<?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-3107223115359422449</id><updated>2011-07-06T06:55:59.331-04:00</updated><category term='Getting Started'/><title type='text'>A tree planted...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-7766168645142050282</id><published>2008-06-12T18:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T17:50:47.655-04:00</updated><title type='text'>China Schedule</title><content type='html'>In case anyone is wondering and needs a quick reference for when I'm coming and going this summer, here you go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 23- I'm flying to California for team leader training&lt;br /&gt;June 27- I'm flying back to Missouri for Kate and Nick's wedding&lt;br /&gt;June 29- Flying back to Cali to join my team for team training&lt;br /&gt;July 2- Flying to Hong Kong&lt;br /&gt;August 2- Flying to the US (Cali) for debriefing&lt;br /&gt;August 5- Flying back to Missouri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you can't say I didn't put it out there for ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and here's my mailing address for anyone who might want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erica Smith&lt;br /&gt;ELIC Hong Kong Office&lt;br /&gt;English Language Institute (Hong Kong), Limited&lt;br /&gt;Rear Portion, 2/F., Ocean View Court, No. 41 Mody Road&lt;br /&gt;Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, Hong Kong&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-7766168645142050282?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/7766168645142050282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=7766168645142050282' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7766168645142050282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7766168645142050282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2008/06/china-schedule.html' title='China Schedule'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-7674209192720902251</id><published>2008-06-11T23:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:32.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>of late....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCo8CSufMI/AAAAAAAAAW4/3PbKX3N0o9I/s1600-h/DSCF4718.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCo8CSufMI/AAAAAAAAAW4/3PbKX3N0o9I/s320/DSCF4718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210850518228696258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not written on this in a million years! But I don't want to dwell on that. Let's just pretend I posted last week and there's no need to catch up on the last several months. Not that many people even read this, but you know.&lt;br /&gt;There have been several notable things have happened though, that I should add to this here blog.&lt;br /&gt;1. Rob Marshall kissed me on April 24 (Yes, it was amazing and knocked my socks off)&lt;br /&gt;2. Rob Marshall became my boyfriend (and a wonderful and amazing and good lookin' one he is!)&lt;br /&gt;3. Casey gets about 50% of the acclaim for the relationship beginning, as she's the one who encouraged the kiss. :) God gets the other 50%.&lt;br /&gt;4. I made it through a third year of teaching!&lt;br /&gt;5. I had the best birthday ever of my life thanks to my dear friends, the fabulous Kate, and that hunk Rob.&lt;br /&gt;6. Casey, Kate, Allison and I spent four fun and walking filled days in Chicago to celebrate the beginning of summer!&lt;br /&gt;7. I'm leaving for China in about three weeks...and I'm still not sure how I feel about it all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;   The last couple weeks of the relationship have been a bit trying at times; difficult one could say. Rob's out at Discipleship Focus all summer as a mentor, and it's a pretty all-consuming position. And he lives out there. Hmmmm. Big change from seeing him everyday, sharing meals together, going running together. Bring in the emotions!!!!! That's right, Erica has become emotional. My feelings get hurt. I'm sensitive. I cry! This may not seem like a big deal, but it really is. I hardly ever cry, ask Casey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   So, I didn't really know what to do with all the sudden emotions and felt like I was being silly and girlie. Then I realized it was just that new depths of my heart were being connected to Rob's and that our relationship was growing. So, that's good right? Yeah, but the thing is, growth, in particular love, comes from dying to yourself, your "rights", your desires, your plans. That doesn't feel so good. Enter all the ugly parts of Erica that she hides from everybody! Selfishness, jealousy, impatience, self-centeredness, lack of trust, holding onto control.&lt;br /&gt;Now enter God's grace.&lt;br /&gt;aaaahhhhhhhhhhh. That's better!&lt;br /&gt; It's taken the whole first half of this week to get to the root of things in my heart; why I was responding the way I was, where my fears were stemming from, what it really is that should be the focus of our relationship. It comes to this really, Rob was feeling as if he should have to work harder for me, for my love; like he needed to earn it. So, then he didn't know what to do when I kept just extending out to him my heart, without any need for earning it, but just receiving it and being thankful. In believing this about himself, he then passed the expectation for performance to me, unwittingly. I knew I couldn't meet that expectation, and felt hopeless! (Just for a little bit) We had a great talk about all that, and then God continued to speak to me about it.&lt;br /&gt; Thanks to Romans 5 (the Message) and The Shack, I've come to this- relationships &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need expectancy, not expectations.&lt;/span&gt; Expectancy holds...mystery, hopefulness, excitement, a constant looking to see what's next, and great enjoyment and thankfulness when the thing happens! Expectations hold...rules, requirements, standards, responsibilities, and can lead to an economy of performance, guilt, shame, disappointment, hopelessness, and judgment. Instead of having spoken or unspoken expectations for the other person to meet, I think each person needs to share honestly how their heart receives love, what they need, what they appreciate, and then you just...have...to...trust. Trust that the other person is listening to the Spirit; trust that he is listening to you and remembering; trust that he really is committed; trust that he will continue to grow in knowing how to love you. And trust that God is the ultimate satisfier of your heart's deepest needs, and fills in perfectly all the times we fail.&lt;br /&gt; If its about measuring up or meeting the standard, then its not love. If its about earning, hard work, perfectly fulfilling all the responsibilities, then it's not grace. And a relationship must have both love and grace in abundance.&lt;br /&gt; So, we're learning a lot these days, and I'm so thankful that Rob WANTS to learn with me and is so soft toward our Teacher. I'm also very thankful that today, when we got some treasured time together, I was able to look forward to it expectantly, excitedly. And during the making of sandwiches, eating outside, and going to the lake, I was able to enjoy him, the conversation, his heart, the water, the sunshine, the sweetness SO deeply.&lt;br /&gt;Romans 5 said it beautifully in The Message,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"In alert expectancy such as this &lt;/span&gt;[that is grown out of exercising patience in the midst of troubles]&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary, we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-7674209192720902251?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/7674209192720902251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=7674209192720902251' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7674209192720902251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7674209192720902251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-late.html' title='of late....'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCo8CSufMI/AAAAAAAAAW4/3PbKX3N0o9I/s72-c/DSCF4718.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-1509858662551616989</id><published>2008-03-11T15:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:50:14.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring is coming...</title><content type='html'>and I can't tell you how that makes my heart sing! The clear, blue sky, the warming temperature, the daffodils peeking up through the dirt: they cause my heart to swell with joy and a feeling of knowing I'm taken care of. A season only lasts for a certain period of time, and on just the right day it all starts turning over to the next one. I see that paralleled in my life, and it brings me comfort. I can walk through anything for a time. You never know when you'll be led into the next season.&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was a little afraid that the next few days were going to be really hard for me, and even when I first woke up my mind was plagued by worries and the temptation to try to figure things out. I spent a little time in Proverbs and a verse stuck out to me.  &lt;span &gt;&lt;em&gt;A gracious woman attains honor.  &lt;/em&gt;It wasn't anything big or fancy, just a gentle reminder of what I'm called to- showing grace to those God puts into my day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to school I was listening to one of my favorite songs, with the words, "&lt;em&gt;You are the everlasting God. The everlasting God. You do not faint. You won't grow weary. You're the defender of the weak. You comfort those in need. You lift us up on wings like eagles." &lt;/em&gt;It just really caused my heart to take courage, and embrace&lt;em&gt; this&lt;/em&gt; day. It's all I know I have, and the everlasting God is present in it with me.&lt;br /&gt;Mysteriously, God caused a huge joy to just fill me, and I found all day that my thoughts were focused, peaceful, intentional. I had the chance to encourage a dear friend of mine, as she's encouraged me so many times. I had some little snippets of time to ask several kids how they're doing and let them know that I notice them. I had a great talk with my vice principal. I'm very thankful for this day.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Lord, for the changing seasons, and how running through them is the steadfastness of Your loving provision and sustaining power.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-1509858662551616989?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/1509858662551616989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=1509858662551616989' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/1509858662551616989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/1509858662551616989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2008/03/spring-is-coming.html' title='Spring is coming...'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-6969700321665599163</id><published>2008-02-14T18:09:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:33.622-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday Thirteen- The Inaugural Edition!</title><content type='html'>Okay, my friend Carissa- whom I love- does this every week and I decided I wanted to join in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirteen Reasons I'm Thankful to be a T&lt;em&gt;eacher &lt;/em&gt;on Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's an excuse to make my kids cupcakes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A chorus of 25 sweet voices saying, "Thank you!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cards that say inspiring things like, "Girls Rock!" and "You're Purrrfect, Valentine!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting HUGE boxes of chocolates..that I won't eat&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My principal shows the love too! Krispi Kremes for breakfast!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seeing how many shades of pink and red fellow teachers can wear&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Unique presents. This year's winner- a gilded bird cage that is a music box&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Taking an opportunity to tell my kids I love them&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hearing, "You're the best teacher in the world!" and knowing a cupcake was all it took!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A stuffed dog that sings, " You Make Me Wanna Shout!" and declares love to me!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting a gift certificate for a free mani or pedi!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ah...the conversation hearts. Faves: U GO GIRL, MY BOY, TOO HOT, and MAD 4 U&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Knowing I get to see these sweet kids tomorrow too! Unless it snows. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are a few documentary photos. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPT8n0sCI/AAAAAAAAAWg/uRDxc7jVJ2Y/s1600-h/DSCF2968.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166982614098423842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPT8n0sCI/AAAAAAAAAWg/uRDxc7jVJ2Y/s320/DSCF2968.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPTcn0sBI/AAAAAAAAAWY/8xSInBNZWks/s1600-h/DSCF2965.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166982605508489234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPTcn0sBI/AAAAAAAAAWY/8xSInBNZWks/s320/DSCF2965.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPTcn0sBI/AAAAAAAAAWY/8xSInBNZWks/s1600-h/DSCF2965.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166982596918554626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s320/DSCF2959.