><content type='html'>Well I didn't make time to blog yesterday, but it was a good day we went early to the west docks and went on board the sweet lowland boat,our captain's name was Harvey. We went at high tide, because that is when there is enough water in the marshes to get to the other islands that are around Tybee Island by water.  We saw lots of birds and fish and dolphins.  We came back to the island at noon and and had lunch on the dock at AJ's which is where Captain Harvey's boat is docked. Around two we headed back. after we got back everyone went to hang out on the beach at low tide. I stayed back to get a head start on packing. We all met up again for ice cream and a bit more shopping. Back at the beach cottage everyone got into full packing mode and pick up mode I finished up early and headed to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3801015725993225015?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3801015725993225015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3801015725993225015' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3801015725993225015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3801015725993225015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/7th-and-final-day-at-tybee.html' title='7th and final day at Tybee!'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4439456633116642300</id><published>2011-06-16T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T20:31:36.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I believe it is now the 6th day on this island! :)</title><content type='html'>Kind of a laid back day here on tybee island.  We started out slow road our bikes near the marsh area and then walked around a bit on the south beach.  We thought we might get icecream after that but it was closed so we made a trip to the IGA.  Came home then and had lunch.  I napped after that while everyone else went back to the beach.  They came back about 4:30 and we all went to get icecream I bought a few more things from the beach shops and then we went home put out fun beach dresses and close on and went to the crab shack for dinner.  Yumm!  Well now I'm bout ready to close my eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4439456633116642300?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4439456633116642300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4439456633116642300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4439456633116642300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4439456633116642300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-believe-it-is-now-6th-day-on-this.html' title='I believe it is now the 6th day on this island! :)'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-6177529973440979685</id><published>2011-06-15T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T20:38:06.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the fifth day of our stay on Tybee Island!</title><content type='html'>Day 5 on our stay on Tybee Island of corse starts with a good breakfast at breakfast club.  Today i brought along some reinforcements for breakfast.  Lynne and I are thinking about visiting the inside of the light house on the south side of the island.   I think it's one of my favoret light houses.  On the boat ride yesterday, we saw moma dolphins with their baby's and pelicans diving for food.  All of us had a good time.  Now Lynne and Rebecca are thinking about renting a jet ski, Ben and I said we would take pictures if they did that.  I think we have now began talking about a trip to Savannah and the Jazz Corner, yippy, I like Savannah.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we didn't get to Savannah today, because we were all extremely tired and needed to take a nap when we woke we headed to the ice-cream and sweet shop. After  that we got hush puppies from AJ's and then walked to the&lt;br /&gt;Beach,at this point it was dark and the moon was full and beautiful over the sea.  Lynne and I took pictures from the life guard chair.  They turned out well.  I found the timer on my camera,and, positioned the lens on Lynne Ben and Rebecca who were standing just under the moon in line with the reflection on the waves. Then I pressed the button and counted as I ran down to stand next to them. on the way down I fell down in the sand  but popped up and kept running and made it just in time to get a really great photo.  Lynne did the same with here camera we got some really awesome shots.  Lots of fun, and lots of laughing happened in the process.  The sand was cool and the night was warm the breeze was strong off the ocean and tastes of salt.  The moon gave some of our pictures the illusion of a sun set because it was so bright. We walked back to the cottage and are now about to call it a day. Thanks for a good day God!, and the photo opp! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-6177529973440979685?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/6177529973440979685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=6177529973440979685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6177529973440979685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6177529973440979685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/on-fifth-day-of-our-stay-on-tybee.html' title='On the fifth day of our stay on Tybee Island!'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3850796790507572591</id><published>2011-06-14T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T13:36:37.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tybee Day 4</title><content type='html'>Day 4 on Tybee Island. I woke at 7:30 and took in the locals and breakfast at one of the best places for it, The Breakfast Club. Good eggs good coffee and lots of people some visiting some who call this place home and some who call it home once a year. The three people I met today were all from major cities Boston, Atlanta and the owner who is originally from the Chicago area.  You can tell by the pace of the place that a city slicker is running it.  I think it's a good thing he is though because it stays busy and there is a line out the door every day.  I road back to the beach cottage, I like feeling the wind in my hair when I zoom down the road.  About an hour and a half later, we all went to do a bit more shopping.  We walked to the big peer and then went to lunch at Spanky's SeaFood galley and saloon.  It is right next to the beach and the the food was pretty yummy!  After lunch we road back and I am currently taking a brake from people and sun at the same time my traveling buddies decided to do more sea bathing and I decided it might be better for us all if I had some alone time.  :). Later on we are planning on taking a boat trip with Captain Mike, following that we will be having dinner, I hope, at AJ's which is located on the west side of the beach where the marsh area is.  We will eat dinner on the dock and watch the sun set.  There is more people on the island this year,last year we went in mid May and there was't the crowds on the beach like this year.  The evenings are better though, most people don't hang out on the beach in the late evening, just as the sun is about to go down, personally I think I like that time the best.  The sea when I am near it, makes me still and slow, it reminds me of a place I have not yet been, and speaks of the truth of it's reality.  The sea helps me to stop and consider it's creator.  :) &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3850796790507572591?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3850796790507572591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3850796790507572591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3850796790507572591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3850796790507572591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/tybee-day-4.html' title='Tybee Day 4'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-2410721080133734190</id><published>2011-06-13T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T19:17:33.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Third day at Tybee Island</title><content type='html'>Here we are in our third evening on type island.  We spent the day, at least Lynne and I, doing a bit of shopping. We decided to hide from the sun's rays today and boy I'm glad we did because it was hot hot hot!  We were out till 3pm after that we used the leasing office's computer and borrowed a movie and went to the post office.  We came home sprayed ourselves down with ice after burn spray and then we all 4 of us road our bikes to the North Beach bar and grill, ya it's a winner in my book and it is good eats.  While we were there a small thunder storm came through and cooled every thing off a bit.  We walked a bit tword the beach and watched the lightening near the beach we listened to the crashing waves and the wind blow across the tall grasses and palm trees.  Then we road home in the dark there were no wrecks though we did almost collide with an on coming   biker. We are back at our little beach cottage soon I think my eye lids will be in my way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-2410721080133734190?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/2410721080133734190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=2410721080133734190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/2410721080133734190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/2410721080133734190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/third-day-at-tybee-island.html' title='Third day at Tybee Island'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-923496201933134523</id><published>2011-06-13T06:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T06:28:56.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second day of our second trip to Tybee Island</title><content type='html'>It feels like I have been hit by a Mac truck this morning.  I guess what I mean is that the sleep  i just woke from was heavy.   The sun here is intense and gives energy, but some times it seems to take away my energy too . we road our red beach bikes to the north side of the island today, and went exploring the tide pools.  There furthest time to be out was at 11:45am. Rebecca is a great beach treasure finder and she spied many shells and sand dollars along with rays.  Lynne and I took pictures and worked hard trudging the sucky sand in the big tide pools making sure our cameras didn't get wet.  On our first day out unfortunately I and Lynne have been pretty sun burned.  We ended up stay out to long.  Oh during the first part of the day we did some body board surfing,the waves were great for it.  For dinner we ate fresh crab! It was tasty and messy.  So worth the mess though and the work it takes to get the meat out of the crab shell.  Now, I am very tired and looking forward to sleep.  We road to the south side of the island just before we headed for the crab shack so I am pretty sleepy.  Sleep I think, is going to over take me in a very short time.  Good Night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-923496201933134523?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/923496201933134523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=923496201933134523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/923496201933134523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/923496201933134523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/second-day-of-our-second-trip-to-tybee.html' title='Second day of our second trip to Tybee Island'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3616313069971998554</id><published>2011-06-13T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T06:24:59.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second visit to Tybee Island</title><content type='html'>Daily blog yesterday afternoon we began a road trip to tybee island in Georgia.  My friends and I spent the evening speeding down the highway to music.  All four of us seemed a little tired going into this trip.  Last night we stopped at a hotel.  I had found it on price line back in April.  Praise god for four star hotels at 40 bucks a night it is a really nice Marriott.  Marriott knows good sleep! :).  Currently I am sipping a bit of coffee in one of there fluffy sitting chairs next to my bed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made our arrival to the island at about 3:00 pm and promptly checked in with the office and the potty room. From there we headed to the local IGA and bought some food just a little for the times we don't eat out.  Then we headed to our home away from home it really does feel like a homie place here. The pace is slow and relaxed.  The place we are staying feels beach cottage-y and after we unloaded our travel gear into our home foe the week we promptly settled up with our really cool neighbor across the street, his name is Tim and he owns a bike and beach gear shop he rents every thing out to the visitors to the island.  So now we have our wheels for the week.  We have already road south and east of the island, and walked on the big peer where all the fish catchers hang out and the mate catchers too they were in full force this evening.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently all signs of wakens are fading into dream land, and now, I think I shall make my way to that unconscious state as well. Good Nite till tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3616313069971998554?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3616313069971998554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3616313069971998554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3616313069971998554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3616313069971998554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2011/06/second-visit-to-tybee-island.html' title='Second visit to Tybee Island'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-8685378220702885598</id><published>2010-03-08T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T11:18:57.