<?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-7669359389442699601</id><updated>2012-02-01T14:00:50.073-06:00</updated><category term='Service'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='Bono'/><category term='support'/><category term='Life in Christ'/><category term='creation'/><category term='Tinker Toys'/><category term='Crossroads'/><category term='sick'/><category term='art'/><category term='writing'/><category term='cars'/><category term='human nature'/><category term='Liberia'/><category term='time'/><title type='text'>Coley Jean</title><subtitle type='html'>Raising Up A Generation...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-4706665562498009064</id><published>2011-12-15T14:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T14:13:28.442-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life in Christ'/><title type='text'>Living It Out...in the most unexpected ways</title><content type='html'>Early this summer, Andy told me he wanted a mini fridge in the church office so we could offer water and snacks to people when we had meetings there. Being the ever-submissive assistant I went to Home Depot and got one for less than $100! We almost had some trouble with our tax-exempt status because I didn't have a Home Depot account for the company, but a manager came over and just hit a few buttons. It looked great, was inexpensive, and held water bottles. Mission Accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in the fall it mysteriously stopped working, and lukewarm water just wouldn't do. So Kyle dug up the receipt for me, only to discover that the return date had passed! Knowing that, I dragged my feet on calling Home Depot to find out what to do next because I just don't enjoy cold-calling people or companies, especially when a negotiation is likely. I know that I put the receipt in a safe place because I would need it when I did finally deal with this. Unfortunately, it is still in that place, and that place has been lost to history. Without the receipt my interest in calling Home Depot plummeted even further.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finally went there in person yesterday and explained my problem at the service counter to find out what the options were. Praise the Lord, it was super simple! They found the receipt in their system, printed it out and told me to come back with the fridge and they would give me store credit. I ignored the note at the bottom of the printout that read, "This receipt cannot be used for returns."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I immediately went to the office and brought the fridge back to Home Depot. The Service Desk guy scanned a few things, but just as I was about to sign the transaction, I realized that they had returned the tax to me even though I never paid tax. It was about $7, but I never had it, so they shouldn't give it back to me!&amp;nbsp;That little mention I made led us down a path of 20 minutes of phone calls to multiple managers, finally resulting in them just deciding to give me the tax anyway because they couldn't figure it out due to how the manager got around the tax when I first bought it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last thing I had to do was pick out the new fridge. I found it (still under $100, and bigger!) and brought it up to the same service desk because I also had to set up a formal tax-exampt account with them. But I told the woman I wanted to pay the tax on this one because they had returned the tax to me that I didn't pay in the first place and this would just even everything out.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The woman's reaction took my totally by surprise, "Did you go to Northwestern?" I realized I was wearing an old NWC shirt.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yes," I replied.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well, you are just a wonderful image of Christ!" Come to find out, she had two kids go through NWC, and is currently reading a Piper book that she's loving.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was about the last situation I ever expected to be pointed out as a witness for Christ. Granted, if that woman hadn't been a believer I doubt she would have made the leap from financial integrity to Jesus on the cross, at least not without more of a conversation. But whether or not the world fully understands why we are compelled to do good, we are still called to do so. Scripture calls it being the "fragrance" of Christ (2 Cor. 2:14ff); I once had a youth pastor call it "being Jesus with skin on." However you want to say it, the way we act to the world reflects Christ for good or ill. I want to continue striving to mirror Christ in a way that honestly reflects him, and in so doing, change the world through the simplest encounters.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-4706665562498009064?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/4706665562498009064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=4706665562498009064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4706665562498009064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4706665562498009064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2011/12/living-it-outin-most-unexpected-ways.html' title='Living It Out...in the most unexpected ways'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-392881727405951965</id><published>2011-11-08T15:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T15:00:10.853-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Song Inspired from Multiple Stories</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Long ago, out of the night I was led&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;By a Voice, I’m still not sure what he said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;but in my heart I heard the unrelenting words of love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;When he said,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Follow me, out of the night I will lead you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Take my hand, live in the light you are mine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Now this is something new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Freedom in the fences, could it be true?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;I always thought I knew that freedom came without a home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;‘Till he said,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Follow me, out of the night I will lead you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Take my hand, live in the light you are mine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;What is it about your grace that terrifies me?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Why can I not live in light of love?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Oh great and mighty, awesome God I know you are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;But my Redeemer, Father, Friend, I’m not so sure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Still you say,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Follow me, out of the night I will lead you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Take my hand, live in the light you are mine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-392881727405951965?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/392881727405951965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=392881727405951965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/392881727405951965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/392881727405951965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2011/11/song-inspired-from-multiple-stories.html' title='A Song Inspired from Multiple Stories'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-8704660493368601111</id><published>2011-10-27T12:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T12:48:31.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back On Land</title><content type='html'>On Monday I returned from a week-long vacation in the Caribbean on the Disney Dream cruise ship with my parents, littlest sister, grandparents, and one cousin. It was a fantastic week of sun, sleep, salt, snorkeling, and sweets. Wow, I didn't even try for that alliteration! That's just how good it was.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The biggest adjustment was not learning to move with the ocean swells, or not having to pay for anything on the ship; it was the disconnection from the rest of life. We of course had no cell service or internet and I was surprised at how much I missed connecting with my friends after just a couple of days. It was a serious adjustment to post on Facebook the funny thing that just happened, or text someone when the crowds were just too much. It was incredibly eye-opening to how much I rely on technology. I still like to think of myself as a country girl who's been called to this crazy urban world, but it really showed me how much I have consigned myself to this lifestyle. I have trained myself to not seek silence and solitude and rest. I have learned to fill my moments with tweets, movies, music, and texts.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here at home I have no roommate or office mates and I sometimes go a whole day without seeing anyone. On the ship I was never alone sharing a room with my whole family on a ship of 4,000 guests and another 1,500 staff, but I had better solitude there than I have at home in quite awhile.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So now that I'm back on land, the challenge is to merge the two. Can I re-enter my life of ministry, family, friends, housework, etc, while maintaining the priority of solitude, rest and reflection? The jury is still out on that one. I continue to have feelings of swaying on a ship, so I'm not sure I'm totally back yet.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-8704660493368601111?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/8704660493368601111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=8704660493368601111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/8704660493368601111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/8704660493368601111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2011/10/back-on-land.html' title='Back On Land'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-9062044801340624948</id><published>2011-10-10T09:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T09:29:18.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm On A Boat</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;This morning my sister Kelsey and I were talking about the book Sticky Church by Larry Osbourne (which I highly recommend), and the nature of our churches and the individuals that make them up. She used an awesome analogy that I have thought of before (and I’m sure many others have) but she took it to a whole new level.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Kelsey and her husband Dave both work at a large church that has been in the cities for 125 years! It’s not a mega church, but it has maybe up to 1000 regular attenders and something like 20,000 children. At least that’s what their children’s programming makes it seem like!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;By contrast I work for 3-year-old church plant, we have about 100 committed adults but the 40 somethings are called old, and our regularly scheduled children’s ministry is a nursery. And sometimes that’s empty.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;She told me about a young man (non-pastor) in their church who is really frustrated that the church is not latching on to the renewed vision which has been presented in the last 4 months for where they need to go next. He wants to storm the kingdom of darkness now and can’t understand why people aren’t aren’t carrying the torch with as much vigor as him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Then Kelsey proceeded to explain that their church is like a barge or a cruise ship: there are a lot of people on board, it takes a long time to turn it around and you have to be careful to not hit icebergs or other hazards. This young man in contrast is like a jet ski. He can tear off in the direction of his choosing, and if he changes his mind he can make a 180 degree turn with very little wake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Now what if this same guy gets married? He is going to need a bigger boat! (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) He may think that he can just throw his wife on the back of the jet ski and keep up the same speed, but at the first hairpin she’s going to go skidding angrily across the water. So maybe this new couple needs something more like a canoe. They’re both responsible for getting the boat anywhere, but it’s a little slower. And they will need to watch the waves. If they don’t work together and they hit waves at the wrong angle, they’re both sunk. (Some couples opt for a fishing boat--more room, goes faster, but only one person can control the motor at a time.