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPS8n0sAI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/VIkZojmJRg0/s1600-h/DSCF2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-cbba7b9f04e17316" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcbba7b9f04e17316%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329914257%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6854472AF754E375F67C255F2CDC0550B2AB33E8.7C0E4A4707EF818E5775006F252F873078F5413B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcbba7b9f04e17316%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSPjwtVKdctWPonna0oJmKmw0Qyw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcbba7b9f04e17316%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329914257%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6854472AF754E375F67C255F2CDC0550B2AB33E8.7C0E4A4707EF818E5775006F252F873078F5413B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcbba7b9f04e17316%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSPjwtVKdctWPonna0oJmKmw0Qyw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-6969700321665599163?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=cbba7b9f04e17316&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/6969700321665599163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=6969700321665599163' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6969700321665599163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6969700321665599163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2008/02/thursday-thirteen-inaugural-edition.html' title='Thursday Thirteen- The Inaugural Edition!'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7TPT8n0sCI/AAAAAAAAAWg/uRDxc7jVJ2Y/s72-c/DSCF2968.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-7474338139207751784</id><published>2008-02-12T14:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:37.582-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude</title><content type='html'>Today I feel slightly overwhelmed by the amount of change going on in my life, mostly due to an overhaul of the heart that Jesus has been working on in the last several weeks. I find myself seeing EVERYthing differently, and, to quote Sara Groves, "The thing I could count on, things I thought would never change, they just broke open wide."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;    In an attempt to quite my heart I wanted to spend some time reflecting on the things I am sure of, that I'm thankful of, and that I can visually represent for you through the wonders of digital camera work!&lt;br /&gt;    First, I'm so thankful for my friends. Since I committed to going to China I haven't allowed my heart to go anywhere close to thinking about what it's going to be like to leave these precious people. In the last couple of weeks, however, as God's been opening up my heart to feel deeply again, I have felt a sensation like tearing of roots in my soul as I've thought of saying goodbye; a dull, aching, foreboding. I don't know, I feel like I'm just one of the most blessed people in the world to have men and women surrounding me who are passionate about Christ and knowing him, who are fun, who are real and vulnerable, who are committed to one another, and who enjoy a glass of wine from time to time. Here are a few of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwjsn0ryI/AAAAAAAAAUg/mgBdA7wfAAE/s1600-h/DSCF2891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166174743634947874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwjsn0ryI/AAAAAAAAAUg/mgBdA7wfAAE/s320/DSCF2891.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwkcn0r0I/AAAAAAAAAUw/Ae6cDTpuxoQ/s1600-h/DSCF2924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166174756519849794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwkcn0r0I/AAAAAAAAAUw/Ae6cDTpuxoQ/s320/DSCF2924.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwksn0r1I/AAAAAAAAAU4/wVuAckSZbbQ/s1600-h/DSCF2774.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwksn0r1I/AAAAAAAAAU4/wVuAckSZbbQ/s1600-h/DSCF2774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166174760814817106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwksn0r1I/AAAAAAAAAU4/wVuAckSZbbQ/s320/DSCF2774.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7HwkMn0rzI/AAAAAAAAAUo/tS2aTc_n-tE/s1600-h/19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166174752224882482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7HwkMn0rzI/AAAAAAAAAUo/tS2aTc_n-tE/s320/19.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   I'm incredibly grateful for a beautiful place to live in. Branson, Missouri may not be for everybody, but I feel like my boundary lines have indeed fallen in pleasant places. I've always loved the changing of each season, the variety of colors and temparatures, having water nearby, driving through the hills going to Arkansas. It's just settling to my heart to be in the midst of this beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hzrcn0r2I/AAAAAAAAAVA/A5LuIUHkJ1o/s1600-h/DSCF1344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166178175313817442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hzrcn0r2I/AAAAAAAAAVA/A5LuIUHkJ1o/s320/DSCF1344.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7HzyMn0r6I/AAAAAAAAAVg/cyqfS2lfDiQ/s1600-h/DSCF1029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166178291277934498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7HzyMn0r6I/AAAAAAAAAVg/cyqfS2lfDiQ/s320/DSCF1029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7HzvMn0r4I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/o2zq3zDlVis/s1600-h/DSCF1659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166178239738326914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7HzvMn0r4I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/o2zq3zDlVis/s320/DSCF1659.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hzrsn0r3I/AAAAAAAAAVI/M5W5h8tRupQ/s1600-h/DSCF1362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166178179608784754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hzrsn0r3I/AAAAAAAAAVI/M5W5h8tRupQ/s320/DSCF1362.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hzvcn0r5I/AAAAAAAAAVY/FjmcwjHDdeA/s1600-h/DSCF0875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166178244033294226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hzvcn0r5I/AAAAAAAAAVY/FjmcwjHDdeA/s320/DSCF0875.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Finally, I can't even express the gratitude in my heart for the church that I've been able to be a part of here. It's so much more than a church, or maybe its just that it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; what a church should be: intentional, relational, Christ-centered, vulnerable, honest, dedicated to Biblical teaching, relevant, and so filled with...love. Deep, whole-hearted love. Three years ago when I went to China for a year, leaving was a completely different experience. My relationships were not as deep, yet my heart was very emotionally dependent on several of them. The times I would get sermon cds in the mail and could hear familiar voices and teaching were like breathing again. Now I've been a part of Harvest for seven years, and my roots are deeply entrenched in the rich, dark soil of these people, these friendships, this community. Young and old, we're a part of each other in a way that just feels so right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2g8n0r8I/AAAAAAAAAVw/_JF4J7jYLZo/s1600-h/DSCF0992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166181293460074434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2g8n0r8I/AAAAAAAAAVw/_JF4J7jYLZo/s320/DSCF0992.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2hcn0r9I/AAAAAAAAAV4/Yquh0UDMnCY/s1600-h/DSCF1006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166181302050009042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2hcn0r9I/AAAAAAAAAV4/Yquh0UDMnCY/s320/DSCF1006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2icn0r_I/AAAAAAAAAWI/VtbM4l6t_Ak/s1600-h/IMG_0314%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166181319229878258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2icn0r_I/AAAAAAAAAWI/VtbM4l6t_Ak/s320/IMG_0314%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2gcn0r7I/AAAAAAAAAVo/o0KdYO9HG8M/s1600-h/DSCF0052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166181284870139826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2gcn0r7I/AAAAAAAAAVo/o0KdYO9HG8M/s320/DSCF0052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2icn0r-I/AAAAAAAAAWA/a_Pl1Pz7iGI/s1600-h/n502983783_63151_814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166181319229878242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7H2icn0r-I/AAAAAAAAAWA/a_Pl1Pz7iGI/s320/n502983783_63151_814.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I don't know what the conclusion for this post is. Maybe it is just to say that as my heart has been opened to seeing people again, to loving them deeply, and to desiring to be where I'm at, with what I've got I feel more than ever that I'm home. The eyes I look into, the voices singing with mine, the arms wrapped around me, the food we eat together, the conversations shared, the communion we receive, the joys and struggles walked through. For this time, these &lt;em&gt;lives&lt;/em&gt; are my boundary lines; hemming in my heart's comings and goings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-7474338139207751784?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/7474338139207751784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=7474338139207751784' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7474338139207751784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7474338139207751784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2008/02/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/R7Hwjsn0ryI/AAAAAAAAAUg/mgBdA7wfAAE/s72-c/DSCF2891.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-4614115623484288613</id><published>2008-02-08T09:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T09:52:45.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The worst way to start a day...</title><content type='html'>...for a teacher, is to come into school and find that nine of her students haven't done their spelling work, which they had all week to do, and which I reminded them about every afternoon!!!! I tell you, its enough to make me have them write their words 100 times each over the weekend!!&lt;br /&gt;   In other news, there's been a lot going on in my heart lately, all of it good I'm happy to say. God's been showing me many ways that I've closed my heart off to people, and to Him, in the last year or so. I didn't even realize it was happening, and since I'm such a controller and kind of thick headed I guess, it took a long time for Jesus to get me to see the extent to which I was interacting with others out of fear. Fear of having to face my desires, fear that they wouldn't be met, fear of having to feel emotions like loneliness and jealousy, fear of letting someone else in. It all culminated on Sunday night, when, at 1:30 am I suddenly felt my heart breathe again. It felt alive and open and soft. Until I felt those things, I hadn't even noticed that I &lt;em&gt;hadn't been&lt;/em&gt; feeling them. It really has made me think about how we have to be vigilant and watchful with our hearts, and has reminded me that I can't even know my own heart and its condition fully. We are so in need of the Spirit to enlighten us, free us, and help us walk in step with Christ's life and heart.&lt;br /&gt;   Well, that post took a turn for the better, now didn't it?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-4614115623484288613?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/4614115623484288613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=4614115623484288613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4614115623484288613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4614115623484288613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2008/02/worst-way-to-start-day.html' title='The worst way to start a day...'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-6843176399135704450</id><published>2007-10-31T15:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:38.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday Night Lights- PeeWee Pirates</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqBoy9zRI/AAAAAAAAATk/PE1Y15-i59Q/s1600-h/DSCF1452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127605489613262098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqBoy9zRI/AAAAAAAAATk/PE1Y15-i59Q/s320/DSCF1452.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love my kids, and by "my kids" I mean my students. My boys hold a special place in my heart, because this year they're particularly sweet and soft-hearted. Some of them, sweet as they are, also play football, and for the last week have been BEGGING me to come watch them play between the junior high and junior varsity games that were Monday night. How could I turn them down? My friend Kati went with to keep me company. She's my class helper every Friday afternoon when we're finishing up our crazy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqC4y9zSI/AAAAAAAAATs/E5epGoMcIgs/s1600-h/DSCF1454.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127605511088098594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqC4y9zSI/AAAAAAAAATs/E5epGoMcIgs/s320/DSCF1454.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just so adorable how excited they were to see me there. Who would think that fifth grade boys would care so much? It made my day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqAoy9zPI/AAAAAAAAATU/0aDODMiKf1E/s1600-h/DSCF1447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127605472433392882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqAoy9zPI/AAAAAAAAATU/0aDODMiKf1E/s320/DSCF1447.