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Kill a soul.</title><content type='html'>When I was young I think everything was new and it was easer to look with hope on the future. &lt;br /&gt;Now on the other hand, it seems it's harder to do so.  I don't think I should be having this issue.  If it weren't for a walk with God, my soul would be dead right now.  These days I feel like my insides are holding on by way of the tips of my fingers.  I feel my mind slipping slowly from the edge of the huge ravine that doesn't have an end.  Though part of me, probably the part of me that God occupies, says, "let go trust."  I'm not sure what it is I’m holding on too still.  Maybe it's marriage.  I don't want to lose hope for that though. The vast abyss of adventure calls to me to let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, I would climb the best trees in the neighborhood.  I often tried to find the highest limb I could jump out of with out hurting myself when I landed.  I loved climbing and jumping out of trees.  There was always that moment just before I leapt of, owowow…, you know the part where your breath catches, as you do something that might hurt and yet give you a rush of Joy and thrill.  It makes you smile, from the inside…  Some times I get what I call the silent version of that feeling.  It’s a chill that goes over your body when you hear or see something so beautiful that it moves you to tears or laughter, or the combination of both at the same time.  When I experience these times I feel as if my spirit is trying to leap out of my earthly bond.   I don’t experience that as much as I once did as a young woman.  I wonder if my soul is dying from stagnation and the humdrum of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-8685378220702885598?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/8685378220702885598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=8685378220702885598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8685378220702885598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8685378220702885598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-kill-soul.html' title='To Kill a soul.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-1353160538776292358</id><published>2008-12-03T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T11:05:24.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Denver Dancing</title><content type='html'>Samantha Fields said yes, when her friend asked her if she wanted to go dancing at a downtown café in Denver.  Her friend assured her that there were lessons before hand, and you didn’t need a partner.  Samantha grew up listening to the greats, Count Basie, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, and Benny Goodman.  But, until the night that she went dancing with her friend, she hadn’t fully appreciated what she loved listening too so much. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The cover charge was seven dollars, and that included an hour of east cost swing lessons, and a live big band performance following, where Samantha practiced what she had just learned in the lesson. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It was a welcoming community of people these dancers. She met a few men that had been dancing for years, and said how exited they were that the young people were starting to really dance again.  One gentleman in particular named Max, who, she noted, could kick his legs up higher than she could and never seemed to tire.  He danced every dance, and on that first night was pleased to dance with her at lest twice.  Not once did she sit a dance out that evening, there was always a gent who asked her if she would dance with them.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;That night Samantha fell in love.  She walked out of that Denver Café with the biggest grin on her face and a little bounce in her dance step.  She felt the high of a runner after a race.  Her excitement about dancing was beating hard upon her chest, and her mind danced the east cost swing over and over in her head, until she had the steps perfectly.  Was this a taste of being perfectly romanced, She wondered.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;After that night she bought a pair of dancing shoes, and a twirly skirt.  She began to go dancing at the café three to four nights a week, she took Saturday dance work shops and looked for other places to dance as well.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;She recalls a few times dancing at the café when she and a few of the guys would soon have a circle of watchers surrounding them, “it was like a dream, or something out of one of those old musical shows,” “you know the ones, where Fred Astaire, and Ginger Rogers have the dance floor all to themselves, and everyone else is in awe as they glide effortlessly across the dance floor.” “At the end there is an explosion of applause!”&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Samantha says, “Dancing, helped change my life, it gave me confidence, and it helped me to feel feminine, it taught me not to be shy about being a women, but to except it, and use it wisely.”  She would recommend dancing to every woman. She says,” P.S. Men, really good way to romance your girl”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-1353160538776292358?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/1353160538776292358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=1353160538776292358' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1353160538776292358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1353160538776292358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/12/denver-dancing.html' title='Denver Dancing'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3416902189962203693</id><published>2008-10-27T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T09:22:21.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I remember!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SQXjk-4ImqI/AAAAAAAAAFI/iOUODRfqYZE/s1600-h/269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SQXjk-4ImqI/AAAAAAAAAFI/iOUODRfqYZE/s400/269.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261861964145531554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn, is my favorite time of the year! It always has been ever since i was a little girl. I like so many things about it. I like the smells and the way the summer heat slowly leaves and I like that the days grow shorter. I love that the air starts becoming crisp. I like that traditionally this time of the year was harvest. Everything is ready to be picked, the grapes, the apples the pumpkins and squash, the veggies from the garden, corn, tomatoes. It is time for bonfires and hay rides, corn mazes and jumping in piles of leaves that are orange,yellow, brown, red and green that have fallen with the autumn Breeze. The rain starts to come more often. I get to stop wearing sandals and start wearing shoes, pants, long sleeve shirts, sweaters, jackets,galoshes, and by far the most romantic part of the year for me is Autumn. I don't know why, but I have always felt that way, the best part of that is that it is not because of any guy here on earth that I feel this way, I think it, because God has always been the one to romance me so well and to know me so well and he knew this time of the year would be a reminder of Him, and how much He loves me! I remember when I was a kid, this was the time of year my family and i would rake the leaves into leave mazes all over the front and back yard. I remember a year when I and a group of friends sat on a cliff that over looked the lake, the night sky was clear and cloudy at the same time, and there was heat lighting behind the clouds, and the smell of camp fires in the air. It was beautiful. I remember nights in autumn when I would sit out on my back deck and watch the sun set behind the mountains. There was a warm cool Breeze, and i loved the feel of it tossing my hair about. I always felt it was God sitting close to me playing with my hair, letting my know that he was right there and that he loved me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3416902189962203693?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3416902189962203693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3416902189962203693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3416902189962203693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3416902189962203693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-remember.html' title='I remember!'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SQXjk-4ImqI/AAAAAAAAAFI/iOUODRfqYZE/s72-c/269.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4521581221770554092</id><published>2008-07-28T06:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T07:04:35.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>still thinking about Ghana!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SI3R4LD4dkI/AAAAAAAAAEY/TB9H5c4GK1A/s1600-h/093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SI3R4LD4dkI/AAAAAAAAAEY/TB9H5c4GK1A/s200/093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228065505418966594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SI3RL2hWZmI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/0WoCt2yG9eI/s1600-h/064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SI3RL2hWZmI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/0WoCt2yG9eI/s200/064.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228064743991174754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4521581221770554092?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4521581221770554092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4521581221770554092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4521581221770554092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4521581221770554092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/07/still-thinking-about-ghana.html' title='still thinking about Ghana!'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SI3R4LD4dkI/AAAAAAAAAEY/TB9H5c4GK1A/s72-c/093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4448953897058418461</id><published>2008-07-17T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T21:30:43.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SIAcSLoFTOI/AAAAAAAAAEI/4aVwMEoYsRU/s1600-h/147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SIAcSLoFTOI/AAAAAAAAAEI/4aVwMEoYsRU/s200/147.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224206666433907938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SIAb70b0FRI/AAAAAAAAAEA/gUOjrIPLBXs/s1600-h/094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SIAb70b0FRI/AAAAAAAAAEA/gUOjrIPLBXs/s200/094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224206282251310354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few more pics. from ghana:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4448953897058418461?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4448953897058418461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4448953897058418461' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4448953897058418461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4448953897058418461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/07/few-more-pics.html' title=''/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SIAcSLoFTOI/AAAAAAAAAEI/4aVwMEoYsRU/s72-c/147.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-8661261899042605595</id><published>2008-07-15T05:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T06:32:12.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>back from Ghana :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SHyf0YzZ0rI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aVEF07Kx7eU/s1600-h/089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SHyf0YzZ0rI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aVEF07Kx7eU/s200/089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223225390202999474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SHyfE2OqwAI/AAAAAAAAADw/nO5JSODAzRE/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SHyfE2OqwAI/AAAAAAAAADw/nO5JSODAzRE/s200/031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223224573468262402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some of the kids, and the women's living space, us after a day of lifting cement blocks and painting.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-8661261899042605595?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/8661261899042605595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=8661261899042605595' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8661261899042605595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8661261899042605595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/07/back-from-ghana.html' title='back from Ghana :)'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/SHyf0YzZ0rI/AAAAAAAAAD4/aVEF07Kx7eU/s72-c/089.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4219441702819744838</id><published>2008-06-20T03:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T03:40:54.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>legalism and humblness</title><content type='html'>Luke 14: 1-10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus at a Pharisee's House &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 1One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched. 2There in front of him was a man suffering from dropsy. 3Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in the law, "Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?" 4But they remained silent. So taking hold of the man, he healed him and sent him away. &lt;br /&gt; 5Then he asked them, "If one of you has a son[a] or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull him out?" 6And they had nothing to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 7When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable: 8"When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. 9If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, 'Give this man your seat.' Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. 10But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, 'Friend, move up to a better place.' Then you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow guests. 11For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4219441702819744838?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4219441702819744838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4219441702819744838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4219441702819744838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4219441702819744838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/06/legalism-and-humblness.html' title='legalism and humblness'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-6568315369591076149</id><published>2008-04-21T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T20:11:18.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorado</title><content type='html'>In the fall of 1995 I attended vincennes University. I studied sign language and English. All that semester, I was not motivated, and I had decided that I didn't know what I wanted to major in. As December came around I had decided not to go back second semester. That first semester was already really expensive, and I didn't want to spend more money when I had know idea what I wanted to do. I moved back home, and got a job at Wall-mart as a night st ocker in the craft and fabric department. I hated it, and worst of all I felt like I was a failer. At that point, sense i was working at night and sleeping during the day I really did not have a group of people to fellowship with. Also, all my friends had moved away to collage or got married and started having kids. In July of 1996, I decided to take advantage of my Aunt and Uncle's offer to come stay with them in Colorado, I remember making the chose as a response  to feeling like I was too comfortable just living at home. I love my parents don't get me wrong, and I know that they would have let me stay there for as long as I needed but I knew that if I wasn't going to collage, that I need to get out from under their wings and take my own steps Of faith.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-6568315369591076149?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/6568315369591076149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=6568315369591076149' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6568315369591076149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6568315369591076149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/04/colorado.html' title='Colorado'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-736016491113911911</id><published>2008-03-21T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:48:15.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Child</title><content type='html'>I remembered today, about when my life was younger. I remembered the first time I heard and believed the song about the greatest love ever. Every time I hear it I remember when Our God called me to be His own. "what can wash away my sin? nothing but the blood of Jesus, what can make me whole again nothing but the blood of Jesus,oh precious is the flow that makes me white as snow no other fount I know nothing but the blood of Jesus." It was on that day... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand before the cross of my savor Jesus Christ,&lt;br /&gt;the One who has take my sin apon himself. &lt;br /&gt;I fall too my knees and his blood pours apon me, &lt;br /&gt;it runs over me,and covers me. &lt;br /&gt;My head is wet with his crimson love.&lt;br /&gt;I feel it run down my face it falls&lt;br /&gt;from my chin down my chest it flows down, &lt;br /&gt;and washes my feet.&lt;br /&gt;ah great love how beautiful the act you have bestowed&lt;br /&gt;apon this sinful wretch.&lt;br /&gt;Thank You Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-736016491113911911?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/736016491113911911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=736016491113911911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/736016491113911911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/736016491113911911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/03/child.html' title='A Child'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-1775077516181600517</id><published>2008-03-17T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T20:07:10.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Where New</title><content type='html'>The sign up sheet for Ghana is on a table in the gathering space, anyone thinking about going should sign up. There will be an informational meeting next Sunday directly after the second service in room seventeen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually the sign up sheet had been there for a few weeks. I think the first time I thought about it was last week. I don't know why I thought of it but I right away made a beeline to the table when I did. I have always wondered about where David and Brenda lived, ever sense I first heard their stories. Over the years I have continued to hear stories and praises of what God is doing in Ghana through them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked into that first meeting, i felt myself a bit nerves, and exited I guess. My house mate Lynne ended up being there, I felt a sense of encouragement knowing that God had lead her to possibly consider taking this trip as well. It was just an intro meeting. We got a basic idea of what we would be doing there, how long, what the conditions would be like, where we would be flying into,and expenses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-1775077516181600517?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/1775077516181600517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=1775077516181600517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1775077516181600517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1775077516181600517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/03/some-where-new.html' title='Some Where New'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-7239380586167582500</id><published>2008-01-07T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T08:34:03.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In the quiet</title><content type='html'>Well it's a new year 2008, and my friend Rebecca, said that an even number year is a good one, I hope so.  Personaly I like the number 8.  I want to start this new year blog post by saying, that I am really thankfull for the family He has given me, I feel so blessed.  Second, I want to say that I am so very greatfull for Lynne and Rebecca.  Lynne and Rebecca are my house mates, we have now been house mates for three summers now.  Not only are we house mates, but we have become family, sisters in Christ and friends.  I thank God, because before we became house mates I had been praying that he would provide women who loved Him to share a house with and he provided way past my expectations.  As iron sharpens iron, so do the three of us sharpen one another, and push each other to persue Jesus Christ. I feel that God has worked out somthing really amazing between the three of us.  Also the three of us are praising God because this past weekend we signed a lease for a second year at the town home we moved into just this last August.  This means there will be no moving this year.  we are going to have a great party in Augsut to celebrate this wonderfull event that is not happening this year in the normal month that it would have happened.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit hear thinking about these things, these good things in my life, I feel my heart smiling with in me, and true joy fills me, joy that only comes from knowing  Jesus Christ, the creator of life.  I have been feeling Gods silence for awile, distant from Him, but the truth is that he is still here with me he is just waiting for me to be still, and to look and see what he has done, and when I see it to remember that He has done it, and that sometimes when it seems that he is quiet ,that is when we need to become quiet to hear What he is saying.  I have also learned that I have to chose to walk in faith, chose to keep going.  he has given us a chose.  Thinking about this exites me, and scares me just because a chose is like a great gift, that can back fire, and be horible, but because of Gods Grace though His Son Jesus Christ We can chose to believe in Him, and walk with him, and be changed by Him and He will guied our steps.  I know He will help me not to give up, but to persavear and walk on, keep going.  though I am weary and flawed by sin, he is my strangth and hope, the reason I will not give up.  I love You Oh my God, I thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-7239380586167582500?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/7239380586167582500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=7239380586167582500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/7239380586167582500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/7239380586167582500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-quiet.html' title='In the quiet'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-100240861308510410</id><published>2007-11-24T09:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T09:44:09.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving.</title><content type='html'>It was a good day. My Housemates and I woke not so early in the morning and made some pies and casaroles, and mash potatos.  we watched the thanksgiving day parade on tv. We made phone calls to family members, to say happy thanksgiving, and we were just happy to be spending it together again this year.  Along with Ben Martin who had joined us last year for thanksgiving as well.  At 1:00 pm we made a trip over to Jeff Yoders place to join his family for thanksgving dinner along with Joni, and about four of her friends.  It was a good day. The last event of the evening was a crazy game of charades.  I haven't played that in awile.  I think we should play that game more often, it challenges people to get out of their comfort zone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Heavenly father, for good fellowship, for laughter, and food, for a day to just be thankfull for the abundence of blessing that you have laveshed on us through your son Jesus Christ.  what grace, what beautiful grace you give.  Thank you Jesus!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-100240861308510410?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/100240861308510410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=100240861308510410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/100240861308510410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/100240861308510410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3388761329253628633</id><published>2007-11-20T06:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T06:43:44.196-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He says, " Ride out with me"</title><content type='html'>"Ride out with me" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  1 peter 4  Therefore since Christ suffered in His body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3388761329253628633?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3388761329253628633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3388761329253628633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3388761329253628633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3388761329253628633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/11/he-says-ride-out-with-me.html' title='He says, &quot; Ride out with me&quot;'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4606657781579867308</id><published>2007-11-15T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T20:02:11.