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Someday they’ll have children and it’s time to get a speed boat. Life speed picks up, you’re carrying more passengers, but you also have to be careful not to whip the skier you’re pulling into the reeds, or into the path of an obnoxious jet skier. Though he can get out of the way quickly if he needs to.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;Compare the nuclear family to the church family, and you’re back to the barge! With each new life phase, an individual becomes a family, there are new cautions and people to consider.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;My church feels more like a catamaran. A catamaran is like a sailboat but with two hulls connected by a canvas or solid platform. The beauty of the catamaran is that it can carry a lot of weight for its size, and it’s surprisingly maneuverable and stable for its shape. The danger is that it’s surprisingly maneuverable. It may not capsize even when one end is 60 degrees in the air, but it is easy to suddenly veer off course if you don’t know what you’re doing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;We have only two main focuses (Sunday mornings and Community Groups) and can’t offer all of the services of a passenger or freight ship. But wow, do we have wind in our sails! We are powered by the fervor or 100 jet skis. Where my sister’s challenge is to get the ship turning at all I am just hanging on for dear life, trying not to capsize, and enjoying the ride.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-9062044801340624948?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/9062044801340624948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=9062044801340624948' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/9062044801340624948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/9062044801340624948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2011/10/im-on-boat.html' title='I&apos;m On A Boat'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-4352192700228354304</id><published>2011-10-05T11:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T11:35:08.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Courage and Fear, part 1</title><content type='html'>A couple days ago I used a topical bible index to look up the words Courage and Fear. It was an older book so Fear redirected me to Cowardice, and I happen to like that alliteration. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I copied the ones that stood out to me most into a list so that I have them to read/meditate on at will. Of course they came up in biblical order, so here's the one at the top of the list: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could one have chased a thousand, and two have put ten thousand to flight, unless their Rock had sold them, and the LORD had given them up? Deut 32:30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately loved the confidence, security, and assurance it gives, but a few days later I read the entire chapter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The context of this verse is nothing like I thought it was. I expected it to be one of those situations where the Israelite people were terribly outnumbered and yet they succeeded. Instead, it is about the Lord contemplating destroying his people because of their disobedience and using their enemies to do so. But He decides not to because he doesn't want the enemies to get the wrong impression that it was their might that defeated the Israelites when really they could only win if the Lord were to hand the Israelites over! God is still in control and the Lord is still the one who gives victory, but this realization puts a completely different (or at least fuller) perspective on things. If anything, it kind of makes me feel more secure because even if I am disobedient, get myself into trouble, and make myself easy prey for my enemies, they still can't harm me without the Lord's hand being involved. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-4352192700228354304?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/4352192700228354304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=4352192700228354304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4352192700228354304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4352192700228354304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2011/10/courage-and-fear-part-1.html' title='Courage and Fear, part 1'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-3265890025693586839</id><published>2009-12-16T21:09:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T21:17:41.706-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human nature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creation'/><title type='text'>The Critic and the Bird</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What music have I not heard? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What song have I not sung? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Only the bird’s song&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;        has escaped me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The critic never sings,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;but judges the bird on his song. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Evaluating pitch and rhythm,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;        he misses the melody.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What good is pitch,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;if there is no joy?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What rhythm truly beats in time,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;without a metronomic heart? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I could compose a thousand songs, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;but never could I silence the critic&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;or improve the bird.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-3265890025693586839?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/3265890025693586839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=3265890025693586839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/3265890025693586839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/3265890025693586839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2009/12/critic-and-bird.html' title='The Critic and the Bird'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-3481880479010209372</id><published>2009-01-29T15:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T16:23:18.614-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee and Convos</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I had the chance to speak to a group of women in leadership at an E. Free Church here in the cities. We had everyone from the 79 year old woman who has been serving her entire life, and still has more fire in her than some of my own peers, to the 27 year old who recently taken on a position of leadership for the first time. The only similarities among them were that they all loved Jesus and they all had a heart to serve the women around them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was invited to come and talk to them about mentoring. To be honest, I didn't really know what I could tell these women that they didn't already know. When I first arrived, I asked the leader of the event how old the youngest attender was. Come to find out, I was the youngest one there! I really was the odd one out when it came to life experience and history in ministry. But truth is truth regardless of how old the voice, right? Whatever else, I wanted these women to feel encouraged and leave with a renewed perspective of why they do what they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest thing we discussed was what redefining our idea of mentoring. Most people have a top-down model in their heads. A person seeking mentoring has little experience and wants to become a better person, so they seek out a mentor who is older, wiser, and has time to focus on them and their issues. This idea is rather rigid and really self-centered, if you think about it. Visually, this looks like two people sitting across from one another at a coffee shop having a conversation about life. This is not a bad thing, but mentoring is about so much more than just coffee and conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The alternative is a constellation of mentors &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(stealing vocabulary from &lt;a href="http://www.cadreministries.com/"&gt;Cadre Ministries&lt;/a&gt;...thanks guys!)&lt;/span&gt;, where I am being poured into by mentors but I am also pouring into the lives of others around me (peers) and following me (disciples). In order to pour into someone's life (or put more accurately, to overflow into someone's life) we must be a part of their life. Not just sitting at coffee shops, but working, serving, playing together. This is so much more how Jesus did it--he took his disciples everywhere! They watched him lead, teach, care, and rebuke. Then he sent them out to try it themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If every believer was overflowing what the Lord was doing in their life, truly sharing life, with those around them, the kingdom of hell would have a lot more to fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I hear "constellation" I think of Daniel 12:3 which, speaking of the last days when the dead will rise, says, "And those who are wise shall &lt;span class="search-term-1"&gt;shine&lt;/span&gt; like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the &lt;span class="search-term-2"&gt;stars&lt;/span&gt; forever and ever." The light of millions of stars could shine Jesus into the darkest crevices of people's hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mentoring is not for the purpose of making individual people stronger, smarter, or feel better about themselves. It is about building them up to build up the Kingdom of God. The Church is not a school, or a philosophical idea in which we help students iron out the rough spots in their thinking; it is a place where we ought to be equipping warriors with the weapons they need for the battle! This spiritual life is a battle, and not one of us can fight it alone. We need as many warriors as there are stars in the universe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I start to wonder if this is all worth it--all the time put into an individual who walks away, all the energy put into developing a group that ends up turning on you--I remember that this is what Christ has called us for and has promised to be with us to the end. "Go and Make Disciples." Until He returns I can do no less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-3481880479010209372?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/3481880479010209372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=3481880479010209372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/3481880479010209372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/3481880479010209372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2009/01/coffee-and-convos.html' title='Coffee and Convos'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-719036780829606405</id><published>2008-11-11T11:47:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T14:28:19.511-06:00</updated><title type='text'>All you have to be...</title><content type='html'>This weekend I was up at Shamineau again for the Scrap N' Stamp retreat. What? Yes, It's called &lt;a href="http://shamineau.org/CampShamineau/SnS.html"&gt;Scrap N' Stamp&lt;/a&gt;. 180 women come up for the weekend (some stay till Monday!) and scrapbook their photos. I'm not going to spend any more time explaining it, because unless you've seen it or something similar, you'll never understand. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, at these retreats I give chair massages to the ladies for a small fee. This weekend I did more backrubs than I have ever done in one weekend! I was exhausted. This is virtually my only responsibility aside from leading devotions Sunday morning for those who want to come. Saturday night I finally went home at 3am, and just decided I would figure out what I was doing for devos when I woke up. I didn't have to give them until 11am, so I had plenty of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come morning, I roll over and my eyes land on the clock: 10:57. No!!!!! I jump out of bed, try to look a little bit like a person, and call my mom to tell her I was on the way. I had five minutes on the road to decide what the heck I was going to talk about with these women! Then a quote from my dad came into my head, "all you have to be is 30 seconds ahead." Okay, thanks Dad, but now I only have 20 seconds! Ah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrive at camp and walk into the room where there are 15 or so ladies waiting for me. I tell them to keep talking amongst themselves while I "get organized" aka, figure out what the heck I'm doing. If you know me at all, you know I always tend to cut it close when planning teaching things, but I have never in my life been standing in front of a group not knowing what I was about to talk on. It was a rush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it hit me. "I'll talk about rest!" I thought.  "That's wonderfully ironic, it's an easy soapbox for me, and these women are all mothers who never get a weekend for themselves. Perfect!" So I naturally swing over to Matthew 11:28, but there's not enough there. It's pretty straight forward, and I dont think I have enough to say about it. "Where's the hook? The unexpected element? The less obvious truth? Come on..." I know I'm running out of moments to stall. Then I find it. It ended up going somthing like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After admitting I had only awoke 15 minutes earlier, I told them I wanted to talk about rest. That got a good laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matt. 11:28-30 goes like this: "Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you hear? Rest, comfort, open arms, gentleness, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything here that is discouraging, frustrating, or unsettling? The first thing we see here is the invitation to rest, but we tend to ignore the command to take on a yoke. And not even my own yoke, but someone else's! at the risk of sounding selfish (aren't we all, anyway?), why am I carrying someone else's burden, no matter how light it is?? How is that rest, and why does Jesus have the permission to tell us to pick it up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now before you throw me out the window as a heretic, understand that I am not asking these questions with the implication of the answer. Rather, I am asking them because I want the answer I know to be true to be proven from the text, not just because it feels right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoom out a bit. Matt. 11:25-27: "At that time Jesus declared, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hiddn these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. Come to me, all who labor..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Bible makes this all one paragraph. But what does the Father and Son knowing each other have to do with resting, and the yoke? It all comes down to authority. Jesus is establishing here the fact that everything we associate with God, omniscience, omnipresence, omnipotence, is also true of Jesus. The Father has given Jesus ALL authority!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verse 27 could sound very elitist. I guess it is, in some ways. Him being God and all. But in our humanity when we hear someone being elitist we also hear that person saying things that cut them off from the rest of the little people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus would be totally justified here if he would have said, "no one know the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him, so you better shape up if you want to get let into the party."&lt;br /&gt;Or, "...to whom the Son chooses to reveal him, so suck it up if I don't pick you."&lt;br /&gt;Or, "I have have authority, so pick up the yoke, pansy!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says only the Son knows the Father...So Come. What a good God we have who has all power in the universe and beyond but he calls us to himself to come and rest. And he has all the rights to tell us what yoke to carry. And because he is good, he calls us to carry a better load than we have to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the ladies noted that a yoke goes over the back to two oxen, and they cannot pull in opposite directions. I believe there is nothing more tiring that trying to control something that is out of your hands. Like backseat driving, or pining over the poor choices of a loved one. Jesus knows how exhausting this is. If we simply let go of what we don't have control over anyway, recognize He has all the authority, we will begin to learn to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, I believe is where the comfort in Jesus' authority comes from. Not from the fact that he can wallop my enemies, which he can; not that he could wipe me off the face of the earth, which I deserve; but from the fact that Jesus is in utter control frees me up to not worry about it. I can let go, follow the Master, and pull the burden he has for me. Nothing is more freeing than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-719036780829606405?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/719036780829606405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=719036780829606405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/719036780829606405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/719036780829606405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-you-have-to-be.html' title='All you have to be...'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-75240900725595836</id><published>2008-10-22T18:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T13:56:07.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Complete History of My Recent Life (Abridged)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SQNrv2wMt5I/AAAAAAAAAH4/Ywx0i4syReo/s1600-h/IMG_7666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SQNrv2wMt5I/AAAAAAAAAH4/Ywx0i4syReo/s200/IMG_7666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261167259594569618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last night my sister Kelsey and my cousins Emilee and Mikki and myself took a roadtrip to Eau Claire, WI and saw a show. We have been bemoaning the fact that we're all in the same city and never hang out! So we got together to see The Reduced Shakespeare Company's "The Complete History of America (abridged)". It was fantastic! There were moments what were borderline inappropriate, but for the most part, they just fly through 50,000 years of American history in 90 minutes. Seriously. It's a riot. I had been aware of them for awhile, but never seen a show. Eau Claire was the closest they were coming to the Twin Cities, so I knew we had to take the opportunity. I would highly recommend checking out their website www.reducedshakespeare.com. All in all, it was a great time of catching up as cousins and laughing a lot! Good Times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-75240900725595836?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/75240900725595836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=75240900725595836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/75240900725595836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/75240900725595836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/10/complete-history-of-my-recent-life.html' title='The Complete History of My Recent Life (Abridged)'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SQNrv2wMt5I/AAAAAAAAAH4/Ywx0i4syReo/s72-c/IMG_7666.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-4874050224584410517</id><published>2008-09-29T11:24:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T12:05:54.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blasted Cars!</title><content type='html'>If there is one thing that can be counted on causing problems, it is the car. Or any vehicle, really. Just when you start to trust it, when you believe you've found the most reliable, that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; car is the one you were meant to be with, it will all blow up in your face. Such is the relationship of this girl to her car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that my current relationship with my Chevy Malibu is not nearly as rocky as my past relationships: It's not as unpredictable as my Ford Ranger's topper that would fly off on the hwy on my way to school, or it's heater that would decide when it wanted to work, which was typically in the summer. This meant I had to drive to church in a snowmobile suit and Sorel boots, scraping the inside of the windshield with an ice scraper. It's much less annoying than my Ford Escort's engine that was so loud I would end up with a headache and ears ringing if I had to go more than forty miles per hour for too long, so I couldn't hear the radio...even if it had worked... And it's less dangerous than the van that I swear took me into the ditch three times before I finally spun on ice and rammed the back end into a tree...I sure showed that van who's boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, my Malibu has been much better. That is, until last week. I should have seen it coming! Looking back, I see all the signs of trouble, but I wanted to believe this one was different! The chugging, the occasional stalls when I would start it up, the delay between shifting gears, it all was trying to tell my something: it's just like every other car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was going to take something big to wake me out of my denial. Well, that wake up call finally came. I had just left from having coffee with a friend,  and my car chugged again as I started it. I had a foreboding feeling, but it kept running, so I hoped for the best and made a mental note that I should get that checked out "sometime". Shortly after getting on 35W almost into downtown, I realize I'm not accelerating anymore. The end was near. I pulled over to the far side while I still had momentum, and turn it off. I turned it on again, but it wouldn't stay running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the moment I could have chosen to freak out and curse the people who told me the Malibu was more reliable, or I could take a deep breath, accept that cars will always let you down, and call a tow truck. So that's what I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long tow, two days in the shop, and an entire fuel pump system later, my car and I are reunited. It will never be like it was, but there is a renewed level of trust, combined with a little more reality. It will probably let me down again, but heck, I'm not always the nicest to work with either!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I write this, my mother is nursing her Blazer back from Iowa, in which they need to stop every 20 minutes to add water to the radiator. I told her to leave it on the side of the road. "No way! I just got a new transmission and a new gas tank! I'm not letting this one go!" was her response. It's amazing the destructive situations people will stay in, when they have so much put into it already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, am I talking about cars or people? Everything in this blog is factual in relation to my experience with vehicles. How are your relationships?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-4874050224584410517?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/4874050224584410517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=4874050224584410517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4874050224584410517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4874050224584410517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/09/blasted-cars.html' title='Blasted Cars!'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-6753360154290441471</id><published>2008-08-19T11:58:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T12:15:40.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>August Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SKr_Uk3m_zI/AAAAAAAAAGI/RlctR7MUkzg/s1600-h/antiochbw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SKr_Uk3m_zI/AAAAAAAAAGI/RlctR7MUkzg/s200/antiochbw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236278245731008306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Dear Friends,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, what a great summer this has been! We have been incredibly busy with a variety of things, and it has been fun watching the Lord’s hand in all of it. Here are some of the highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Praise the Lord!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;•    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jamie, Andy and I spent a few days at Camp Shamineau’s staff training in June. We prayed with the staff, Jamie taught a seminar on mentoring relationships, I got to build relationships with some amazing young women that are coming to the city in the fall and possibly joining us. Pray they would follow the Lord wherever He leads them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;•    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BUMP week (Bridging Urban Mission Project) was fantastic! It is a week where rural church kids come into the city and do ministry with local urban churches. Local churches made some amazing reaches into their communities because of the students that led VBS, prayer walked, handed out flyers, and played with kids. Pray that some of these students would catch a vision for the city!