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqDoy9zTI/AAAAAAAAAT0/f18rTy9m5eY/s1600-h/DSCF1449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127605523973000498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqDoy9zTI/AAAAAAAAAT0/f18rTy9m5eY/s320/DSCF1449.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These boys were in my class last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqBIy9zQI/AAAAAAAAATc/XI5UQ1gsFVA/s1600-h/DSCF1448.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127605481023327490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqBIy9zQI/AAAAAAAAATc/XI5UQ1gsFVA/s320/DSCF1448.JPG" 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/3107223115359422449-6843176399135704450?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/6843176399135704450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=6843176399135704450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6843176399135704450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6843176399135704450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/10/monday-night-lights-peewee-pirates.html' title='Monday Night Lights- PeeWee Pirates'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RyjqBoy9zRI/AAAAAAAAATk/PE1Y15-i59Q/s72-c/DSCF1452.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-4706540837536354253</id><published>2007-10-19T16:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:39.748-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts These Days</title><content type='html'>It seems to be the trend in my blogging life to go for long periods of time without posting anything, and then try to pack the events of several months into a little show and tell. Honestly, the problems is Facebook. It's quick. It's immediately gratifying. People respond to you. It pulls me in. But I don't want to abandon this blog, especially since, hopefully, in about a year it may be one of the main ways I keep in touch with everyone in the US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123158084487046994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RxkdIloFZ1I/AAAAAAAAASk/8AA6hk9gaj4/s320/great+wall+easter+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;That's right. One of the main things going on in life these days is applying to go BACK to China for four years. Two years would be spent in language school, learning Chinese of course; and two years would be spent teaching English in a university! I never expected God to place the desire to live in China again on my heart, but He has, and it's only gotten stronger the more I've considered it. I've completed my part of the application process: answers to essay questions, personality inventories, letters of recommendation, two hour long phone interview. Now all I can do is wait. sigh. Not my favorite thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123159544775927698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RxkedloFZ5I/AAAAAAAAATE/M5h9IDEuhFo/s320/DSCF1119.JPG" border="0" /&gt;When it first came to my mind to go back to China, as I was ending my time in California in August, I was shocked. More at my response than the thought of if. My first reaction was, "Yes! That sounds exciting!" That totally freaked me out, and I don't think I really accepted that it was truly me responding. So, I started taking steps in the process, and talked to a program counselor, who happens to be one of my friends. After the first time I talked to her I felt, still a little apprehensive about, and still couldn't really believe I was wanting to even consider doing this crazy thing again. The thoughts weren't going away though, so I kept taking little steps forward, until, now I find myself waiting in anticipation to hear back if I'm accepted or not! God has been faithfully giving me more and more vision, certainty, and desire the closer I've gotten to this point. His ways are truly so different from ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123158097371948914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RxkdJVoFZ3I/AAAAAAAAAS0/N4eZsXJvrJU/s320/DSCF1162.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The funny thing is, and this also makes me sad from time to time, that I'm having the best year as a teacher so far. From the beginning of the year, I've felt so much more confident, on top of things, and knowledgable of how do things. I feel like I'm atuned to my kids much more quickly, and know how to handle most things. There are the exceptions of course. :) The community of our school has also been so much better this year, as I've gotten to know the people I work with, and as they've gotten to know me. I keep catching myself saying things like, "Next year I need to..." or, "Next year I should." Then I realize I may not be here. Weird...and kind of sad, but exciting too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123158101666916226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RxkdJloFZ4I/AAAAAAAAAS8/J4LEI4v3Q70/s320/DSCF0824.JPG" border="0" /&gt;In other news, I'm practicing being more balanced with my other activities. I'm only doing worship once a month at Harvest, and then once a month with Shema. I'm no longer serving on the Mission's Board or leading a WATCH small group of C of O young women. As a result, I've felt much more connected to and responsible with my job responsibilities. I also have more free time on week nights, which has afforded the possibility of addiction, to TV shows. Alas, I'm afraid I am quite in love with Heroes, Grey's Anatomy, and Survivor. And an occasional Extreme Home Makeover or Dancing with the Stars doesn't hurt either. I guess I'm trying to get it all in this year because I may not have access to it next year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123158088782014306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RxkdI1oFZ2I/AAAAAAAAASs/rQm7tL3mAZw/s320/DSCF1185.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Other than that, there are the constant changes, confrontations, great conversations, and growth in the relationships of my life. Although I'm thankful to have so many deep friendships, sometimes I get a little overwhelmed at the sheer volume of upkeep they take. Also thankfully, much patience and grace is afforded me by my friends, which I have great need of as I become more and more aware of my tendency to make everything into a plan of action or a task to complete. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-4706540837536354253?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/4706540837536354253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=4706540837536354253' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4706540837536354253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4706540837536354253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/10/thoughts-these-days.html' title='Thoughts These Days'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RxkdIloFZ1I/AAAAAAAAASk/8AA6hk9gaj4/s72-c/great+wall+easter+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-9037770873020499273</id><published>2007-08-18T12:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:40.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BONUS!</title><content type='html'>My sister and her family happened to come to Cali while I was there, and after the wedding I got to go meet them at the beach for a few hours. It was so great to see them all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdI5N_18I/AAAAAAAAAR8/Keyx0Q5hD6g/s1600-h/DSCF0743.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100077141656065986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdI5N_18I/AAAAAAAAAR8/Keyx0Q5hD6g/s320/DSCF0743.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrea and I. She fell and hurt her lip their first night there. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJJN_19I/AAAAAAAAASE/L8OeA0EXo4Q/s1600-h/DSCF0744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100077145951033298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJJN_19I/AAAAAAAAASE/L8OeA0EXo4Q/s320/DSCF0744.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momma and Andrea. Lori is my oldest sister and she lives in Arizona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJ5N_1_I/AAAAAAAAASU/t1WHBkR05Sw/s1600-h/DSCF0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJZN_1-I/AAAAAAAAASM/-2btfw79uWU/s1600-h/DSCF0747.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100077150246000610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJZN_1-I/AAAAAAAAASM/-2btfw79uWU/s320/DSCF0747.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJZN_1-I/AAAAAAAAASM/-2btfw79uWU/s1600-h/DSCF0747.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJ5N_1_I/AAAAAAAAASU/t1WHBkR05Sw/s1600-h/DSCF0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby bruver, otherwise known as Junior. :) Isn't that one of the most amazing faces you've seen? I couldn't stop kissing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJ5N_1_I/AAAAAAAAASU/t1WHBkR05Sw/s1600-h/DSCF0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJ5N_1_I/AAAAAAAAASU/t1WHBkR05Sw/s1600-h/DSCF0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100077158835935218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJ5N_1_I/AAAAAAAAASU/t1WHBkR05Sw/s320/DSCF0742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrea and I had lots of fun making sand castles and jumping over waves coming in. Her laughter is SO infectious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdJ5N_1_I/AAAAAAAAASU/t1WHBkR05Sw/s1600-h/DSCF0742.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-9037770873020499273?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/9037770873020499273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=9037770873020499273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/9037770873020499273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/9037770873020499273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/08/bonus.html' title='BONUS!'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RscdI5N_18I/AAAAAAAAAR8/Keyx0Q5hD6g/s72-c/DSCF0743.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-5317748663112509827</id><published>2007-08-17T16:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:45.495-05:00</updated><title type='text'>August</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's only the 17th, but it feels like the month is almost over. I'll do my best to give a quick recap of what's happened lately, and tell a little bit of what's on the horizon for Erica Smith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It all started by going to California for two fabulous weeks of fun and wedding festivites with Amy and Monica, and of course, Pat too. The first couple days were spent packing the girls shared apartment, moving Amy and Pat to their new one and Monica to her new one, and cleaning the old one cleaner than it's ever been. :) All of this involved morning coffee runs, late nights, lots of heavy lifting, and millions of ascended and descended stairs. Needless to say we were all dirty, sweaty, and pretty unattractive for these first several days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099767495988860530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYDhJN_1nI/AAAAAAAAAPU/b_rST0-dhSA/s320/DSCF0404.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099767934075524738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYD6pN_1oI/AAAAAAAAAPc/2LauOukidTQ/s320/DSCF0435.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099767946960426642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYD7ZN_1pI/AAAAAAAAAPk/Ar76y03qRgw/s320/DSCF0439.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099767951255393954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYD7pN_1qI/AAAAAAAAAPs/xqA8nLdQ3co/s320/DSCF0441.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beginning of the next week was great! We got Amy and Pat somewhat settled into their new place, with Mon and I taking over their guest room with our bags and such. The highlight of these days, for me, were the nightly 'hand and foot' games we'd play. It was Mon and I vs. Amy and Pat, and inspite of my serious handicaps (not having played in two years) we held our own. We also went to their church, followed by the beach, and pretty much just relaxed. We started looking and smelling a lot better too. :) Oh yeah, and went to Taco Tuesday at Over the Boarder for 99 cent tacos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099769660652377778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYFfJN_1rI/AAAAAAAAAP0/EzRt1skKsLM/s320/DSCF0478.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099769669242312386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYFfpN_1sI/AAAAAAAAAP8/RsZdMEDgDH0/s320/DSCF0485.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099769673537279698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYFf5N_1tI/AAAAAAAAAQE/1_Jb3R6IwbA/s320/DSCF0486.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On Wednesday, before the wedding, Amy's college roommate Jana got in town and Pat and I got to meet her for the first time. It was magical. :) Seriously, she's great and I loved getting to know her. Then on Thursday all but one of the groomsmen flew in. Three of them had been in China with Pat at one time or another, so we all had a lot to talk about, and it was so much fun spending time all together. That night we girls went to a Jo Dee Messina concert that was great, except for the crazy pushing lady next to us. Friday we all went to the beach and then hung out at Amy and Pat's that night. Saturday was the rehearsal and dinner, which was super great and fun, and then... the wedding day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099772787388569314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYIVJN_1uI/AAAAAAAAAQM/QdoNFZwIc0E/s320/DSCF0496.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099772791683536626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYIVZN_1vI/AAAAAAAAAQU/-ExvVn0VFKE/s320/DSCF0515.