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eddie and Zach</title><content type='html'>I love my family, and praise God for giving them to me they are such a good gift. I see my fathers side of the family quite a bit more than my mothers side of the family. The Vela's live three and a half hours away where as the wiesters live thirteen and a half hours away. This past weekend I Had a chance to tag along with my parents to visit the family in Nebraska, for an early Thanksgiving gathering. Kearney Nebraska has grown sense I've been there five years ago, and so have my little cousins. The bad thing about living so far away is that my younger cousins really don't know who I am, in fact they had a hard time remembering my name, I guess most people do anyway, but I guess it would be even harder to remember someone you never see and who is way older then they are. Not as cool because I'm an adult, and far removed from what it is like to be a kid. Well, if anyone knows me they know that I look younger then i am and I'm guessing the reason is that I am a kid at heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a chance to make a memory with Zach and Eddie, one I am sure they will remember, I hope. My house mates and I are fans of the show called mythbusters. It is on every Wednesday evenings at 9pm, if anyone doesn't know this show it is kind of a science/ special affects/comedy program on the discovery channel. One of our favorite shows was the one where they made a geyser out of 2 leader diet coke and mentos, they discovered the reason why the combination of the mentos and the diet coke was so explosive. Anyway this past weekend, Nick, Kate and I, they are a bit older, and have a little more memory of who i am, anyway we were in the mall walking around kind of waiting for our mothers who were shopping and We came upon a toy store which I spotted across the Mall I said lets go to the toy store. While we were in there nick spied a package with a plastic tub and a package of mentos. He showed it to me and asked what is this. I knew what it was right away, and got exited. I told them about the show, and all three of us bought one. We went back to grandma and grandpa's. There, we snagged some little bottles of diet coke that uncle Steven had brought. Of course Eddie and Zach were curious, and wanted to know what we were up to. With a small bottle we only got up too about 7 feet and we only used two mentos. So it was a bit weak, but I had Eddies and Zach's attention, and I had just become a bit more cool. I think one of them actually asked me how Old I was, when I told them, they said "really you don't seem that old." We tried the diet coke and mentos geyser three other times,the last one i would have to say was the most successful. I am happy to say, that next time I see Eddie and Zach, they will remember me. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4606657781579867308?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4606657781579867308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4606657781579867308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4606657781579867308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4606657781579867308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/11/eddie-and-zach.html' title='Eddie and Zach'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3070564460560758712</id><published>2007-11-10T05:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T05:55:17.405-08:00</updated><title type='text'>gentle reminders of his glory on the mountain</title><content type='html'>This is the nearest I’ve been to the mountains, sense I left them five years ago.  One of these days I pray that I will be able to get back there.  Just to remember and see the place again, a place I stayed so long.  I want to visit my family there, let them know that I have not forgotten them, Mel, Ken, Mary, Chris, Monica, Kara and Angelina.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly remember what they looked like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the former self they have faded into my memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a danger in forgetting what was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we forget will we not fall back into what we were before?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, you have never let me go, have you Lord? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see too where you have brought me.&lt;br /&gt; When I think that I have forgotten the chains that I used to ware, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gently reminds me and leads me further into his arms of grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How rich I am in you God, how good you are to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worthy only through Jesus Christ and He is &lt;br /&gt;the way the truth and the life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mountain of God is closer to Him, and there is part of me that knows His presents is where I always want to be, but for now he has asked me to go to the valley.  There he has given me sack cloth to ware so that the reflection of his Glory, that comes when I get close to him, does not blind those who need to see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3070564460560758712?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3070564460560758712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3070564460560758712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3070564460560758712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3070564460560758712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/11/gentle-reminders-of-his-glory-on.html' title='gentle reminders of his glory on the mountain'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4547174239816344366</id><published>2007-11-07T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T20:19:01.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>science</title><content type='html'>On Wednesday evenings, we gather a group of who ever wants to join us for a discovery channel show called mythbusters, it's mostly a bunch of souped up science experiments and explosions. Great show! This evening, we did our own science experiment we saw it on mythbusters at the end of the summer. We wanted to see how high diet coke would really go when you stick mentos in it. we can attest to a definite diet coke launch of about 15 feet into the air . try this one at home, just wear rain gear, if you are the dispenser of the mentos into the diet coke bottle and run away quickly. Have fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4547174239816344366?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4547174239816344366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4547174239816344366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4547174239816344366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4547174239816344366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/11/science.html' title='science'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-8125786956225716658</id><published>2007-11-06T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T19:52:52.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He desires to know what I think and feel.</title><content type='html'>The kind of man that I want to marry, will respect and value my thoughts and feelings about life, and just stuff. I know, that at times he won't meet that need and I know that I won't always meet his needs the way they should be met, but here's the thing, If we are both pursuing God we can know that He is the one who is going to meet all our needs. I can know that the man that I am married too is not perfect yet, and that God is still working to create the man that he intended. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what does it mean for husbands to respect their wives, I think it means, that before they make decisions about things, they should consider what God might be saying to her about the event, or situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does it mean for wives to submit and respect their husband, well I am not entirely sure but, maybe part of submit and respect for husbands is letting them know by your actions that you trust Him to make the final call, and in that you submit your will to his, or the truth is when this happens and your both submitting to God and each other, your will becomes One In Christ Jesus. Anyway just some thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-8125786956225716658?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/8125786956225716658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=8125786956225716658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8125786956225716658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8125786956225716658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/11/he-desires-to-know-what-i-think-and.html' title='He desires to know what I think and feel.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-8024562500537688097</id><published>2007-10-30T20:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T21:06:25.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TV sucks your brains out</title><content type='html'>Remember when you were a kid, and your big brother, or in my case, uncle would put their hand on your head and say, "Oh no it's going to suck your brain out". You would laugh and say stop it, and push their hand out of the way. The truth is there is something that can suck your brain out, it is your TttttVvvvv. Now I'm not saying that while your sleeping it's going to come to life and get you, I'm just saying, that if you let it, it will, SUCK YOUR BRAIN OUT! If you let it, it will pull you in, and while your in, it will suck the life out of you. You will begin to feel uninspired, and lazy, you will stop thinking deeply, you won't feel like doing physical activities. The books you read will not be remembered, and in fact there will be more TV time, and less book reading. Don't let it happen to you, don't let your brain get sucked out. limit your times of staring at the brain sucker too one or two hours a day, and an occasional day with out is good as well, and if you must watch two hours a day at lest pick something like discovery channel, or history channel for an hour of that. Most important, don't forget to pick up a book once and awhile, so you can keep that brain in tacked, and safe "FROM THE BRAIN SUCKER."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-8024562500537688097?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/8024562500537688097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=8024562500537688097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8024562500537688097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8024562500537688097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/tv-sucks-your-brains-out.html' title='TV sucks your brains out'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-5130850180819067918</id><published>2007-10-29T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T20:39:32.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>words don't come</title><content type='html'>Here I am again, standing with a group of peers. I listen as the topic of the evening is discussed and pondered everyone seems to have a thought about it, except me. The truth is I do have thoughts about this subject, in fact I have questions too. Only I never communicate my thoughts or questions, well, I guess never is going too far, I hardly ever speak the things on my heart or head. For when I do, my tough gets in the way, or the thought seems to leave my head. What comes out Of my mouth, most of the time shocks even me, because most of the time it wasn't what I wanted to say. I have began to think that maybe I should just shut up. It is so frustrating to want to say something, or express a feeling and all that comes out is meaningless and confusing for anyone else who hears it. Will this ever end? will my brain and my mouth ever work well together? Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!, well that worked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-5130850180819067918?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/5130850180819067918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=5130850180819067918' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/5130850180819067918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/5130850180819067918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/words-dont-come.html' title='words don&apos;t come'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4417067444816214138</id><published>2007-10-26T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T19:52:01.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>go to sleep/that place between</title><content type='html'>GO TO SLEEP&lt;br /&gt;when sleep comes, I slowly slip into a place where some times there seems to be no time. where I live in a land with lots of space, there I can run so very fast it's almost like flying it is so fast, some times I do fly, over trees and golden corn fields. Up up into the sky fast too I fly fast. It almost feels like a roller coaster. The wind is whistling in my ears, I open my eyes, and I am no longer sleeping. Some would say that I was back in the real world, I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT PLACE BETWEEN&lt;br /&gt;my house mate and I were talking about how we get so exited sometimes that we get to go to sleep at night, she and I both agreed that after a long day it feels so good to crawl into bed under the covers and let our selves just relax completely. I like how every thing just seems to melt into the bed, my body lets go of the stress of the day, and there is stillness, and quiet. My favorite feeling I would say is that time when your gently slipping into that other place of no time, and of dreams, that time just in between. It's one of my favorite places, I like how it feels to be aware of that in between space, it's almost as if time is shifting, or floating, or I'm not sure how to describe it except that it's not yet there, it is, that place between.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4417067444816214138?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4417067444816214138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4417067444816214138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4417067444816214138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4417067444816214138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/go-to-sleepthat-place-between.html' title='go to sleep/that place between'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4624160307663886237</id><published>2007-10-21T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T19:49:03.