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;•    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Antioch Community Church (ACC) is growing! Our first public service is October 19th, but we have small groups and are meeting just for fun already! It is really great to see those relationships developing. Please pray for the endless list of details that need to be taken care of before October 19th, and for more people from the community to join us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;•&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;     25 people from ACC took the S.H.A.P.E. class. This is a class that looks at each person’s Spiritual gifts, Heart, Abilities, Personality, and Experiences. Then we take that information and talk about how we as a church body fit together. It was a long day, but a fantastic exercise for many of the people there, and it really shed light on ways we can value and utilize each individual in the church. Pray that it would be a launch pad for people to get a vision of how they can be actively involved in ACC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;•&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    I got to be a speaker! The jr. high youth pastor from Berean Baptist in Burnsville got my name from a mutual friend who recommended me. So, I spoke for the last night of their jr. high VBS-like event they do every summer. They are doing great ministry down there, and it was fun to be a part of it. You can read more about this on my blog, if you’re interested. Please pray for more opportunities like this for me to get into churches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;The Greatest Need?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no denying the fact that we all need money. And the current economy is an incessant reminder of how little it seems there is to go around. Unfortunately, that has become the case with my support-raising fund. The generosity of many one-time gifts has been an incredible blessing, but I do not have enough monthly gifts to sustain the hours I have been working for Antioch. I really do no like saying that money is my greatest need right now; the greatest need in ministry is always prayer. However, at this point I cannot continue until I have enough financial support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One wonderful new development is that we now have Direct Deposit available! This is a giant answer to prayer, as it makes a lot of peoples’ jobs much easier and it’s easier for individuals to give. If you are interested in utilizing that service, information is enclosed with this letter.&lt;br /&gt;Please be in prayer about how you can be a financial partner in this ministry. If you know of anyone you think would be interested in what I am doing, let me know or pass this letter on to them! I am still confident this is what the Lord has called me to, and I trust He will provide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an adventure, to live a life of trust,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Coley Bloomquist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;P.S. My cell phone number has changed. Email me or check facebook if you don't have it!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-6753360154290441471?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/6753360154290441471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=6753360154290441471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6753360154290441471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6753360154290441471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/08/dear-friends-wow-what-great-summer-this.html' title='August Update'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SKr_Uk3m_zI/AAAAAAAAAGI/RlctR7MUkzg/s72-c/antiochbw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-4693999000895839901</id><published>2008-08-02T14:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T15:34:33.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surreal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hello Again!&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I've been AWOL. A lot has happened, but I'm not going to spend lots of time updating about the past two months; I'm just going to start up again. I know that's going to drive all three of my readers crazy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a chance to speak to about 300 junior highers at Berean Baptist in Burnsville for their last night of a VBS-like week for kids going in to 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. I have not been the sole speaker to any group larger than 30 in at least two years! I was nervous for that reason, and I really didn't know how I was going to do. I think it went alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of my own accord I do not have any connection with Berean.  But I got connected with them because their Jr High youth pastor Jesse called my friend Georgia looking for guest speakers. She put me on a list of top recommendations for jr. high and high school! That in itself blew me away! I really don't feel like I have enough experience to be put in that category, but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked them if I could get a copy of the recording so I could go back and listen to myself and feel stupid. Don't tell me not to, everyone does. If you've ever heard your own voice you know what I'm talking about. We sound differently in our heads than we do to others, and it takes some getting used to. Add to that all the talk ticks* we have in our speech patterns, and listening to yourself for 30 minutes becomes a very humbling experience. I just listened to it, and realistically I don't think it's that bad, but it still makes me wonder why in the world anyone lets me talk. ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had 20-25 minutes in the schedule. When he asked if that would be okay, I kind of knew he meant of I felt like I would be able to fill it. Yes sir, not a problem. Bloomquists are not known for their terse speaking engagements, so I knew I would by nature write something for 45 minutes. So I desperately wanted to prove to myself and Jesse that I could stick to the time frame. I knew there was a clock I could see from the stage, so I was going to rely on that. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;must&lt;/span&gt;  be done by 8:30. I hadn't looked at the clock right when I got up there, but I didn't think that mattered. 8:30 was my time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I looked up part-way through; it read 9:12. What?!?! There is no way I have already been speaking for over an hour!! Then I remembered overhearing someone say the clock was wrong. Perfect time to remember such a thing. Since I didn't know when I had started, I had no idea how much time I had used, aside from my internal clock, which is only so reliable. Or not so reliable. I decided I just had to keep going, albeit quickly, and hope for the best. I finished and looked at my phone in the back: 30 minutes on the button! Thank you hereditary speaking methods!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love speaking to youth because it forces me to stay limber. Adults can get so caught up in the theoretical (especially college students), but if you're not applicable to life in the moment of a jr. higher, you're never going to reach them. I hope I get to do it more in the future, it was fun. Maybe next time I won't say "guys" and "like" so much. Then again, who am I kidding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*"talk ticks" are those things in our speech that our ears ignore until there are so many of them it becomes the only thing we hear, i.e. like, um, so, uh, ya know, but, yeah. or my favorite, "but um like yeah, right?" Thank you Mr. Schaefer of SMHS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-4693999000895839901?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/4693999000895839901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=4693999000895839901' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4693999000895839901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4693999000895839901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/08/surreal.html' title='Surreal'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-5935326346216972662</id><published>2008-06-26T23:53:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T12:01:50.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Open your Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Last week at &lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);" href="http://www.hopecc.com/"&gt;Hope Community Church&lt;/a&gt; Pastor Steve spoke about sin. Now, he's currently on a 10- turned 12-week sermon series on sin, so that is not a terribly helpful statement, but you can go on their website and listen to the message if you really want to know the details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As illustrations, he talked about three guys in the Bible who encountered God: Moses, Isaiah, and Peter, and he talked about how drastically different their lives were after that encounter. His examples were the stories of the burning bush and Moses&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; (which really should be called the non-burning bush, don't you think?),&lt;/span&gt; and Isaiah's vision of the throne room of God. Those two make sense; these measly men get their worlds rocked when God defies the laws of nature, time, and space to reveal himself showing how different God is from Man and then calls them to do His will nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What got me thinking was not a point he made, albeit they were good, but rather the tangent to which his points sent my brain. This third example was the day Peter and his buddies had struck out fishing, but when Jesus joined them and Peter did what he said they caught so much it almost made two boats sink. For Peter, that encounter with Christ was just as world-rocking as Isaiah's vision of six-winged flaming angels. &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(Alright, the flaming thing is a guess, but they're called &lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seraphim"&gt;seraphim&lt;/a&gt; for crying out loud! They at least had to be really, really bright.)&lt;/span&gt; Peter's response to Jesus is very similar to Isaiah's and Moses'. But why? Couldn't it have just been another guy God decided to do a miracle through to show His power? Why did Peter respond so drastically, dropping everything to follow Jesus at that very moment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter's response was so drastic because he was not simply in the presence of another prophet, but God Incarnate. I don't know what in Jesus' being made that fact clear, but it was clearer than anything Peter had ever seen before. He knew he was in the presence of God. Why else would Peter have left everything in that moment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mulled this over in the pew, a question raised in my mind. Do I read the New Testament as though Jesus is just as jaw-dropping as the glory of God in the Old Testament? Do I ponder what it must have been like to see God–fully God–in flesh? Moreover, do I live as though Jesus has just as much power, majesty, and might as God the Father? In my everyday speech and theological conversations I am aware to avoid sounding like  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);" href="http://www.basictheology.com/definitions/Modalism/"&gt;Modalism&lt;/a&gt;, but  when the rubber meets the road, do I live with true belief that Jesus is God and as such has sovereignty over all the situations that bring me fear and doubt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't, I am not living a life of trust. Worse, I am acting like God is a liar and not who He says He is and not able to do what He says He can do. The truth is that Jesus was, is, and always will be fully God. It could be that I am missing the glory He wants to show of himself to me because I refuse to see him as he is. Does that sound cyclical? Perhaps. Open your eyes and see Jesus for who He is and maybe our jaws will drop too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-5935326346216972662?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/5935326346216972662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=5935326346216972662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/5935326346216972662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/5935326346216972662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/06/forever-glorious.html' title='Open your Eyes'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-6124500242763771086</id><published>2008-06-11T11:44:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T12:01:50.