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099772795978503938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYIVpN_1wI/AAAAAAAAAQc/6AUd2mjiIBY/s320/DSCF0532.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099772804568438546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYIWJN_1xI/AAAAAAAAAQk/xnYlFyUV824/s320/DSCF0538.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099772808863405858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYIWZN_1yI/AAAAAAAAAQs/lMNf6gPpo-I/s320/DSCF0558.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Okay, the big day. Everything turned out just right: the flowers, the weather, the number of people, the food. It was just great. The bride, gorgeous and glowing, was relaxed and the groom was handsome and could hardly keep his hands off his wife. I was seriously impressed by the photographer, the dancing was fun, and Monica's toast was touching and funny. She's brilliant. The day was one of the happiest I've had, and I was so thankful to be a part of it.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099774621339604786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYJ_5N_1zI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/8aj3wJ0Lk3w/s320/DSCF0596.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099774629929539394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYKAZN_10I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/xj55viie73U/s320/DSCF0616.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099774638519474018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYKA5N_12I/AAAAAAAAARM/Sh2X__9zP9s/s320/DSCF0681.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099774634224506706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYKApN_11I/AAAAAAAAARE/JACHsEJF1uk/s320/DSCF0625.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099774647109408626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYKBZN_13I/AAAAAAAAARU/ggwEFrYiOVQ/s320/DSCF0728.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099775626361952130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYK6ZN_14I/AAAAAAAAARc/4s1V7p6Xdyo/s320/DSCF0727.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099775639246854050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYK7JN_16I/AAAAAAAAARs/UEjU8yWcNXE/s320/DSCF0717.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099775634951886738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYK65N_15I/AAAAAAAAARk/vHpXodgE5to/s320/DSCF0736.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099775643541821362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYK7ZN_17I/AAAAAAAAAR0/DCd7cqT578k/s320/DSCF0719.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it was over. The day was done. Amy and Pat headed off to Mexico for their honeymoon, and Monica and I enjoyed one last night and morning together. It was really strange saying goodbye and going back to Missouri, like I was time traveling or something. A couple friends took me to the airport and now, here I am, back in my classroom working away. And by working I mean, blogging. :) School starts next Thursday and I've met a few of the kiddos already. Not sure I'm ready, but when are we ever really ready for transitions in our lives? I'm still thinking a lot about boundaries for myself, which things to keep and which to let go of. I'm looking forward to a fun and fruitful school year, and listening for God's continued direction in my life. Hope you enjoyed the saga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&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/3107223115359422449-5317748663112509827?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/5317748663112509827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=5317748663112509827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5317748663112509827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5317748663112509827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/08/august.html' title='August'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RsYDhJN_1nI/AAAAAAAAAPU/b_rST0-dhSA/s72-c/DSCF0404.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-6276228586208425308</id><published>2007-07-12T12:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T11:09:30.131-04:00</updated><title type='text'>saying "no"</title><content type='html'>I like very much to think that I'm in control of my life, and in some cases, other people's lives as well. Disgusting, but true. I value my independence, my ability to get things done, my efficiency, my common sense. If there's one thing, or four things, that drive me crazy, it's when other people don't possess these same qualities. I see it as a weakness, and that's when I swoop in to save the day. Again, quite disgusting, but I'm just trying to be honest here. The sad thing is that I don't always realize the affect that such attitudes and beliefs are having on me, until it's too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now is a too late. Because I think God and others need so much of my help, this spring and summer I have or will sing in five weddings. I'm leading the music for vbs at my church. I'm going to countless wedding, engagement, and baby showers. I'm babysitting for people. I'm going to going away parties, birthday parties, and hang outs. I went to South Dakota, St. Louis, and Kansas City just in June. I'm going to California in August. I need to get in my classroom and get some things done. My car is a mess. I need to get my bridesmaids dress altered and buy shoes, and get a haircut. The list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was fine with all of this, until the last week or so. Every night I lie down and just lay there, each of these things racing through my mind, contemplating when to get it all done, which is most important, how much each costs, who I may disappoint, what people will think of me as I perform in each task. Sick. I lay there for an hour or more, my mind like a runaway train, a growing feeling of anxiety and helplessness. Last night at small group I felt frustrated and irritated the whole time, because we were talking about all these deep philosophical things, when I felt so down in the dirty trenches. I felt disconnected and alone. I tried presenting the things to God, asking Him to help me receive His peace, relaxing my body. All the time my jaw is periodically cramping, sending shooting pains up into my head. Clearly, I was nowhere near in control of anything, but my straining to grasp at everything was driving me to this miserable state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called Monica at almost one in the morning, my time. I poured out everything to her listening, compassionate ear, and finally had to hear something from her that I knew was true the second she said it. "You have to say no to some things, Erica!" But that means some people might be disappointed in me. They might question my ability to "handle" things. They might not find someone else to do the thing they asked me to do. Someone else may not be able to do it as well. God's will might not be done!!! Hello, Erica!!! I've made a god of myself. Mon encouraged me to drop some things right away and I decided on a few I could do. I didn't go to vbs today, and I'm not going to my friend's photog. studio open house tonight. They seem like little things, but they mean I have to trust God to work in Abby with the music today, and trust that I'll be okay without the social interaction of the open house tonight. It was hard, but I did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a result, I got to run by my school and talk with my principal, drop off my car for a much needed oil change, and walk to Panera to just relax and get caught up with people. Tonight I plan on hanging out at the house. I'm exhausted from not sleeping last night, feel emotionally unstable, but more at rest than I have in a while. I'm trying to think into the school year and what things I need to say no to. Can I juggle teaching, school activities, taking classes, leading a discipleship group, going to small group, leading worship for church and other things, being on the mission's board, maintaining friendships...and still remain healthy and sane? NO! I say no!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everything will be okay. God is so much greater than little old me or you. He loves us, he invites us into being a part of what he is doing, but he doesn't need us to accomplish His plans. A part of His plan is for us to be conformed to the image of Christ. Jesus didn't strive, he didn't worry, he didn't spend sleepless nights wondering how people were perceiving him or if they liked him. He sought the Father. He listened to the Spirit. He walked and lived in obedience. He had nothing and died a criminal's death, but the Father was well pleased from start to finish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-6276228586208425308?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/6276228586208425308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=6276228586208425308' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6276228586208425308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6276228586208425308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/07/saying-no.html' title='saying &quot;no&quot;'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-4426759710879760345</id><published>2007-07-10T19:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:47.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I got a digital camera! Like my friend Emily, I feel a little frustration at not being able to have a picture of me WITH my new camera, but oh well. :)&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few pictures of life from the last week, taken of course with the afore mentioned camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQdBEC_VUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/YCnqfj-9opk/s1600-h/DSCF0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085721783311488322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQdBEC_VUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/YCnqfj-9opk/s320/DSCF0012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Here's my cute little house. I'm hoping to paint one of the walls a dark brown before summer is over, but the days are flying by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQdoEC_VVI/AAAAAAAAAOg/dJJbOGsQKC0/s1600-h/DSCF0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085722453326386514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQdoEC_VVI/AAAAAAAAAOg/dJJbOGsQKC0/s320/DSCF0019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Kate, Maren and I outside Kate's house. Maren was gone in California for a week, and I was gone in St. Louis before that, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;so I feel like I haven't talked to her in a coon's age. Gonna need to remedy that&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQeP0C_VWI/AAAAAAAAAOo/b9aVpn2zj00/s1600-h/DSCF0052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085723136226186594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQeP0C_VWI/AAAAAAAAAOo/b9aVpn2zj00/s320/DSCF0052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Jennifer Freeman and myself after lunch at her house on Sunday afternoon. Isn't that picture just awfully cute? I look forward to a lake date with her on Friday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085723922205201778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQe9kC_VXI/AAAAAAAAAOw/giN3uLISKgU/s320/DSCF0106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Timer pic with the new camera, during a super fun and impromptu game night. I got to hang out with some girls I don't often get to spend time with, which I loved! We had a fantastic meal outide, played Nerts and Mad Gab, and I ended up talking with two of them until 1:30 in the morning! Quite a fabulous night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQf70C_VYI/AAAAAAAAAO4/8e7vVOPA3Jg/s1600-h/DSCF0142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085724991652058498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQf70C_VYI/AAAAAAAAAO4/8e7vVOPA3Jg/s320/DSCF0142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Abby and myself teaching the VBS kids our theme song, "God's Kids!" It's a spy kids type theme this year, and is quite tiring when all is said and done. Today we had 15 three and four &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;year olds. Phew!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQhd0C_VbI/AAAAAAAAAPM/eLm7ExlhWpU/s1600-h/DSCF0145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085726675279238578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQhd0C_VbI/AAAAAAAAAPM/eLm7ExlhWpU/s320/DSCF0145.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Some of the crazy little guys we're hanging out with this week. This class won the competition for having the most friends invited today. They got to wear and keep those snazzy, bright hats and disguises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3107223115359422449-4426759710879760345?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/4426759710879760345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=4426759710879760345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4426759710879760345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4426759710879760345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-got-digital-camera-like-my-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RpQdBEC_VUI/AAAAAAAAAOY/YCnqfj-9opk/s72-c/DSCF0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-753986760159541567</id><published>2007-06-30T15:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:49.622-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;My goodness, it's been quite along time since I've put any info on here about what's happening in my crazy little life! Believe me, there's been a lot going on, folks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;First of all, I went on a great weekend camping/floating trip with several wonderful friends from my small group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa0_0C_VGI/AAAAAAAAAMo/3m7tibiC974/s1600-h/jump.