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wounded hearts</title><content type='html'>This weekend God spoke to my heart through my housemates, and through some ideas from Dr. Dan B.Allender and his book The wounded Heart, it was about the truth of a people who are wounded, and out of our wound we wound others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of our story of redemption is the wounds we have suffered, or inflicted along the way. To avoid the truth of those wounds, is to not tell the whole story of grace, and it doesn't allow us to be real with one another, or heal. As Christ's people lets be a people who really enters into the wounds that have been inflicted by the sin in our world with one another. Let's listen to each others real stories, and enter in with our brothers and sisters. I think that God has called us to that, I think this, because he entered into the pain of this world with us in the life of Jesus Christ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you father for your presents all the time, thank you. Amen.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4624160307663886237?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4624160307663886237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4624160307663886237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4624160307663886237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4624160307663886237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/wonded-hearts.html' title='wounded hearts'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-8525255645372194991</id><published>2007-10-18T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T21:13:17.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How do we, while in the earthly kingdom, live as a holy nation that is set apart and sent into the world?</title><content type='html'>I am in a bible study, and we are studying 1 Peter. Every week we all receive a group of questions on the part we are feeding on the following evening. This week we are looking at 1 Peter 2:13-25. One of the questions that was asked was "How do we, while in the earthly kingdom, live as a holy nation that is set apart and sent into the world? I rasuled a bit with this whole section of 1 Peter only because I have been reading the book of Daniel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I felt like maybe the bible was saying some different things in regards to how we should treat people in authority over us. What I mean by this is when Daniel, Shadrach,Meshach and Abednego were under the rule of King Nebuchadnezzer There were some times when they did not submit to what the king had asked because it was against God. It seemed to me as I was reading the passage in Peter that he is asking us to submit in all things,and how would that have applied in the circumstances with Daniel and his friends,And if we are to be obedient as they were obedient, there seems to be some times when to submit to every authority would not be obedience to God? As I read, I asked God to give me clarity about this, because it felt a little contradictory to me. I don't like to use that word in regards to the scripture, because I don't think it is true of the bible. I just think our understanding of it's meaning is contradictorily, or better, unclear. I read over the section again and I realized that maybe submit means to honor? If that is right, then when the king asked Daniel and his friends to worship Him, or other Gods that he had set up, by not doing so did not dishonor, in fact as I read through Daniel and I get the sense that he did honor the king. But there is a differences between honoring someone, and worshiping someone or something other than God. Anyway, God showed me that and it seems to make sense to me? Any thoughts? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, I want to say that the question about how we live as a holy nation is in His word.  I think we just neglect to be obedient to it, that's when we are swayed to conform to the the things of the world. His word says, in Romans 12:2 "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's well is - his good, pleasing and perfect will." I don't know about others, but my problems come when I chose not to obey this request.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-8525255645372194991?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/8525255645372194991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=8525255645372194991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8525255645372194991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8525255645372194991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-do-we-while-in-earthly-kingdom-live.html' title='How do we, while in the earthly kingdom, live as a holy nation that is set apart and sent into the world?'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-1728047137605673413</id><published>2007-10-17T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T20:39:26.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn</title><content type='html'>My favorite Autumn sweets and teats are pumpkin pies, candy corn, s'mores. one of the best October TV special is the great pumpkin charlie brown. last year my house mate went for an afternoon walk through the leave covered forest floor when she came home she had collected several hand fulls of brightly colored fall leaves she put together three leave collages of framed leaves, they were a bit of Autumn all year long we are hoping to collect a fresh group of leaves to frame. If you haven't already figured it, this is my favorite time of year. I feel like it is a taste of heaven, part of me is reminded of Narnia. What I mean by that is it feels fresh and new, and magical in a way, I feel new life is given me every Autumn. that's all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-1728047137605673413?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/1728047137605673413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=1728047137605673413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1728047137605673413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1728047137605673413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/autumn.html' title='Autumn'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-6345958687118718873</id><published>2007-10-16T21:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T21:47:19.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty</title><content type='html'>The wind catches the &lt;br /&gt;red brown orange and yellow autumn &lt;br /&gt;presipitaion just before it rests on&lt;br /&gt;the back deck of our home &lt;br /&gt;in town.  Still others don't &lt;br /&gt;miss and soon &lt;br /&gt;there is a blanket of fall coloers.  &lt;br /&gt;logs of wood burn, and fill my nose&lt;br /&gt;returning the days of past memories, &lt;br /&gt;trigered by the sent my mind&lt;br /&gt;remembers young times.&lt;br /&gt;The dry leaves keep rythem with&lt;br /&gt;the birds chirping in the trees.&lt;br /&gt;I wish you would never &lt;br /&gt;go away autumn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-6345958687118718873?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/6345958687118718873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=6345958687118718873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6345958687118718873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6345958687118718873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/beauty.html' title='Beauty'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-7049726770608843303</id><published>2007-10-15T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T20:42:49.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>camp fires</title><content type='html'>why is it that when there is a camp fire, I can't seem to stop staring into the flame? I always wonder that every Autumn when it's time to build camp fires and roast marshmallows, and hot dogs. It is my favorite time of the year though, and I get exited and lonely and peaceful and restless all at the same time. I get exited to see the leaves turn colors, and for the temperature to be cooler, I get lonely and long to share the season with someone, that someone being a husband. At the same time I find myself feeling a sense of peace, and calm, and at other times I feel restless, a longing for a new adventure. All of these thoughts went through my mind this evening as I sat next to the fire, with the brother and sister hood of the fellowship of the bride singing songs laughing, throwing marshmallow it was great fun. Thank you Father for the joy there is in being a part of your family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-7049726770608843303?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/7049726770608843303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=7049726770608843303' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/7049726770608843303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/7049726770608843303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/10/camp-fires.html' title='camp fires'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-1521661195010057064</id><published>2007-08-30T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T10:52:46.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter of Complaint</title><content type='html'>1200 Rollingridge way&lt;br /&gt;Bloomington, In 47408&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 30, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Willy Wonka&lt;br /&gt;Factory owner&lt;br /&gt;Willy Wonka’s Candy Factory&lt;br /&gt;777 W. Sweet dr.&lt;br /&gt;Friendship, Maine 24268&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mr. Wonka&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On December 25, 2006 I purchased a package of your full course chewing gum for my 12 year old daughter.  After chewing the gum she was swollen like balloon, and a shade of bluish purple, just before her transformation she said that the gum tasted like blueberry pie.  I am assuming that this would make your product defective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took, the package of gum, and my daughter to your customer service counter on December 26, 2006.  The umplumpa on duty told me that I would not get my money back, and that my daughter would have to be pumped to let the juice out.  Because of this incident, I will not be purchasing your company product in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there are any questions regarding this letter I can be reached on my cell phone on any evenings: 812-340-0807.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liana Vela&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-1521661195010057064?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/1521661195010057064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=1521661195010057064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1521661195010057064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/1521661195010057064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/08/letter-of-complaint.html' title='Letter of Complaint'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4595255768610856224</id><published>2007-01-12T09:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T09:07:44.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Morning</title><content type='html'>Good morning, yes it was.  Last night I was feeling a bit nerves about my 9am class that I attended this morning, but it subsided farely quickly.  The Class: intro to Philosopy.  Last night I was a bit nerves about the posibility that Philosopy would be way too over my head, and maybe it will be still, but as my profesor began giving us an introduction to what we would be discussing this semester, the exitment began to rise inside of me, to the point of feeling an emotional response. My heart seemed to race, slightly a few times as I thought about some of the things we were going to descuss in class.  (Granted I did have a cup of coffee just before class) :) i still could not ignore the exitment I felt as I antisapated this class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I learned that Philosphers are askers of questions.  A question that came to my head as I drove home was ( Is it wise to question and wonder about these ideas, and will doing so jepordise my relationship with God? ) ( Do some people look at these thoughts and think they are not inportant?, and why? )  Anyhow, nothing I do or say could be done or said without my creator and savor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that I could do it because I belonged to him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4595255768610856224?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4595255768610856224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4595255768610856224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4595255768610856224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4595255768610856224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/01/friday-morning.html' title='Friday Morning'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-6396816279888841064</id><published>2007-01-11T08:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T08:19:06.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Latte School Spirit</title><content type='html'>QUAD GRANDA VANILLA NON-FAT EXTRA HOT WITH WHIP LATTE!...Crowds of young and old school spirit walk through the door along with a steady stream of welcomed cold air, they are dressed in red and white sweatshirts bundled to keep outside cold away...DECAF GRANDA CINIMON SOY WITH WHIP MOCHA!...their here to heat the inside as well, and I stand next to a row of white and green cups marked with black ink that line the silver counter top...TALL VANILLA NON-FAT CHI!...In my peripheral vision I view the line of faces as I pull hot espresso shots froma squealing machine.  