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend Away</title><content type='html'>I'm still working on the teach/preach thing, but I realized I forgot to post pics from my grandparents cabin a few weekends ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends Carrie and Jen came up with me to get away and rest for a few days. Here are the highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made Monster Cookies,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADqWDgFkI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cfLGsU3f9K0/s1600-h/IMG_7102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADqWDgFkI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cfLGsU3f9K0/s320/IMG_7102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210668794877318722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Played Dominoes, of course,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFAB6IahkSI/AAAAAAAAAEg/hSwgpMlOOps/s1600-h/IMG_7109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFAB6IahkSI/AAAAAAAAAEg/hSwgpMlOOps/s320/IMG_7109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210666867070439714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Looked at the stars from the dock (I don't know what's wrong with me),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFAC4ZronYI/AAAAAAAAAEw/jplJ9GyPTHQ/s1600-h/IMG_7136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFAC4ZronYI/AAAAAAAAAEw/jplJ9GyPTHQ/s320/IMG_7136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210667936857496962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Carrie and I took the canoe out to watch the sun &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;rise,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADB5mNEFI/AAAAAAAAAE4/E3ct_mKDVCo/s1600-h/IMG_7141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADB5mNEFI/AAAAAAAAAE4/E3ct_mKDVCo/s320/IMG_7141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210668100043477074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADLbzggFI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jG2w97XnJjs/s1600-h/IMG_7145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADLbzggFI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jG2w97XnJjs/s320/IMG_7145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210668263844905042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and we went for a freezing cold boat ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFAEpDXRHbI/AAAAAAAAAFg/472xxVjwWv8/s1600-h/IMG_7162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFAEpDXRHbI/AAAAAAAAAFg/472xxVjwWv8/s320/IMG_7162.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210669872191708594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADcUo8bNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/oRrzXniOFkI/s1600-h/IMG_7159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADcUo8bNI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/oRrzXniOFkI/s320/IMG_7159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210668553979325650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADVlBz6FI/AAAAAAAAAFI/fQf8IPp4BEU/s1600-h/IMG_7158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADVlBz6FI/AAAAAAAAAFI/fQf8IPp4BEU/s320/IMG_7158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210668438119508050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All in all, it was a much needed getaway for some R&amp;amp;R. Although I hope the next time I go up, it will be warmer than 60 degrees!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-6124500242763771086?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/6124500242763771086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=6124500242763771086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6124500242763771086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6124500242763771086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/06/weekend-away.html' title='Weekend Away'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SFADqWDgFkI/AAAAAAAAAFY/cfLGsU3f9K0/s72-c/IMG_7102.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-3709463758924825924</id><published>2008-05-27T16:12:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T18:29:21.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the Difference?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When Jesus  had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" class="textsearch" &gt;teach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" class="textsearch" &gt;preach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt; in their cities." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Matthew 11:1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Teacher. Speaker. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Preacher. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lecturer. Trainer. Educator. Mentor. What do you see in this list: synonyms, distinct offices, or just confused overspeak? English has so many words for these type of people and, based on how they are used in culture, the differences between them can be miniscule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you hear the word &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;preacher&lt;/span&gt;, is this what you see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVM2HbVtI/AAAAAAAAAD8/V_pB5mdbciM/s1600-h/billy-graham-1951.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVM2HbVtI/AAAAAAAAAD8/V_pB5mdbciM/s320/billy-graham-1951.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205199317251086034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Or this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVT2HbVuI/AAAAAAAAAEE/6SqlQhxUgsE/s1600-h/billy5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVT2HbVuI/AAAAAAAAAEE/6SqlQhxUgsE/s320/billy5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205199437510170338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you hear &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;teacher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;, do you see this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVqWHbVvI/AAAAAAAAAEM/psvSa3tiC58/s1600-h/3229404895.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 172px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVqWHbVvI/AAAAAAAAAEM/psvSa3tiC58/s320/3229404895.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205199824057226994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Throughout the last few months, a question has ebbed and flowed in my mind: what is the difference between &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;teaching&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;preaching&lt;/span&gt;? My gut tells me there is one, but I have never seen a sufficient definition for them. I'm not implying they aren't out there, but they have yet to cross my path. (I thought about putting dictionary definitions here, but they were too worthless to waste space on.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the New Testament we see the words "teach" and "preach" used together and separately, by many different writers. In the near future I intend on doing a word study of "teach" and "preach" in the OT and NT, but for now I want to set the stage. This is the beginning of a thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; I know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;American English (the only language for which I can speak with any shred of authority) often uses "preach" as a subset to a more general "teach." I suspect this is inaccurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;They are very similar, but have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;key&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; differences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is more than the size of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;audience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is more than the style of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;delivery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is more than the content of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;message&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The thing that makes those last three points true is the "more than," because I think audience, delivery, and message are a part of it, but the difference cannot be defined by those. They are more descriptive than prescriptive, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? What is the difference between Teaching and Preaching? Ever heard a good definition of either? Have your own opinion? I want to hear it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-3709463758924825924?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/3709463758924825924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=3709463758924825924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/3709463758924825924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/3709463758924825924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/05/whats-difference-beginning-of-thought.html' title='What&apos;s the Difference?'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDyVM2HbVtI/AAAAAAAAAD8/V_pB5mdbciM/s72-c/billy-graham-1951.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-7999491221028206953</id><published>2008-05-22T20:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:15:10.892-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Playing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last night we had Core Team Training, like every Wednesday, at O'Rourke's. I was there much too early, but I was in the area with nothing to do and it didn't make sense to go all the way home beforehand. So I showed up and chatted with Andy and Sara, and worked on my computer a little bit. Ava (3 year old) was enamored with my computer. I opened Photo Booth and she about died. I think we took pictures of her for twenty minutes! If we got a really funny one, she would belly laugh so hard, and scream. It was super funny. Eventually Paisley (8 year old) showed up, and thought it was great too. Of course Lil' Bubba had to some see what was up, but I don't think he quite appreciated it. Well, I can't tell you all of this without showing some of them to you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZMWHbVoI/AAAAAAAAADU/Sm5AtNAbltU/s1600-h/Photo+34.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZMWHbVoI/AAAAAAAAADU/Sm5AtNAbltU/s320/Photo+34.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203374119359043202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZY2HbVpI/AAAAAAAAADc/ADfDOAOCkSc/s1600-h/Photo+38.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZY2HbVpI/AAAAAAAAADc/ADfDOAOCkSc/s320/Photo+38.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203374334107408018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZ4WHbVrI/AAAAAAAAADs/-ZbOIZ9xgLw/s1600-h/Photo+49.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZ4WHbVrI/AAAAAAAAADs/-ZbOIZ9xgLw/s320/Photo+49.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203374875273287346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZimHbVqI/AAAAAAAAADk/esMLpqcgJAA/s1600-h/Photo+39.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZimHbVqI/AAAAAAAAADk/esMLpqcgJAA/s320/Photo+39.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203374501611132578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYaImHbVsI/AAAAAAAAAD0/PhfPmdBR1R0/s1600-h/Photo+65.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYaImHbVsI/AAAAAAAAAD0/PhfPmdBR1R0/s320/Photo+65.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203375154446161602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-7999491221028206953?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/7999491221028206953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=7999491221028206953' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7999491221028206953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7999491221028206953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/05/just-playing.html' title='Just Playing'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDYZMWHbVoI/AAAAAAAAADU/Sm5AtNAbltU/s72-c/Photo+34.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-5076814152382771598</id><published>2008-05-21T10:26:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:15:39.131-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lately</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Clearly I am bad at keeping this thing consistently updated, but I figure that if I get up one post a month you won't think I'm dead :) Here are some snapshots of what I've been up to recently:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDREBvli-jI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Ly2TAioeDFU/s1600-h/IMG_7057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDREBvli-jI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Ly2TAioeDFU/s320/IMG_7057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202858266264271410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I went back to camp last week for the Youth Workers' Retreat, but I got to stay at home. This is a storm that kept trying to rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDRFN_li-lI/AAAAAAAAADE/vJha2mMJ398/s1600-h/IMG_7038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDRFN_li-lI/AAAAAAAAADE/vJha2mMJ398/s320/IMG_7038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202859576229296722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDRFuvli-mI/AAAAAAAAADM/Wh8VPf6GiSs/s1600-h/IMG_7025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDRFuvli-mI/AAAAAAAAADM/Wh8VPf6GiSs/s320/IMG_7025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202860138870012514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A couple of weeks ago, my little sister Anna (age 8) told me a story about how they lost power at the house, an outlet melted, the phone jumped across the room shooting lightening, and pictures fell off the wall during a storm. This is the tree that was struck by lightening, in case you couldn't figure that out on your own!