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081948237930124386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa0_0C_VGI/AAAAAAAAAMo/3m7tibiC974/s320/jump.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;The best part of the campout was jumping off this little cliff. It doesn't look very high, unless you're the one up there trying to get up the courage to leap off of it! After encouragment and patience from Rob, I did it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;The extremely low part of the trip would have to be when my stinking suit top broke, giving nearby canoers a bit of a free show. Amazingly I didn't get any beads or bills! :) Casey saved the day by single-handedly rowing us to safety, and my other swimsuit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa1fkC_VHI/AAAAAAAAAMw/tVPGJM8yE58/s1600-h/suit.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081948783390970994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa1fkC_VHI/AAAAAAAAAMw/tVPGJM8yE58/s320/suit.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;Secondly, Kate and I kept up the "end of year do something crazy to our bodies" tradition. That's right, we got tattooskies!!! Kate was as cool as a cucumber, going first and not flinching&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;once. No hand holding needed for her!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa2jkC_VII/AAAAAAAAAM4/Uq-PRsN7ZxI/s1600-h/mikey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081949951622075522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa2jkC_VII/AAAAAAAAAM4/Uq-PRsN7ZxI/s320/mikey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa2s0C_VJI/AAAAAAAAANA/vMWk3R20QFs/s1600-h/dove.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081950110535865490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa2s0C_VJI/AAAAAAAAANA/vMWk3R20QFs/s320/dove.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;Here's Mikey getting the job done. We were pleasantly surprised to find him to be quite agreeable in every respect. Not a foul word or rude comment made.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa4EUC_VKI/AAAAAAAAANI/KxmWfPsWaAg/s1600-h/ouch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081951613774419106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa4EUC_VKI/AAAAAAAAANI/KxmWfPsWaAg/s320/ouch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;It was a little different stor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;y for Miss Erica. After Kate's unflinchingness my courage was bolstered and I was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;ready to go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;After we were a few minutes int&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;o it, trying hard not to let myself whince or whine, I took a breath and told them &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;it was hurting pretty badly, and asked if I was just a baby. Kate and Drea were quick to quip up with, "Yes." But Mikey proceeded to say that he hadn't wanted to tell me before that I'd chosen one of the most sensative parts of the body to tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa41UC_VMI/AAAAAAAAANY/iCZqA9yGhmI/s1600-h/tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081952455588009154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa41UC_VMI/AAAAAAAAANY/iCZqA9yGhmI/s320/tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;Thanks, Mikey! Anyhoo, I made it through, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;with much hand squeezing, concentrated breathing,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;grimacing, and little breaks for a sip of my iced latte. The end result was well-worth it; a little tree symbolizing Psalm 1- the tree planted by streams of living water, who's leaves don't whither,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt; and who bears fruit in season. Also, Jeremiah 9 (see the bottom of my blog page), and John 15 (abiding and all that).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;Finally, Kate and I joined Harvest's annual trip to South Dakota, to minister to our friend Pastor King, who works on the Standing Rock reservation, in the village of Wakpala. Kate has a great blog on all this, which you can go to for further info. I'll just keep mine short and sweet, and say the best parts were growing closer to PK (Pastor King), and spending time with Harvest friends. Here are a few cute pics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa65kC_VQI/AAAAAAAAAN4/r4sLeAQSyxE/s1600-h/feelskie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081954727625708802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa65kC_VQI/AAAAAAAAAN4/r4sLeAQSyxE/s320/feelskie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;Kate, Sara and I on a walk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa8DEC_VSI/AAAAAAAAAOI/7qx2NIFkyI4/s1600-h/group+pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081955990346093858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa8DEC_VSI/AAAAAAAAAOI/7qx2NIFkyI4/s320/group+pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;The younger end of our group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa8R0C_VTI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/AnxvJK06YyA/s1600-h/four.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081956243749164338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa8R0C_VTI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/AnxvJK06YyA/s320/four.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;Sara, me, Rand, and Kate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,51)"&gt;I should add a final note about the amount of weddings I've been singing in, but I don't want to depress myself. Not that I hate it, it's just the sheer volume of them of late. I mean, one every month since last October??? That's a little OTT don't you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-753986760159541567?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/753986760159541567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=753986760159541567' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/753986760159541567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/753986760159541567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/06/summer-time.html' title='Summer time!'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Roa0_0C_VGI/AAAAAAAAAMo/3m7tibiC974/s72-c/jump.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-4508880855615230058</id><published>2007-05-24T18:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:50.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;Let the festivities begin...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYXWxHg92I/AAAAAAAAALg/OKmM611SfAo/s1600-h/IMAG0017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068264110561490786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYXWxHg92I/AAAAAAAAALg/OKmM611SfAo/s320/IMAG0017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"&gt;The morning began with a wonderful shower. I mention this because it was made a million times better than normal by the NEW shower head my friend of all friends Kate got me! It was my first birthday present, given to me yesterday so I could enjoy it this morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The fabulous shower was followed by a delicious pancake breakfast, and my first present of the birthday day- this gorgeous windchime! Kate made every bit of it in her classroom and I love it the most of any present I've ever been given!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYgHRHg99I/AAAAAAAAAMY/dCYuFFFrcUk/s1600-h/IMAG0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068273739878168530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYgHRHg99I/AAAAAAAAAMY/dCYuFFFrcUk/s320/IMAG0019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Once I got to school, dressed in my springy favorite green dress, Casey came to greet me and we took a birthday picture because we both looked so cute. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYXnxHg94I/AAAAAAAAALw/G2M4wKGACEI/s1600-h/IMAG0020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068264402619266946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYXnxHg94I/AAAAAAAAALw/G2M4wKGACEI/s320/IMAG0020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As the kids started filing in, the funniest and sweetest gifts came along with them. A graduation owl from 1999, some already used bath gel and lotion, a box of Little Debbie snack along with some cute earrings, a ring, a bracelet, some ceramic birds perching on branches, soft sleeping socks from Bath and Body, and a shooting marble. Of course, there were lots of homemade cards, and pictures were taken of all of it. Such thoughtful little kiddos I have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYX6xHg95I/AAAAAAAAAL4/MXpRVC9Xp80/s1600-h/IMAG0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068264729036781458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYX6xHg95I/AAAAAAAAAL4/MXpRVC9Xp80/s320/IMAG0026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My most challenging kid of the year came into the room before anyone else, surprised me, and sang the whole birthday song to me. Then he made up a reason why he needed to make a card "for his mom." After working for a while at his desk, he mysteriously disappeared and brought this with him when they came to the class. It was signed by all my kids, some of my other science kids, the principal, the nurse, our computer tech guy, and several other teachers. Amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYYJRHg96I/AAAAAAAAAMA/QlbVgJ6StZY/s1600-h/IMAG0040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068264978144884642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYYJRHg96I/AAAAAAAAAMA/QlbVgJ6StZY/s320/IMAG0040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;At lunch time, I was settling in to eat my bagel and fruit, and was in the process of showing off my windchime to Erin, when Kate walked through the door! She brought Thai food for Casey, herself, and I! I wasn't expecting it at all and already felt so spoiled. It was perfect. Along with the lunch, she brought the funniest present ever! A personalized Kleenex box, with pictures of us on it and a little note! Who knew you could do such a random thing&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYYkRHg97I/AAAAAAAAAMI/0fARXFHoIKI/s1600-h/IMAG0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068265442001352626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYYkRHg97I/AAAAAAAAAMI/0fARXFHoIKI/s320/IMAG0042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In the end I had a desk full of fun things, and a board full of sweet cards. The kids were so excited to give me each present, and I felt so loved and appreciated. They really do start to care about you I guess!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYYphHg98I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/WcHYJuy2Rnw/s1600-h/IMAG0041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068265532195665858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYYphHg98I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/WcHYJuy2Rnw/s320/IMAG0041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At the end of the day I was in the middle of a little lecture (they had been picking on the hall monitors), when Carlye's mom came in with cupcakes, a gardenia plant, and a Starbucks gift card! Could the day get any better? Another girl in the class was holding up Carlye's little sister behind us. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's been a truly incredible day- one of the best ever. I was completely shocked by all the work my kids went to, and how excited they were to show me they love me. All day I was getting e-cards, texts, and facebook messages telling me happy birthday. I'm in awe at the goodness of the Father in giving me so many good gifts, the best of which ar&lt;/span&gt;e &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;these amazing people whose lives I get to be a part of. What a good God!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/3107223115359422449-4508880855615230058?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/4508880855615230058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=4508880855615230058' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4508880855615230058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4508880855615230058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/let-festivities-begin.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlYXWxHg92I/AAAAAAAAALg/OKmM611SfAo/s72-c/IMAG0017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-5734834960558411465</id><published>2007-05-23T12:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T12:45:35.312-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna make it after aalllll!