The sticky syrups that accompany the steamed milky ness and shots of coffee are running down my arms...DOES ANYONE HAVE A DECAF GRANDA CINIMON SOY WITH WHIP MOCHA ON THE BAR?!...The steady flow of drink orders causes the sticky mess to cake on for lack of time to stop and rinse it off with water.  I most likely have whip cream all up in my hair, and a big brown splotch of chocolate running down the front of my once freshly laundered green apron,...VENTA SINGLE SHOT NO WHIP CARMAL FRAPOCHENO!...if you follow the chocolete path it will lead to my shoes, where it joins the already globs of sticky syrups steamed milk and whip cream.  Visions of a shower dance through my head, and my six-hour shift never seems to end...TRIPAL VENTA SUGER FREE HAZULNUT NON-FAT FOUR SPLENDA LATTE!...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-6396816279888841064?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/6396816279888841064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=6396816279888841064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6396816279888841064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/6396816279888841064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/01/ok-what-is-up-with-this.html' title='A Latte School Spirit'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-3628273362049637633</id><published>2007-01-10T07:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T08:11:40.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More from the Tom boy</title><content type='html'>...She will most likely have a favoret tree she climbed when she was a girl.  She didn't just climb it she sat in it and dreamed in it.  She also probabley sprang ankles and wrists jumping out of it at times.  Maybe she dreamed of building or built, (with her dads help) a tree house or tree fort in the tree.  One of her favoret movies is the Sandlot, and she wanted to be one of those boys, and was really frustrated because she didn't seem to have the same kind of fun and adventures they did, or maybe she did. If she did she sure got into a bunch of trouble.  She will have stories about playing in the dirt, chasing down lizerds catching crodads in the crick, and having mice for pets, and being the fasest girl on the neighborhood block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Tom boy is a dreamer, always wondering and questioning life and pausing to hear the noise or silents inside. For the most part these thoughts and dreams never are spoken out loud though they are bursting at her seams to be heard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-3628273362049637633?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/3628273362049637633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=3628273362049637633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3628273362049637633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/3628273362049637633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/01/more-from-tom-boy.html' title='More from the Tom boy'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-4726398647814658375</id><published>2007-01-08T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T11:57:53.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tom Boy</title><content type='html'>To Romance a Tom boy is quite the feet, and to be honest there are few gents to do it. You should probably be stright forward with her for she doesn't like having to try and figure it out in her head infact it's quite dangeros to let her do so.  In this way she is very much a girly girl. For the most part of her life she is very aware of this part in her, in fact she tryies with all her might to fight it, this battle though, can not be won by her strangth.  Again and again she will be pounded, till she is a pile of dust on the ground. If you are a man of adventure, or like to live somewhat by the seat of your pants, she will most likely be drawn to you.  If you like her, the best way to romance her is to sweep her up into your adventures, and share with her your stories.  Don't forget to ask her about her's, and listen well, for she will do as well for you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-4726398647814658375?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/4726398647814658375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=4726398647814658375' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4726398647814658375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/4726398647814658375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2007/01/tom-boy.html' title='Tom Boy'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-8719625560824752555</id><published>2006-12-24T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T09:32:12.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/RY64-6z7cUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mmCIyvR1H3Y/s1600-h/2005_1225Image0016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5012146826388402498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/RY64-6z7cUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mmCIyvR1H3Y/s200/2005_1225Image0016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Merry Christmas to all of you. It is the day of Jesus Birth, he is the reason for this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;season&lt;/span&gt;. what joy is this that fills my inmost being when I think of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;miracle&lt;/span&gt; of the birth of Jesus the Messiah. His birth day is our life, our hope, joy, grace and mercy. We can know him now. and we have a way to the father, to God. Amen!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-8719625560824752555?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/8719625560824752555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=8719625560824752555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8719625560824752555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/8719625560824752555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/RY64-6z7cUI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mmCIyvR1H3Y/s72-c/2005_1225Image0016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-116378909015892799</id><published>2006-11-17T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-17T11:06:15.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A true Football Star.</title><content type='html'>So today in my Government and Politics Class I met and heard George Taliaferro Speek.  He is a man with quite a story.  George Taliaferro Graduated from IU in 1949.  He was the First Black Man Drafted by the NFL.  It was so neat to hear him, and to talk with him.  So often I think about the stories of life that are going on around me, wondering what their about, and who the main parts are of the story.  Something that struck me, and I have been struck with this thought more than once.  That through the difficulties of life he said that he was the most shaped, the most changed, that in those difficulties he became a stronger person.  It reminded me that God uses the hard things of life to make me what he wants me to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-116378909015892799?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/116378909015892799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=116378909015892799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/116378909015892799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/116378909015892799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/11/true-football-star.html' title='A true Football Star.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114366464740287208</id><published>2006-03-29T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T12:37:27.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/164/10337/640/photo_0095.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/164/10337/320/photo_0095.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good friends are such a blessing from God.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114366464740287208?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114366464740287208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114366464740287208' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114366464740287208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114366464740287208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/good-friends-are-such-blessing-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114334662659437122</id><published>2006-03-25T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T20:17:06.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Assateague.</title><content type='html'>Assateague. A new kind of swear word, or a wild horse Island on cost of Maryland? I spoke with a friend of mine on the phone the other day. He had been wondering why he hadn't seen me in awhile, I explained that I had gone east to Delaware, there we,( we being my house mates and I) , Had adventures and time next to the ocean. While we were there, I explained that we had visited an island called Assateague. His response made me laugh" pardon me" he said." No,"I said, "I'm not swearing at you." There are these Islands called Assateague, and chincoteague. They are located in Maryland and Virginia. The Islands are national wildlife refuge. One kind of wildlife are the wild horses. We saw them up close and personal, that was unexpected. We're all ok though, and the horses only wanted to say hi, and see if we would feed them any of our strawberries. The strawberries were mine, and I was not about to give them up to a horse, no mater how wild he was. After some time of sticking their horse noses and heads in our car windows without any success of finding or receiving any food from us they moved on to the car behind us, I don't think they got food there either. Because they gave up, and stuck their heads back in the grass. God really blessed our trip, and we felt and saw the the Lord is Good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114334662659437122?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114334662659437122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114334662659437122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114334662659437122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114334662659437122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/assateague.html' title='Assateague.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114205116172035778</id><published>2006-03-10T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T20:26:01.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for now farewell.</title><content type='html'>For now farewell, I'm leaving ta ta, too see the sea, yes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114205116172035778?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114205116172035778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114205116172035778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114205116172035778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114205116172035778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/for-now-farewell.html' title='for now farewell.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114196877561867721</id><published>2006-03-09T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T21:32:55.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wet pavement.</title><content type='html'>Remember that song we used to sing when we were kids, the one we sang when we wanted to go frolic in the out doors but we didn't because it was raining. Rain rain go away come again some other day. Or the one about the old man, It's raining it's poring the old man is snoring, he got out of bed and bumped his head and couldn't get up in the morning. Why did we sing those songs, I mean what happen to the old man? I remember, a few times, during the summer when I was a kid my parents would let us play in the rain. This sounds strange I think, but I like the smell of wet pavement, and I used to lay on it face up eyes closed, every other sense awake. The side walk would be warm from the summer sun of the day, and the rain falling on me would be cool. I remember thinking this is so beautiful God. To know God, is to really experience life, in a vivid sort of way, to have every sense, AWAKE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114196877561867721?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114196877561867721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114196877561867721' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114196877561867721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114196877561867721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/wet-pavement.html' title='wet pavement.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114188019191516134</id><published>2006-03-08T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T20:56:31.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>good day!</title><content type='html'>Today, was a good day.  I don't know why it was a good day, it just was.  I guess it was really like any other day, I just felt happy.  Joyfull is maybe a better way of putting it.  It rained all day today, from the time I woke up, till now, just before I'm putting my head on a pillow for the night.  I worked at the bucks today, and we had this debate going all afternoon with each other and customers, can a rainy dreary day be a good day?  Most of the responses we got from people were, YA! NO!  A few of us talked about how sometimes a rainy day is a good thing, infact a couple people said they liked rainy days, even if they were yuky.   Anyhow, Today was a good day.  