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More has been going on, but that's all I have for now!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-5076814152382771598?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/5076814152382771598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=5076814152382771598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/5076814152382771598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/5076814152382771598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/05/lately.html' title='Lately'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SDREBvli-jI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Ly2TAioeDFU/s72-c/IMG_7057.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-6373276433688378884</id><published>2008-04-24T16:40:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T11:33:21.644-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><title type='text'>Taking Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SBEHSBNn3ZI/AAAAAAAAACc/XAFwKGytTMc/s1600-h/IMG_6949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SBEHSBNn3ZI/AAAAAAAAACc/XAFwKGytTMc/s320/IMG_6949.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192939851479506322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This title could have many multiple meanings, and I will probably touch on several of them. First this pic is from me and my roomate Carrie taking time to go to a great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://javatraincoffee.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;coffee shop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;near us in order to do "stupid crap" we didn't want to do. But look how greatly she matches the walls! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Another way this phrase has been rolling through my mind is that I need to be taking more time to be alone with Jesus. I have a hunch He's been getting jealous of my time usage. That hunch comes from the fact that a series of things have happened which have completely disrupt my plans. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;About two weeks ago, I was supposed to go back to Staples for a musical, but instead I ended up with a dead car on an exit ramp after running out of gas. I know, it was completely my fault. So as I sat there waiting for a friend, I opened my Bible. "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that suffering produces perseverance." Yep, I flipped right to James 1. And I got the hint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Then yesterday, I had spent an absurd amount of time on this very computer. It kind of crossed my mind that some of that time could have been spent better, but I justified it by saying a lot of the time was at work, doing work, and there wasn't really another option! I ate dinner outside with a friend and I pulled out my computer to show her something. Instead, the wind tipped over my water glass right on to the keyboard! It didn't turn on. Surprisingly, the potential wrecked technology didn't bother me. I took it as another not-so-subtle hint. PTL, it turned on shortly after Core Team training, after we prayed about it, and Nate looked at it. I'm really glad I don't have to pay to have it fixed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Then today. I met Molly at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.overflowespressocafe.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Overflow Cafe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; for two hours of fantastic fellowship. I went out to my car, only to discover I had left my lights on and not even my electronic locks would work! A nice guy from inside the cafe gave me a jump (it took 20 minutes to recharge!) and then I finally went about my day. While I was running errands, I saw a friend a little ways off. But because my head was full of all my own stuff, I walked by and pretended I hadn't noticed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So what have we learned? Coley is a space cadet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Well, I won't deny it. But I also know that when I get this distracted and crazy, my soul is running on empty. That works about as well for myself as it did for my car. I beg you, please take time before this starts to sound like your life. If it already does sound like this, or worse, Stop it! Rest in your Father. Take some time to recharge, refill, rest. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-6373276433688378884?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/6373276433688378884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=6373276433688378884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6373276433688378884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6373276433688378884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/04/taking-time.html' title='Taking Time'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/SBEHSBNn3ZI/AAAAAAAAACc/XAFwKGytTMc/s72-c/IMG_6949.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-7922978133637303750</id><published>2008-04-17T18:51:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T21:46:03.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I'm Just That Brilliant (alternative title: Think About Sugar!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This morning I decided I wanted beef stew for dinner. Now, I don't usually think about dinner at 9 in the morning, but this requires 8 hours in the crock-pot, so I kind of had to. For just throwing in random veggies, potatoes and meat it turned out pretty good! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;At the last minute I decided we needed some corn bread with it. Jiffy corn bread is about as low maintenance as you can get while still having some taste. All it takes is an egg and a little milk. If only...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Instead of 1/3 cup milk, I put in 1 and 1/3 cups! Yes math majors, that is 4 times too much. Thankfully I had two more packages, so I was able to make it work, but I now have corn bread coming out my ears. All in all, dinner turned out well and I have more of that as well! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Regarding the alternative title: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;One day when Kelsey and I were home we decided to make chocolate chip cookies...not a rare occasion. Everything was going fine until Kelsey put in way too much salt (Kels, was it two or four times the amount?). Either way, the cookies came out only okay. That might be stretching it. So while we ate them (no one else wanted to!) we told each other to "think about sugar!" It didn't help. But now it comes up again any time we screw up a recipe. I'm sure we'll have even bigger mistakes in the future, and when that time comes, I'll be sure to tell you about them. &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/7669359389442699601-7922978133637303750?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/7922978133637303750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=7922978133637303750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7922978133637303750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7922978133637303750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/04/because-im-just-that-brilliant.html' title='Because I&apos;m Just That Brilliant (alternative title: Think About Sugar!)'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-4879009587580205150</id><published>2008-04-16T15:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T16:09:04.512-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Done!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have survived the NCD Annual Conference! It was 48 hours (over three days) of PowerPoints, videos, logistics, and chatting. I think there were more video ad screen-reliant things this year than previous. It was sometimes like a zoo without locks on the cages, but every animal was put in it's place eventually. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I drove back from rochester and went straight to a park with Jess. It was the first nap in the sun this year...so wonderful! Tomorrow I'll probably have to go to the office a little, but not too much hopefully. I am excited to get back to person-to-person ministry, which has been lacking in the last couple of weeks because of Conference prep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Next up, Student Ministries Conference! Another annual conference, but for kids. That's more my forte. I'm teaching a seminar at it...maybe I should think about...what's my topic? Oh yeah, The Bible. No biggie. I should be able to narrow that down nicely for 45 mintues...please think of me in your prayers! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-4879009587580205150?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/4879009587580205150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=4879009587580205150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4879009587580205150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/4879009587580205150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/04/its-done.html' title='It&apos;s Done!'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-6696720998055062221</id><published>2008-04-13T11:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T11:37:35.834-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never a Dull Moment</title><content type='html'>I&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; know it's an over-used phrase, but there truly has been no dull moment in the last month. Today the Annual Conference for the North Central District begins. My life has been consumed by District Reports, double-sided printings, spiral binding machines, and collating. They've actually been calling me "Coley the Collator." Yeah. But this evening the ball starts rolling, and hopefully the track is set. It is especially at these times when my dad saying, "All you have to be is 30 seconds ahead," runs through my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;On Friday I was supposed to go home to see my high school's production of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. My sister choreographed it, and a good friend of mine directed it. Unfortunately (now, this is the short version), I ran out of gas on my way back to my apartment. As I was pulled over on the entrance ramp to 35W-south, waiting for my wonderful friend Jen Wallis to rescue me, I sat. I decided that perhaps the Lord had been desiring my attention for some time, and perhaps I should use this required waiting period to spend it with him. I grabbed my Bible and it fell open to Matthew. That didn't feel right, so I thumbed through the NT. James looked good. Of course, the first thing I read is, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds..." I had totally forgotten that was in James when I stopped there. How could I not see that coming! Obviously the Lord wanted me to slow down, and if the only way that was going to happen was to literally run out of gas, then so be it. It never ceases to amaze me the lengths He will go to get back His kids. This is the kind of jealousy He has--our Father allows no play, car, friends, or schedule to push Him out of the way...no matter what I do about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Is life going to get any less crazy? Probably not soon. But, at least for now I know what's most important. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What an adventure&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;to live a life of trust. &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/7669359389442699601-6696720998055062221?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/6696720998055062221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=6696720998055062221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6696720998055062221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6696720998055062221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/04/never-dull-moment.html' title='Never a Dull Moment'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-7651136053041230798</id><published>2008-03-17T11:20:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T12:41:37.094-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R96njKjVsQI/AAAAAAAAABs/3M77WAqLmXU/s1600-h/IMG_6617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R96njKjVsQI/AAAAAAAAABs/3M77WAqLmXU/s320/IMG_6617.