</title><content type='html'>Only four and a half days after today until school is out and I'm a free woman! Can't wait folks, can't wait. I'm trying to keep the kids busy with projects and fun stuff, instead of the usual worksheets and such. Not that my teaching is fun &lt;em&gt;all &lt;/em&gt;the time, but you know, right now they require a little more entertaining. For tomorrow's act I'm considering belly dancing while juggling fire sticks and eating a pie. Stay tuned for pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I'm ready for summer! But before that, I'm ready for my birthday party, which is this Saturday! I have no idea what's been planned, other than it's at the lake, and it's joined with one for my dear friend Sandy. We share May 24th. I'm pretty darn excited because I LOVE surprises, and I'm pretty sure most of the people I love are going to be there. Also, I'm quite sure there will be lots of good food, which is always a plus. Everything I just said can basically be summed up in the following equation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprises + friends + food = fun time for Erica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, it's funny the things that a teacher may collect on her desk during a morning such as this. Right now I have two laser guns (the kids are planning skits), a stack of magnets, a paring knife(for the avacado I just had as a snack), a math book, a bunch of greeting cards to send people(the question is, will I really send them?), my starbucks cup(empty), and a plethora of papers and binders and such. Oh yeah, and an easy button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I must away, my students for to fetch! They will be stinking up my classroom in a few moments due to the fact that I'm getting them from PE. Windows open. Check! Air fresheners plugged in. Check, check!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-5734834960558411465?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/5734834960558411465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=5734834960558411465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5734834960558411465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5734834960558411465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-gonna-make-it-after-aalllll.html' title='I&apos;m gonna make it after aalllll!'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-2063903728597684164</id><published>2007-05-22T16:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:51.125-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlNZjRHg9wI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Xb8UuecY270/s1600-h/no-smoking.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067492468147156738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlNZjRHg9wI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Xb8UuecY270/s320/no-smoking.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.pgdba.org/Graphics/no-smoking.gif&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.msghelp.net/showthread.php%3Ftid%3D72638&amp;amp;amp;amp;h=368&amp;w=296&amp;amp;sz=28&amp;hl=en&amp;amp;start=3&amp;um=1&amp;amp;amp;amp;tbnid=UCbZ2YyZaPxumM:&amp;tbnh=122&amp;amp;tbnw=98&amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dno%2Bsmoking%2Bsigns%26svnum%3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4GFRC_enUS209US209"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.pgdba.org/Graphics/no-smoking.gif&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.msghelp.net/showthread.php%3Ftid%3D72638&amp;h=368&amp;amp;w=296&amp;sz=28&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;start=3&amp;amp;amp;amp;um=1&amp;tbnid=UCbZ2YyZaPxumM:&amp;amp;tbnh=122&amp;tbnw=98&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dno%2Bsmoking%2Bsigns%26svnum%3D10%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4GFRC_enUS209US209"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;To read a fantastic, and TRUE, story of bravery and heroism, involving both she and I, go to &lt;a href="http://chatswithcasey.blogspot.com/"&gt;Casey's blog&lt;/a&gt;. you won't regret it! The sign is a clue about what awaits you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-2063903728597684164?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/2063903728597684164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=2063903728597684164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/2063903728597684164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/2063903728597684164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-read-fantastic-and-true-story-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RlNZjRHg9wI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Xb8UuecY270/s72-c/no-smoking.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-6912941490875748290</id><published>2007-05-14T17:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:51.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#663366;"&gt;This is the dress I'll be wearing in my dear friend Amy's wedding, come this August 12th! It's the wedding of the summer, don't you know! Just picture my head and some hotter shoes. I'm pretty sure that if I stand the way she is, I'll pick up the man of my dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkjY0QhJWQI/AAAAAAAAAKo/kl0gwg5Ud-M/s1600-h/bridesmaids+dress.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064536173276911874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkjY0QhJWQI/AAAAAAAAAKo/kl0gwg5Ud-M/s400/bridesmaids+dress.bmp" 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/3107223115359422449-6912941490875748290?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/6912941490875748290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=6912941490875748290' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6912941490875748290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6912941490875748290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/this-is-dress-ill-be-wearing-in-my-dear.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkjY0QhJWQI/AAAAAAAAAKo/kl0gwg5Ud-M/s72-c/bridesmaids+dress.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-5964061675866955999</id><published>2007-05-14T15:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:52.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here are a few pictures from Kati and my fun Silver Dollar City day with her family. We became friends at Camp Koinonia last fall, and have been buddies ever since. Most of the time we are kicking each other's butts while running, or having good talks. I sure do like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;After a Panera bagel stop, on the way to SDC.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UAhJWLI/AAAAAAAAAKA/gP9i2SJf2Cg/s1600-h/n115800359_30140854_2254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064504832900552882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UAhJWLI/AAAAAAAAAKA/gP9i2SJf2Cg/s400/n115800359_30140854_2254.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here we gooooooo! We're on the front row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UQhJWMI/AAAAAAAAAKI/PD4Wlrpx4ds/s1600-h/n115800359_30140856_2721.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064504837195520194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UQhJWMI/AAAAAAAAAKI/PD4Wlrpx4ds/s400/n115800359_30140856_2721.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now, young lady! You better have a good time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UQhJWNI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/xkp74QgNNyA/s1600-h/n115800359_30140860_3773.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064504837195520210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UQhJWNI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/xkp74QgNNyA/s400/n115800359_30140860_3773.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Practicing my milking skills. A girls gotta have a few- skills that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UghJWOI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RZnJHndS220/s1600-h/n115800359_30140869_5897.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064504841490487522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UghJWOI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RZnJHndS220/s400/n115800359_30140869_5897.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Plumb tuckered out after hiking the hills looking for el bano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UwhJWPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/dJfJpQxci_Q/s1600-h/n115800359_30140885_9881.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064504845785454834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UwhJWPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/dJfJpQxci_Q/s400/n115800359_30140885_9881.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;THE END.&lt;br /&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/3107223115359422449-5964061675866955999?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/5964061675866955999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=5964061675866955999' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5964061675866955999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5964061675866955999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/here-are-few-pictures-from-kati-and-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rki8UAhJWLI/AAAAAAAAAKA/gP9i2SJf2Cg/s72-c/n115800359_30140854_2254.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-2619571450451401897</id><published>2007-05-14T12:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:52.934-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here are some pictures of one of the CUTEST kids ever!&lt;br /&gt;I mean, come on! How could he be any cuter? Check out more&lt;br /&gt;of his dad's work by clicking on the Big Smile Photography&lt;br /&gt;link. Or go to &lt;a href="http://www.bigsmilestudios.com"&gt;www.bigsmilestudios.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkiMKQhJWAI/AAAAAAAAAIo/AAlNqClZXaY/s1600-h/IMG_0079%2Bcopy_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064451888838694914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkiMKQhJWAI/AAAAAAAAAIo/AAlNqClZXaY/s400/IMG_0079%2Bcopy_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkiMKQhJV_I/AAAAAAAAAIg/Z7wOfCE1p5E/s1600-h/IMG_0076%2Bcopy_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064451888838694898" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkiMKQhJV_I/AAAAAAAAAIg/Z7wOfCE1p5E/s400/IMG_0076%2Bcopy_1.jpg" 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/3107223115359422449-2619571450451401897?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/2619571450451401897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=2619571450451401897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/2619571450451401897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/2619571450451401897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/here-are-some-pictures-of-one-of-cutest.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RkiMKQhJWAI/AAAAAAAAAIo/AAlNqClZXaY/s72-c/IMG_0079%2Bcopy_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-2020163696546068082</id><published>2007-05-08T12:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T12:44:18.045-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a girl to do??</title><content type='html'>I want to do something really fun and spontanious right now, but I can't! I'm too dang busy! I keep on accidentally double booking things, forgetting wedding showers (of which there are a million right now), and generally running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Yesterday I had school all day, professional development for two hours afterward, came back to my classroom to work, and then had a mission's board meeting until after nine. I just can't wait for May to be over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about summer, warmth, freedom to be spontanious instead of everything being planned out. Don't get me wrong, I like my planning, but every once in a while I want to be able to not double check my calendar two times before saying yes to someone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough complaining. Things are holding up pretty well, considering the business of my schedule. I had a great time with most of my mom's family last weekend. We all gathered in B-town for my grandpa's 83rd birthday!!! That's old! I have to tell you though, he is the most joy-filled, heavenly-minded man I know, and his love for his family is astounding. The best part of the weekend was Saturday night, when we had a party for gramps. As we get older, the catching up times with cousins, aunts and uncles is more and more enjoyable. I guess that just makes sense. :) We also got to take a fab family picture, which hasn't happened since I was about 9!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In school news, the kids are still hanging in there. Only 16 and a half days to go, but they keep on trying! I'm pretty impressed, because I feel VERY antsy and can't wait to be done! Right now they're starting the inventor's research projects, and studying for the big social studies states and capital's test. woo-hoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go pick the munchkins up now. I hope to add pictures from the birthday festivities soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-2020163696546068082?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/2020163696546068082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=2020163696546068082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/2020163696546068082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/2020163696546068082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/05/whats-girl-to-do.html' title='What&apos;s a girl to do??'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-9094817650570726132</id><published>2007-04-18T15:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:53.