Heavenly father, I give you my thanks, for this day, this good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114188019191516134?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114188019191516134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114188019191516134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114188019191516134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114188019191516134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/good-day.html' title='good day!'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114174595418754332</id><published>2006-03-07T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T07:52:39.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't give me that look.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4366/706/1600/photo_0069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 287px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px" height="240" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4366/706/320/photo_0069.jpg" width="281" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ok, just incase anyone was wondering what the face behind the crazy writings looked like, here it is. yep it's me, and don't give me that look.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114174595418754332?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114174595418754332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114174595418754332' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114174595418754332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114174595418754332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/dont-give-me-that-look.html' title='Don&apos;t give me that look.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114167894898015245</id><published>2006-03-06T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T06:27:12.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time away, with you.</title><content type='html'>I need to get out of here, before I go crazy. I feel like my feet are cemented to the ground. Everything is moving around me at light speed, I don't have enough time for all the people I care about. I feel like I am far away from you. There's this heaviness inside me, and I can't seem to shake it. I can't get enough sleep, and I have had enough of lot's of people. I don't feel motivated. Weary weary oh so weary. Will you take me away with you? I have missed you, I know it's because of me, I seem to forget about you, and how much you love me, somehow, I always think there is something, or someone better, but there's not. Sometimes I don't even realize that I have walked away from you, mostly it's after I've gone some distance away before I notice there is something wrong, and that I'm missing something. You keep whispering to me, and things and life are so frecking loud around me that I can't even hear you, in fact, I am pretty sure I heard you the other day, but I chose to just ignore you with my radio. Things got worse after that. That's enough. Take me away please? I need time away with you. Lord?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114167894898015245?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114167894898015245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114167894898015245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114167894898015245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114167894898015245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/time-away-with-you.html' title='Time away, with you.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114150483356871163</id><published>2006-03-04T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T12:40:33.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4366/706/1600/Sample.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 381px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 212px" height="212" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4366/706/320/Sample.0.jpg" width="654" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Let's finish the race.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114150483356871163?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114150483356871163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114150483356871163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114150483356871163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114150483356871163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/03/lets-finish-race.html' title=''/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-114099313273117499</id><published>2006-02-26T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T12:29:50.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>been awile.</title><content type='html'>A long time has past, and it has been some time sense I have writen anything at all, I don't even journal anymore these days, maybe I journal once a month. I'm still in the same place, doing pretty much the same things. God continues to be faithfull, and he continues to remind me that he will never leave me or forsake me, even in the really painfull times of life. In those times I cry out, God where are you in this, I'm scared and I don't see what good comes with these hard things of life. Why am I here again? I guess I have felt weary, and weak.  I wonder if it's just an awareness of the state of this life on earth, and how flawed it is because of sin.  The deepest part of me knows that there's somthing more, something better.  It's HIM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-114099313273117499?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/114099313273117499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=114099313273117499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114099313273117499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/114099313273117499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2006/02/been-awile.html' title='been awile.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-113556398491054031</id><published>2005-12-25T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-25T18:43:21.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>True Love.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Love is patient, love is kind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It does not envy , it does not boast, it is not proud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Love never fails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;1 Corinthians 13:4-8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;" hello in there, hey, what you got out here worth living for? "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"Twwuuee Wwoove "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-113556398491054031?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/113556398491054031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=113556398491054031' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/113556398491054031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/113556398491054031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/12/true-love.html' title='True Love.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-113547860580173344</id><published>2005-12-24T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T18:43:25.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>" I think I'm falling in love "</title><content type='html'>It was love at first sight. I think I'm in love with you. We're in love. In love? What does it mean, when your, " in love? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what does, ( in) mean? Websters's 2 New Riverside Dectionary's definitions of, in, are: within the bounds of, into, to a condition of, having the activity or function of, during, wearing, having the arrangement or style of, by means of, with reference to, out of, to the inside, to a goal or place, so as to be inclueded or contained, so as to be fashionable, incoming, available or at home, having power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what does, (love) mean? Again, Webster definition is: intense affection, a feeling of attraction resulting from sexual desire, enthusiasm or fondness, a beloved person, a score of zero in tennis, to feel love for, to enjoy enthusiastically, adore, cherish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with in the bounds of a feeling of attraction resulting from sexual desire = In Love.&lt;br /&gt;into intense affection= In Love.&lt;br /&gt;to a condition of enthusiasm or fondness= In Love.&lt;br /&gt;having the activity or function of a beloved person= In Love&lt;br /&gt;having power to enjoy enthusiastically = In Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-113547860580173344?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/113547860580173344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=113547860580173344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/113547860580173344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/113547860580173344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-think-im-falling-in-love.html' title='&quot; I think I&apos;m falling in love &quot;'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-113320526496849792</id><published>2005-11-28T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T06:33:09.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Iwana get married.</title><content type='html'>I like being single.  I would like to get married.  I turned 30 this year.  I seem to be getting, that I want to be a mommy feeling more often lately.  I want to learn spanish.  I want to travel too as many places as I can.  I want a husband who likes to travel.  I don't want to buy a house with a white picket fence.  I'm not sure if I want to buy a house ever.  This world has nothing for me.  Still more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-113320526496849792?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/113320526496849792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=113320526496849792' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/113320526496849792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/113320526496849792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/11/iwana-get-married.html' title='Iwana get married.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-112043484251293329</id><published>2005-07-03T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T16:55:29.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A waterfall</title><content type='html'>A water fall, It drowns out other noise, even your own noisy thoughts, Pease comes even in crazy, deep breaths are often.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayer, it drowns out other noise, even your own noisy thoughts, Pease comes even in crazy, deep breaths are often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-112043484251293329?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/112043484251293329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=112043484251293329' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/112043484251293329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/112043484251293329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/07/waterfall.html' title='A waterfall'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-112035171118579275</id><published>2005-07-02T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T17:48:31.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing persons</title><content type='html'>Hello to all who read this little ditty, I have been hearing word, that some peoples have been disappointed with me not up dating.  Sorry, I have been disabled for the past few months or so, I will try and remember to write.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I went hiking on rocks at the lake.  It was a really beautiful day in Bloomington.  We painted our faces with rocks, My friend Amber taught me how to make face paints with Them.  We did some stone skipping, ate some lunch, and just enjoyed, took pleasure in Gods creation.  I have learned that when we take joy, and pleasure in what he has made, that he is praised, and glorified because of it.  Here it is He says, I made it, what do you think, then he waits our reaction, he takes pleasure in our joy over what he has made.  Like when we make some good food, and we want to share it with our friends, and family, and we want to see how they enjoy what we made.  Maybe it's like a parent with their children when parents give them good gifts, and watching to see.  God is so Good, all the time he is Good. Sing to him make music, bless his name make a joyful splash in the puddle to him, or praise the lord, with skipping stones.  Take notice of his details in creation.  Praise him in the art you put on your face.  ya! Amen!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-112035171118579275?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/112035171118579275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=112035171118579275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/112035171118579275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/112035171118579275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/07/missing-persons.html' title='Missing persons'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-111203189875714461</id><published>2005-03-28T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-28T09:44:58.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A new job.</title><content type='html'>Well, I am an offical YMCA employee starting today.  I will be their massage therapist.  I guess, I am a little hasty normaly.  Anyway, God still provides.  The sun has not shone for the past few days, I pray, that it will come out soon.  it looks right now that maybe it might peek out of the clouds yet today.  