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178760844092485890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know! It's been waaay too long since my last post. And it's not because there hasn't been anything to say, I just haven't known how to summarize. So what have I been up to? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Well, the last two weekends have been &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shamineau.org/CampShamineau/SnS.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Scrap 'N Stamp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; retreats at Camp Shamineau. I go to those retreats and offer the ladies chair massages. It's not a bad side job, although this last weekend I overexerted myself a little. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Before I went to camp, on Thursday I went up to Duluth to visit my old high school friends Michael Bach and Matthew Olsen. Matt was in a show at UMD, and I hadn't seen him act in a while. It also was a prime opportunity to get out. As I drove out of the cities, I got progressively more excited, to the point of giddy. It felt so good to be driving alone, but not to work or school or camp or home. I was on a mini road trip! It was a beautiful day, and the sun was out but not in my eyes the whole way there. When I made it to Duluth, Michael didn't really know what to do with me, I was so wired. So we went for a hike up Ely's Peak. It's a great little ridge just outside of Duluth. I didn't want to risk getting my shoes wet because I knew I needed them for Saturday, so I wore my Chacos. It was so nice out! The wind just about threw us off the ridge, but it was really  The snow was a little deep, but I don't think I got any permanent frostbite. He was also dog-sitting, so she came with us too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;That night we went and saw Matt's show. Matthew, I've told you this before, but you are fantastic. The show is great too--no one should listen to the critic who gave them a bad review the next day. The next morning before I left town I met Matt for coffee, since the night before was too late to hang out. He is one who I always love talking to because as much as things change in our lives we always seem to stay fundamentally the same. Such a refreshing conversation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So then I was on my way to camp. The short version of my weekend is that I hardly stopped from the moment I got there on Friday till I left on Sunday. I got back to the cities just in time to go to a community group gathering for Antioch Community Church. It's so fun to see us begin to look like a church! We're starting to really know and care for each other, and enjoy each other's company. if you want to see pictures, go &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2024846&amp;amp;l=32491&amp;amp;id=110901299"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Now it is Monday, and I have no plans. That is such a relief! Hopefully this day will turn into a real day of rest.  Hope you all have a great day too! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-7651136053041230798?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/7651136053041230798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=7651136053041230798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7651136053041230798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7651136053041230798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/03/getting-out.html' title='Getting Out'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R96njKjVsQI/AAAAAAAAABs/3M77WAqLmXU/s72-c/IMG_6617.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-781132951526495010</id><published>2008-02-23T08:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T08:57:00.116-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Why is the Saturday Sun so different from the rest of the suns? More beautiful, shimmering on the frozen land; more loathsome in my eyes, piercing cotton and down. A silent invader of many a depressed mind, the Saturday Sun explodes with violent directness refusing to be ignored or forgotten. Monday Sun only dreams of being as distinguished. But alas, Monday will never be the welcomed Sun. Is the Saturday Sun truly so different from all the others? Perhaps the only change is that we finally have time to look. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-781132951526495010?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/781132951526495010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=781132951526495010' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/781132951526495010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/781132951526495010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/02/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-2222047103642727152</id><published>2008-02-12T09:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T10:07:58.434-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer Mom Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; "&gt;This week, my parents are on a cruise for their 25th anniversary. Their anniversary isn't until April, but this was the chance they had, so they took it. Kelsey and I were thrilled because it means we don't have to plan a surprise party or anything for them. What that means, is that Anna (my 8-yr-old sister) has been left in my care from last friday to this coming Saturday. The beauty of my job and the way my life is right now is that I can have the flexibility to be wherever I need to be. So, this week I am at home through Wednesday so Anna can go to school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; "&gt;This weekend we were in the cities to spend some time with cousins, and Anna and I decided we wanted to see the movies Enchanted. I realize this is not really a new movie anymore, but we hadn't had time to see it yet! I looked it up online and found out it was playing at the IMAX at the zoo--right around the corner from my grandparents, where we were staying. That's perfect! Anna and I went to the zoo, and a lot of other people were there for the movie too, but something didn't feel right. There were no other kids. It was more like date night for Gen-X.  I brushed off the feeling of impending doom and got some popcorn. But then talking to the box office I realized the truth. They weren't showing Enchanted, they were showing U2-3D! They looked at my like I was an idiot. But the web told me.... I felt better when another mom and daughter came in, making the same mistake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R7HCmsh6EAI/AAAAAAAAABk/ohWJ-LZiT5M/s1600-h/IMG_6450.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R7HCmsh6EAI/AAAAAAAAABk/ohWJ-LZiT5M/s320/IMG_6450.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166124217614864386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I told her to look sad for this pic. She was a little bummed, but she was a good sport about it and we went home and watched Ratatoullie instead. We're going to try and see it later this week. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Don't worry, I fully expect more mistakes and screwups this week. Ah,remind me to tell you about our granola making experience last night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-2222047103642727152?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/2222047103642727152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=2222047103642727152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/2222047103642727152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/2222047103642727152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/02/soccer-mom-week.html' title='Soccer Mom Week'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R7HCmsh6EAI/AAAAAAAAABk/ohWJ-LZiT5M/s72-c/IMG_6450.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-747418461914224894</id><published>2008-01-28T15:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T16:18:21.124-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bono'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>Dill Pickle Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;The car creeps inconspicuously past a restaurant where a policeman is on the lookout outside. As the car passes, the police recognize the man in the back seat, and give chase. Suddenly, no one else is left in the car and the man in the back seat has to scramble to the front to drive. He only makes a short distance before the engine seizes and he is forced to get out and run. The police shoot him 6 or 7 times in the back, but he still is outrunning them as he falls into a doorway in an alley. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Beep! Beep! Beep!" said the alarm, before I whipped it across the room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;That was the last scene of a really complex dream I had last night. I won't waste your time with the whole story, but I think the man in the back seat was played by Bono... I never dream, so this was pretty bizarre. Although, as a kid I did have a recurring dream of playing baseball with Charlie Brown and friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I don't know why I dreamt last night as opposed to any other night, but I think it was some combination of the dill pickle chips I had not long before I went to bed, and the number of times Jack Bauer came up in conversation at Community Group last night. Seriously, we were a bunch of space cadets. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In case you couldn't tell, I'm still sick. I got off the couch once to go outside because it's 40 degrees out today (!), but before I made it around the block I felt really sick again. I took the hint and haven't left the rest of the day. My friends and roomates have been telling me to rest, but it's amazing how hard that is when it's so nice out! I hope some of you have had the chance to enjoy the weather for me. If you haven't, you should because tomorrow is supposed to be in the teens again. Eesh. Well, I'm going to go try and rest again. I'll let you know if I have any other 24 meets U2 3D dreams again--although I really hope I don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Correction: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My friend I talk about in the Tinker Toys post did some research. Those pieces with all the holes are actually called "hubs." I feel like I should have known that! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-747418461914224894?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/747418461914224894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=747418461914224894' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/747418461914224894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/747418461914224894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/01/dill-pickle-dreams.html' title='Dill Pickle Dreams'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-7166559980198657076</id><published>2008-01-24T13:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T13:58:59.630-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tinker Toys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Service'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crossroads'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R5jt6Akn9tI/AAAAAAAAABc/aRNFy9p0fwc/s1600-h/maingraphic-tinkertoys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R5jt6Akn9tI/AAAAAAAAABc/aRNFy9p0fwc/s320/maingraphic-tinkertoys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159134953994712786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, just how amazing are tinker toys? I'd say they're pretty incredible. You can build anything with them, and no one can say they are too old for them. For tactile learners, it's a great way to think with one's hands. And I'm sure it wouldn't be considered professional, but maybe they could be on the table of a building project brainstorming meeting. Just a thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In reality, it's just a bucket of painted scrap wood and leftover plastic packaging materials! But how lame would the toy be if it weren't for those round little hubs with all the holes in them? I remember playing with my own set as a kid, and being perfectly happy until I was playing with a newer set at a friend's house, and they had a pulley! It was so cool, and we all wanted to use the pulley in our own projects. But without those hubs, we wouldn't have been able to build anything more than a pile for pick-up-sticks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I talked with a friend last night who said she felt like a Tinker Toy. Not too flashy, but the only connection between seemingly unconnected pieces. It seems there are some people in life (I would say I am one as well) who are designed to be people in the crossroads; the hubs of the tinker toy creation. Some are designed to go out from hubs, others are designed to return. Then there are those hubs to just sit...or so it feels sometimes. But God, in His wisdom and mercy, is building the most elaborate Tinker Toy project with our lives. By making us with different gifts and purposes, He is able to build what He desires. Paul says about the Body of Christ (the church), &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you,' nor again the head to the feet, 'I have no need of you.' On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker  are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor..."  (I Corinthians 12:21-23)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;To look at our fellow Christians and see their skills and design as less valuable than our own is about as ridiculous as opening your toy chest to discover your Tinker Toys have been fighting. So take heart, you were bought with a price and the Lord has glorious designs in His mind that he is still building. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-7166559980198657076?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/7166559980198657076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=7166559980198657076' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7166559980198657076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7166559980198657076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/01/so-just-how-amazing-are-tinker-toys-id.html' title=''/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R5jt6Akn9tI/AAAAAAAAABc/aRNFy9p0fwc/s72-c/maingraphic-tinkertoys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-8494202443372736482</id><published>2008-01-21T17:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T18:13:17.035-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired Hands</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This Saturday was my 24th birthday. I've never been one to make a big deal about my own birthdays, so I didn't care that I had to work Thursday to Sunday. Now, when I say "work" I don't mean your usual 9 to 5, or even church/ministry stuff. I wasn't even at Camp. No, I spent my weekend with 70 women decked out in pink and up to their ears in scrapbooking supplies. That's right, I was at the Delta Phi Scrappa, the sorority for scrapbookers, yearly initiation event.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;                                                               &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://deltaphiscrappa.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;img border="1" src="http://deltaphiscrappa.com/Everything%20Else/StorePics/GiftLogo.jpg" width="200" height="80" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This is group like few others. These women get together to spend their weekends away from their crazy children, family, and jobs in exchange for laughter, community, and...I almost forgot: scrapbooking.  It's not really a sorority like in colleges, but the "freshmen" (1st timers) have to wear beanies, they have opportunities to earn grades (points) and whoever has the most at the end of the weekend they announce the pledge class president. You really should see &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://deltaphiscrappa.com/Initiation06GalleryA.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;pictures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In the process, they also like to get pampered so they can come to me for a seated chair massage. This is like a side job to my side jobs that some of my friends don't even know about. I'll probably regret posting that here. Ever seen the people who give backrubs in the middle of the mall? Picture that, and you pretty much know what I did all weekend. I organize my time by 10 minute intervals (four+ per hour), so it gives me plenty of breaks, but by Sunday morning I wake up feeling like I've been hit by a Mac truck. This year I gave 38 total.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I know this is not how some of you like to spend your birthdays and you think I'm crazy, but I have to say I truly enjoyed it. I, however, will never wear as much pink as these ladies. &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/7669359389442699601-8494202443372736482?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/8494202443372736482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=8494202443372736482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/8494202443372736482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/8494202443372736482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/01/tired-hands.html' title='Tired Hands'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-7423462048092188851</id><published>2008-01-15T19:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T20:23:17.149-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='support'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Liberia'/><title type='text'>We're in Business!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Friends, thanks to your wonderfully generous gifts I now have enough support raised to begin working! That does not mean my entire year is covered (or even half), but it does mean that I have enough to start doing more than prayer and designing business cards. I think they look great, by the way. :) I honestly still don't know what this means in detail, but I am sure my first week will be filled with questions like, "who is that person, and how are they related to us?" That should be fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Prayer request: My dad and a Liberian pastor from the Twin Cities are currently in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberia"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Liberia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; for two weeks to meet with people and work on developing a youth camp over there. The things God has been doing to bring it all about, is amazing. Please pray for health--clean food is sometimes elusive--and safety, though that is less crucial since the civil war is over. Also for my mother who is totally supportive, but this leaves her at home with my 8 yr. old sister with camp life still going on. They return the 26th. If you can't remember which one is Liberia: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img alt="Location of Liberia" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/21/LocationLiberia.svg/250px-LocationLiberia.svg.png" width="250" height="125" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;img alt="Map of Liberia" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/2e/Li-map.png/200px-Li-map.png" width="200" height="214" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-7423462048092188851?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/7423462048092188851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=7423462048092188851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7423462048092188851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/7423462048092188851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/01/were-in-business.html' title='We&apos;re in Business!'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-5275856432424007109</id><published>2008-01-08T15:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T20:23:55.582-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Words on Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;We have been given the gift of language, and each word is precious. A speech with many words, however, does not equal the sum of its parts. Words, like jewels, are only valuable in their rarity. Overuse of words can turn them from a treasure to trash. This is true of words in general and individually. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;For instance, in English we have one word for deep affection: Love. We can say we "love" God, but we also "love" our shoes. We "love" our families, we "love" our friends, we "love" to work, we "love" ourselves. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;"Obviously those don't all mean the same thing!" one might say. Clearly. Maybe we can use one word for all those things since our thoughts and beliefs dictate our language. But, our language also dictates our thoughts and beliefs.  Perhaps if we had more words for love we would learn to love more deeply.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R4ZFC-vEkfI/AAAAAAAAAAs/GCdHB_nfczs/s320/mime-attachment-7.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153882741074596338" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-5275856432424007109?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/5275856432424007109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=5275856432424007109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/5275856432424007109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/5275856432424007109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2008/01/few-words-on-words.html' title='A Few Words on Words'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/R4ZFC-vEkfI/AAAAAAAAAAs/GCdHB_nfczs/s72-c/mime-attachment-7.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-2288871821576882190</id><published>2007-12-11T18:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T18:37:09.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So Much Paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I have finally finished writing, printing, stuffing, and stamping support letters! Watch your mailboxes, friends...you may have something from me. My brain has been unable to focus fully on anything else until the letters were done. It will be nice to be able to have conversations again!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Yesterday I substitute taught 4th graders at Chapel Hill Academy. 4th grade can be challenging, but these kids were awesome! They did just about everything the first time I asked, and at one point in the day they had quiet work time for almost 45 minutes. Typically, that would be a disaster waiting to happen, but with this classroom it was fine! It was almost too easy. More days like that, and subbing might lose it's challenging mystique. &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/7669359389442699601-2288871821576882190?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/2288871821576882190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=2288871821576882190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/2288871821576882190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/2288871821576882190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2007/12/so-much-paper.html' title='So Much Paper'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7669359389442699601.post-6385232566936219270</id><published>2007-12-05T12:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T16:53:26.747-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Well Friends, after more than a year away from blogging I have finally returned. I stopped after traveling the summer of 2006, and just waited until I felt like I had something to say again. Clearly it takes a long time for thoughts to build up in my head!  :)  I have mainly started this blog to keep people updated on my recently acquired job. That's right everyone, Coley is finally working. Well, kinda. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Just last week I accepted the position of Women's Ministry Associate for Antioch Initiative. The Anitioch Initiative is a project of the Evangelical Free Church aimed at finding and training young leaders in ministry, and giving them skills to make more leaders. I get to have coffee with young women, find out what they are passionate about, and help them get there! It might possibly be the best job in the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In the next few days I will be sending out support letters (this is not a job that the EFCA can support on thier own) to raise money for my budget and compensation. If you would like me to send you one, send me your mailing address and I would love to get it to you! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I plan on posting here how things are going and fun stories about what the Lord is doing. Keep checking back! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7669359389442699601-6385232566936219270?l=coleyjean.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/feeds/6385232566936219270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7669359389442699601&amp;postID=6385232566936219270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6385232566936219270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7669359389442699601/posts/default/6385232566936219270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coleyjean.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m Back'/><author><name>Coley Bloomquist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17814949964676461506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NhUCMZvdmKA/S569VvUK89I/AAAAAAAAAI0/efC2b2XuKKw/S220/IMG_3002.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