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055594429529232130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RikUWRSIkwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/FVm1PFmkiPc/s400/easter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Easter dinner-I don't know why it's so small)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well, it's been a loooooong time since I've written on here! Things have just been pretty smooth I guess, as far as my heart and life go. Easter was wonderful, with a great Sunday dinner shared with friends. I went to a Charlie Hall concert in Springfield, which was really a worship service, and that was fabulous. He's one of my favorites. My friends Nate and Sandy got married, thanks to their small group. We made it through our first week of MAP testing this week, with one more to go...and no one died! That about sums up the last three weeks. :) And coming up...most of my mom's side of the family will be coming to Branson for Grandpa's birthday extravaganza! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055545454017155810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RijnzhSIkuI/AAAAAAAAAGo/t70P026NqgU/s400/kate+and+nick.jpg" border="0" /&gt; (Kate and Nick are re-united!)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055594429529232114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RikUWRSIkvI/AAAAAAAAAGw/igS0jJ2Q9ag/s400/concert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Kate, Maren and I at the concert)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055544204181672642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RijmqxSIksI/AAAAAAAAAGY/mA9B6bVqHlk/s320/nate+and+sandy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;(The happy couple: Nate and Sandy) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last several months I've felt my heart staying at a relatively steady and restful place, which I believe has been the result of accepting the truth about hope, which I've written about in the past. I feel like things are falling into place, in my understanding of my heart, how it works, and what it needs. I find I'm more and more able to look at things objectively, not emotionlessly, but with a deeper trust in God's good plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, I guess I feel more mature, more at peace, less shakeable. Twenty-five has been a good year for me, and I'm not even dreading twenty-six, which is a mere month away. Here's to getting older and more mature!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-9094817650570726132?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/9094817650570726132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=9094817650570726132' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/9094817650570726132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/9094817650570726132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/04/well-its-been-loooooong-time-since-ive.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RikUWRSIkwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/FVm1PFmkiPc/s72-c/easter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-8995967253488783995</id><published>2007-03-30T15:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T15:52:31.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#990000;"&gt;Just so you all know, that pretty girl in the picture with me- to the right- is my friend Maren. She moved into Kate's house in January, and we love her a lot.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-8995967253488783995?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/8995967253488783995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=8995967253488783995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/8995967253488783995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/8995967253488783995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/03/just-so-you-all-know-that-pretty-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-6731685843185125044</id><published>2007-03-27T17:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:54.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tour-o-the classroom</title><content type='html'>I thought I'd give a little glimpse into my daily world- here's my classroom! Welcome!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNAi2tKJI/AAAAAAAAAFc/158QjeYgK10/s1600-h/class7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046719897941125266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="378" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNAi2tKJI/AAAAAAAAAFc/158QjeYgK10/s400/class7.jpg" width="300" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The view from my desk is quite exciting. Kind of boring with no kiddos! I get coffee in that mug almost every morning. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNBy2tKKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/pRhD0MUzMLk/s1600-h/class5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046719919415961762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNBy2tKKI/AAAAAAAAAFk/pRhD0MUzMLk/s400/class5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I LOVE that I have two windows, and they are almost always open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNCC2tKLI/AAAAAAAAAFs/9DOKYBS4ALw/s1600-h/class6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046719923710929074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNCC2tKLI/AAAAAAAAAFs/9DOKYBS4ALw/s400/class6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And here I am so excited to be sitting at my desk and getting to work! :) Looks like it could use some work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNCS2tKMI/AAAAAAAAAF0/wu40MISUjO8/s1600-h/class1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046719928005896386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNCS2tKMI/AAAAAAAAAF0/wu40MISUjO8/s400/class1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just so you know, my hair IS GROWING! Getting longer by the day, I tell you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNCi2tKNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/WPvusXVCt0w/s1600-h/class4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046719932300863698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNCi2tKNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/WPvusXVCt0w/s400/class4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-6731685843185125044?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/6731685843185125044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=6731685843185125044' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6731685843185125044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6731685843185125044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/03/tour-o-classroom.html' title='tour-o-the classroom'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RgmNAi2tKJI/AAAAAAAAAFc/158QjeYgK10/s72-c/class7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-3810392032130074113</id><published>2007-03-27T12:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T17:09:09.697-04:00</updated><title type='text'>change, it is a comin'</title><content type='html'>So, I'm not a big fan of change; typical of a left brainer like me, who enjoys routine, plans, and organization. Anyone who knows me, knows this about me. It takes a while to adjust my heart and mind, and embrace new things. I'm a LOT better than I used to be, but it's still a struggle. It just so happens that I'm being given several changes to practice with right now!&lt;br /&gt;First of all, my sister's moving out of Kate's house and into an apartment with a friend. She told Kate about this on Friday, but, knowing how change is hard for me, they waited to tell me until &lt;em&gt;Sunday&lt;/em&gt;. I think they were a little afraid of how I would react. hmmm. It's not &lt;em&gt;just &lt;/em&gt;that she's moving, it's that she &lt;em&gt;has already started to move&lt;/em&gt;! She says to me Sunday night, "So, Jackie's moving back in town, and she has a cute apartment." Uh-oh, I think. "And...I've kind of already started moving in with her." sigh.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it's a good thing. She can be on her own for the first time since leaving home (and by "on her own" I mean apart from Kate and I). It's good for her. blah blah. We went to see the apartment with her, and it's very cute. I know she'll have a lot of fun living there, and we can go visit her and have fun times. Still, my heart was sad when we drove away and left her behind. What am I, a sister...or a mom? That's what comes of homeschooling your kids, I guess. They all think they are each other's moms.&lt;br /&gt;Also in the realm of changes, one of my closest friends told me Sunday that she's engaged! It was quite the shocker, except not really, because that's just the kind of girl she is. So, there goes another one. And I'm tempted to feel forgotten and left behind.&lt;br /&gt;There are a few other changes that are on top of these and are causing a feeling of general...unsettledness. Not a huge amount, but it's there. I like my plans and none of them seem to be working out the way I'd like.&lt;br /&gt;The good thing is, in the midst of all this God is patiently pursuing my heart, continuing His training on hope. As I'm looking more deeply into what it means to hope, I'm being faced with the true depths of my desires- for a husband, a family, a sense of stability and belonging. They are stronger than I even imagined, which makes looking at them in the place I'm currently at, a little painful.&lt;br /&gt;The hope would be that I recognize that the root of these desires are for significance, purpose, security- all of which can only ever be perfectly met by a God who has no needs, and &lt;em&gt;gives all&lt;/em&gt; that I need, including the Spirit of His perfect Son to live inside of me. He gives the desire, and mercifully holds back the things that we would try to meet those desires with, so that we would see His surpassing ability to fulfill all our deepest dreams and strongest heart longings. So...what other choice do I have? He's where it's at! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll stand, with arms high and heart abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;In awe of the one who gave it all.&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand, my soul, Lord, to You surrendered.&lt;br /&gt;All I am is Yours" -Hillsong&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-3810392032130074113?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/3810392032130074113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=3810392032130074113' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/3810392032130074113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/3810392032130074113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/03/change-it-is-comin.html' title='change, it is a comin&apos;'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-7395029968953089941</id><published>2007-03-09T15:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T17:15:24.655-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I'm finding out I don't know as much about hope as I thought I did; or at least that the things I thought I knew, maybe I don't. I'm in a place right now where something I opened my heart up to hope for has been taken away. That is, the possibility of it has been taken away, and along with it I have to retreat out of depth in a close friendship. I feel deeply sorrowful about this, but on top of that is the continuing and deeper pain of something unexpected- Hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can hope be painful? I used to think that to experience hope meant to&lt;em&gt; feel&lt;/em&gt; a sense of well-being, anticipation, excitement. Now I'm realizing that hope is actually an &lt;em&gt;act&lt;/em&gt; of leaving my heart open to the dreams God has placed in it, not knowing whether these will be satisfied or not, and in what way and time. Hope is a gnawing feeling of longing and yearning for what isn't &lt;em&gt;yet&lt;/em&gt;. Jan Meyer puts it beautifully when she says, "Hope begins when the memory of what was, becomes a longing for what is to be restored."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; to hope. My instinct in my current situation is to draw in my heart, ignore the feelings of rejection and disappointment, determine to never be vulnerable again; to cover up and hide. I don't have to give into the pain, to the place I'm being called to walk through again. But...if I shut myself off from feeling this aching, from working through the confusion, I shut myself off from the gentle healing that Christ can minister. I'll soon lose my ability to feel about anything, which takes away my ability to have compassion and love for others; or respond to the Spirit's presence and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;prodding&lt;/span&gt;. I could do that. But the results of losing intimacy with Jesus and those He brings into my life, would be far more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;devastating&lt;/span&gt; than having to feel wounded for a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to hope. I know each time I choose to continue loving when rejected, the Love becomes more of Christ's and less of mine. I know that each time I choose to trust God's sovereignty over man's mistakes and foolishness, His steadfastness and constancy becomes greater and more evident in me. I know that when I choose to hold onto the dreams He's placed deep in my heart, He enlarges my heart to experience all of who He is- the Dream Giver and the Dream Come True.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The decision to hope is risky. I'll no doubt experience disappointment and frustration as a result. But my heart isn't in my hands, or the hands of any man. It is held securely in the hands of a Father who speaks to my heart, "I'm right here with you sweetie. I'm not going to leave you, even for a second. Let me take care of you through this. I love you so much." He's worth the risk, and what He has planned will be worth the wait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-7395029968953089941?