I hope so.  though, the rain will turn everything green, and put buds on the trees, and start the prosess of spring.  I have injoyed hearing the birds again.  They sing such wonderfull songs of praise to my Lord.  Again later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-111203189875714461?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/111203189875714461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=111203189875714461' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/111203189875714461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/111203189875714461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/03/new-job.html' title='A new job.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110842111520034448</id><published>2005-02-14T14:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T14:45:15.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's day</title><content type='html'>Happy Valentine's day God! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my true love. There is no one like you, and there will never be, and even if you bless me with someone to love, I will not be able to love them, if I don't love you first and foremost.  You Lord know just how to romance this heart.  Maybe it may seem silly, but you do it the best.  You have danced with me like know other, your poetry has brought me to tears so many times, the way you toss my hair about my face, with your warm breath.  So many times you take my breath away with your canvases of art.  I remember the day you took me to the Oprah, that brought a chill to my being, as if my spirited were trying to leap from this body.  You really are the greatest love of my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you so much more everyday. &lt;br /&gt; Liana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-110842111520034448?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/110842111520034448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=110842111520034448' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110842111520034448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110842111520034448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s day'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110706229559710909</id><published>2005-01-29T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T21:18:15.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resistance is futile</title><content type='html'>Futile I tell you, futile!... Or is it?  He loves me, ^, he loves me not^ he loves me^ , He loves me not^,... Ahhh, he loves me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a wonderfully imagination, boy it sure is annoying sometimes.  Lets  wrestle. ok, here is reality, and here is dreaming.  Some dreams seem more real, then the real.  Or is the dream real, and reality a dream?  Will the story end?, or at some point do we all get caught up at the end of the story seemedly at different times, but really all at once every one is there?  What is time to God? His word says nothing.  We can not understand what that means.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise Him for he is worthy!   &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-110706229559710909?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/110706229559710909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=110706229559710909' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110706229559710909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110706229559710909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/01/resistance-is-futile.html' title='Resistance is futile'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110627844079298372</id><published>2005-01-20T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T19:34:00.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>beauty in the beast</title><content type='html'>this evening, I paused at the kithen window.  I paused, because there were big soft slow moving snow flakes falling from the sky.  they gently blanketed the ground, giving me a feeling of warmth, dispite the cold right outside my door.  If we had not sinned, do you think there still would have been snow?, or is there more glory for God in the seemedly cold harsh sin filled world that we chose?  Is there beauty in the beast? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-110627844079298372?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/110627844079298372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=110627844079298372' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110627844079298372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110627844079298372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/01/beauty-in-beast.html' title='beauty in the beast'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110513640867581506</id><published>2005-01-07T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T14:20:08.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh , I don't know, you make one up.</title><content type='html'>Thoughts, lots of thoughts, keep running through my head, continually.  In The past, I have questioned God about this, I think and wonder about so much, about him, about how people think, or act.  About Gods story that is taking place now around me, and including me.  I wonder if I will be able to know truth, or if I will be swayed by things, or ideas that are false but, look true. I think of the scripture that says, He is the vine and we are the branches, who ever remains in him will bare much fruit.  And also the scripture that talks about "do not conform any longer to the the patients of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that we will be able to test and approve His will his good pleasing and perfect will.  I have learned, that when I dwell with God, then My mind is clear, and the desitions I make are not rash, and fast but thought out and usually involve some sort of patent waiting time.  When I hang out with Christ, the lies that satin throws my way are easier to see.  I can deflect it with words of truth that are being stored in my heart and mind as I hang out with Christ. I know this guy, he prays the full armor of God upon himself, and those he cares for, I have started doing the same, and not only that, but just thinking and pondering those words in scripture as well.  I don't do this every day, but I have thought more about it in this past year.  The full Armor of God the " feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel" the gospel, of the Jesus Christ, of the Grace given to this world through him, and how he is the way the truth and the life.  The belt of truth buckled around our waist. " the belt of truth is what I am not sure , anybody?  The helmet of salvation, the head of it all is that we are saved by grace, if we believe in Jesus Christ we have salvation, and reconciliation to God the father through Jesus Christ.  The helmet of salvation? "the Brest plate of righteousness" the shield of faith, the sword of the spirit, which is the word and we are to pray in it on all actions." On all acations?  All acations, that is a lot of prayer. ?  Are we then defenseless if we are not coming before our savor in prayer?, fellowship, and his word, ?  &lt;br /&gt;      See, lots of thoughts.  Too many I sometimes think, and that is just the bit of it.  With all these thoughts, I wondered if God really cared, about what I thought about.  One of  the resones I think I wondered that, was because the important men of my life have really never given a crap about what I thought about, or if they did they would never have bothered to inquire about my thoughts, because of their own fears, I guess.  Anyway, I had come to the concluetion, that my thoughts or ideas really didn't matter, and no one really wanted to bother in finding out what they were.  I have never been very good at expressing them anyway, as you will pick up on in this blog.  Ok, well this is stopping here for now, more later.&lt;br /&gt;&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/9602369-110513640867581506?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/110513640867581506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=110513640867581506' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110513640867581506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110513640867581506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2005/01/oh-i-dont-know-you-make-one-up.html' title='Oh , I don&apos;t know, you make one up.'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110402121147278139</id><published>2004-12-25T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-25T16:33:31.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The curse has been broken</title><content type='html'>Ok, so marriage is something I would like to experience some time.  I also wrote in my last blog, that this desire for my husband ( ? ) is a curse along with that pain in child birth.  This curse has been broken though, by God through his son Christ Jesus.  We only have but to except this gift, or allow God to begin the work of spell braking in our own lives.  When I was 5 years old God revealed this to my young heart.  He has been recreating me a little more every day.  Until the day when I stand before my King, my father, Lord and savor, I will feel the scares of the sin, but I do not have to fall hopeless to the ground in defeat to that curse.  For I know that Through God the father son and holy spirit, the battle, the curse has been won, broken. The curse has not prevailed.  Ya! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-110402121147278139?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/110402121147278139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=110402121147278139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110402121147278139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110402121147278139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2004/12/curse-has-been-broken.html' title='The curse has been broken'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110307705090837795</id><published>2004-12-14T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-14T18:17:30.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>1corinthians 7 ( Mawidge)</title><content type='html'>"Is what bwings us togder today Mawidge that bwessed awangment." I want to get married, really I do.  I don't need to get married, but I want to get married. Marriage is not a need, it is a want.  And for all girls especially it is something that they think about a lot.  There are those of us out there who will try and deny their feelings about this hoping that some how denying it will make the feelings go away, but My experience with that has been not yet.  I have stared to just admit the fact, that I want to get married.  In the beginning, God created everything, Man and women too.  Then we sinned, and there was this curse the one on women was that she would have increased pain in child birth, and our desire would be for our husband.  What about those who don't have a husband? I often wonder if it is like being born with out a limb sometimes, or maybe it's like having phantom pains for the one finger you lost or something?  My desire will be for my husband who ever he is?  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-110307705090837795?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/feeds/110307705090837795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9602369&amp;postID=110307705090837795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110307705090837795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110307705090837795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2004/12/1corinthians-7-mawidge.html' title='1corinthians 7 ( Mawidge)'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9602369.post-110299622811593576</id><published>2004-12-13T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T19:50:28.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Starbucks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do you ever cringe when people ask you what you do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its as if that question is actually a question of who you are.  In the past I have disliked the question what do you do, because I took it to be a question about who I was, I think that there are a lot of people out there who do the same.  In struggling with this question, that seems to be asked of us as we grow older, I wondered very often if I was a failure because I didn't have my life's plans, and myself figured out yet.  You know that old question," what do you want to be when you grow up. " Ah Ha!, that's it it's that question, the one everyone asked you when you were a little kid.  Boy words really do stick with us.  My Aunt Diane said something once, and it has helped me very much.  What I do for a job, or career is not who I am.  Thanks Diane, for helping me out a bit.      I work at Starbucks, as a Barista.  I like it very much too.  I make a tasty Granda vanilla nonfat Latte.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9602369-110299622811593576?l=limarie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110299622811593576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9602369/posts/default/110299622811593576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://limarie.blogspot.com/2004/12/starbucks.html' title='Starbucks'/><author><name>Liana (Nessa Numenesse)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849454430014640126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v7kenYiQTCs/S38G0JAeIzI/AAAAAAAAAFY/eofwnWiabMA/S220/phone+pictures.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