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/7395029968953089941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=7395029968953089941' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7395029968953089941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7395029968953089941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/03/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-1057890225778001875</id><published>2007-02-28T16:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:54.755-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how sweet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/ReX3uMuABVI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/oecbmQ5WrgE/s1600-h/kate+and+nick+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036704131343975762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/ReX3uMuABVI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/oecbmQ5WrgE/s320/kate+and+nick+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is my dear friend, Kate, with her suitor, Nick.&lt;br /&gt;They went to a wedding together last weekend,&lt;br /&gt;where this adorable picture was snapped.&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/3107223115359422449-1057890225778001875?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/1057890225778001875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=1057890225778001875' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/1057890225778001875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/1057890225778001875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/how-sweet.html' title='how sweet!'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/ReX3uMuABVI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/oecbmQ5WrgE/s72-c/kate+and+nick+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-1949434685210020020</id><published>2007-02-22T09:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T09:29:16.248-05:00</updated><title type='text'>confession: I get mad at my kids</title><content type='html'>I'm just going to be honest right now. I don't want to be at work today. I have several kids who are driving me crazy and I'd like them to just move away. I don't want to see them anymore, or have to deal with their issues anymore. Seriously. I feel grumpy and like I'm being mean to them all, when it's just a few who deserve the grump. I hate it, but it's what it is at this moment. Just thought I'd confess that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-1949434685210020020?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/1949434685210020020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=1949434685210020020' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/1949434685210020020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/1949434685210020020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/confession-i-get-mad-at-my-kids.html' title='confession: I get mad at my kids'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-5291581811605355178</id><published>2007-02-20T16:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:55.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why trees?</title><content type='html'>I love trees. I identify with trees. If I were to get a tattoo, it would be of a twisty tree, that has roots reaching down, and fruit hanging on its branches. I drew one once, but chickened out when it came to actually getting the thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdtl4Pj6uQI/AAAAAAAAADw/C3zIZawZy2I/s1600-h/trees.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033729025440921858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdtl4Pj6uQI/AAAAAAAAADw/C3zIZawZy2I/s400/trees.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little my favorite time of day, the time that felt soft and full of peace, was when the sun was setting and the trees made long, cool, shadows across the lawn. Even now, when I see this, I can almost feel the calm, cool, shadowy, green grass in my heart. That speaks of God to me, and how He is our place of quiet refuge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdyspfj6uVI/AAAAAAAAAE0/HgO7R3Cmcbk/s1600-h/huge+trees.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034088312340134226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdyspfj6uVI/AAAAAAAAAE0/HgO7R3Cmcbk/s400/huge+trees.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like trees because they are strong and sturdy. They can grow anywhere, even out of cracks in the side of a cliff, or in an open field. They make me want to be that strong, that steadfast, that rooted into the soil. They remind me I can't be like that unless I have dirt to wrap around, light to warm and give energy, and water to slurp up to the tip of each limb and stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdtoofj6uTI/AAAAAAAAAEI/in-m7kKIS5o/s1600-h/aspens.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033732053392865586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdtoofj6uTI/AAAAAAAAAEI/in-m7kKIS5o/s400/aspens.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trees change with the seasons; lush and green when the water is a plenty, vibrantly painted when death is approaching, bare and black against blue sky while awaiting warmth and buds again. They are honest, showing what they are, what they have to offer, what they need and are waiting for. We don't look at a tree in winter and wonder why it isn't pretty and green and giving us fruit. Why do we look at a friend, also in a time of winter, and expect them to be shading us, feeding us, looking pretty? At the same time, the essence of that tree is still present: it's roots still strain down deeper, its bark continues to wrap around its sturdy trunk, limbs reach upward and out. The hope is still there. It still has a future.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034087831303797058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdysNfj6uUI/AAAAAAAAAEs/2stDBIeBihk/s400/white+tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The final reason I feel drawn to trees is because of how they are spoken of in the Word. Psalm 1 says that the man who delights in the law (in knowing and following God's ways), will be like a tree &lt;em&gt;firmly&lt;/em&gt; planted by streams of water; while in chapter 52 the Psalmist declares, "I am like a green olive tree in the house of God." Proverbs says that wisdom is a "tree of life to those who take hold of her and happy are those who hold her fast." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll say with the Psalmist, not that I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; to be a tree, but that I &lt;em&gt;AM&lt;/em&gt; a tree. I have been planted firmly in the house of God- planted by a stream of living water, provided with all I need to grow, but not necessarily sheltered from the weather. Regardless of the climate I live in, I want to produce fruit, provide shade, have leaves that won't whither, bring life into dead places. I will be a tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3107223115359422449-5291581811605355178?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/5291581811605355178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=5291581811605355178' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5291581811605355178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/5291581811605355178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/why-trees.html' title='Why trees?'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/Rdtl4Pj6uQI/AAAAAAAAADw/C3zIZawZy2I/s72-c/trees.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-56111436885424789</id><published>2007-02-20T14:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:56.188-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Here are a few pictures of some of my favorite people: my small group!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chillin' at Kate's house: Angie, Emily, Jimbo, and ME!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNWfj6uHI/AAAAAAAAACQ/o2C62ubK7RU/s1600-h/friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033702057341270130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNWfj6uHI/AAAAAAAAACQ/o2C62ubK7RU/s400/friends.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNWvj6uII/AAAAAAAAACY/JVhu-vrmDls/s1600-h/ice+storm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033702061636237442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNWvj6uII/AAAAAAAAACY/JVhu-vrmDls/s400/ice+storm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to see a movie in Springfield after a bad ice storm: Nick, Kate, me, Maren, Rob, and Tim&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNW_j6uKI/AAAAAAAAACo/WWQHfd6x8vk/s1600-h/kate+and+nick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033702065931204770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNW_j6uKI/AAAAAAAAACo/WWQHfd6x8vk/s400/kate+and+nick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate and Nick&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNXPj6uLI/AAAAAAAAACw/IvUW8wK2g0Y/s1600-h/small+group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033702070226172082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNXPj6uLI/AAAAAAAAACw/IvUW8wK2g0Y/s400/small+group.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back: Dave, Rob, me&lt;br /&gt;Middle: Nate, Sandy, Maren, Leah, Casey&lt;br /&gt;Front: Nick, Kate, Sean, Angie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-56111436885424789?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/56111436885424789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=56111436885424789' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/56111436885424789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/56111436885424789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/here-are-few-pictures-of-some-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtNWfj6uHI/AAAAAAAAACQ/o2C62ubK7RU/s72-c/friends.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-6133148884485674665</id><published>2007-02-15T18:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:56.357-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdTtFPj6uFI/AAAAAAAAAB4/y6g4EMIPG7Q/s1600-h/alive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031907358011996242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdTtFPj6uFI/AAAAAAAAAB4/y6g4EMIPG7Q/s320/alive.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, this is the last one today. I kind of get obsessed when I start something new. This was so profound, though. I just had to share it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-6133148884485674665?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/6133148884485674665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=6133148884485674665' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6133148884485674665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/6133148884485674665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/truth.html' title='The truth'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdTtFPj6uFI/AAAAAAAAAB4/y6g4EMIPG7Q/s72-c/alive.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-4041366121582917381</id><published>2007-02-15T16:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:56.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering and Looking Forward</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtdV_j6uMI/AAAAAAAAADM/rKIFVYIhmps/s1600-h/346299735_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033719640937380034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtdV_j6uMI/AAAAAAAAADM/rKIFVYIhmps/s400/346299735_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the most streeeetching and life-changing things I ever did was to live in China for a year. Throughout the year I experienced every emotion one could feel, all heightened by the fact that I was in a foreign country, removed from any of the things I would normally have clung to and found comfort in. Thus the stretching. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Months before I left I began to feel a deep sense of sadness at the thought of leaving the community of friends I had been growing up in for the previous five years. I couldn't imagine how God could possible provide that same sense of comfort, familiarity, and depth of relationship anywhere else, much less in a shorter period of time. I remember getting to Beijing in the fall of 2004, and sitting in my new apartment at 21st Century Experimental School for the first time. It was quiet, completely barren and whitewashed. My few things were settled into my bedroom, and my new teammates were settling into their own. With the sun shining through the hazy sky and into my bedroom window I felt so alone, unknown, and overwhelmed at what lay ahead of me. Not for the first time, I was wondering how in the crap I got to be there, and if I was really going to make it through the year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was away from home, community, church, family; Wal-Mart and GAP; people who stand in lines and value personal space and efficiency. In those first months in Beijing there were so many times I felt so incredibly misunderstood, so strained from trying to know and understand my teammates, so exhausted from the constant rubbing of western culture against Chinese culture. Homesickness plagued my heart every single day, made worse by the lack of communication. Somehow in the midst of it all there was a purpose and plan, and two friendships that would become a part of my life forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy and Monica. Yes, girls. This is for you. The first time I met them in California I was completely intimidated by their confidence, their ease in interacting with anyone, their cute clothes and hair and their tans. :) It sounds so silly now, but I never imagined these two girls would play such influential roles in my year and the rest of my life. I never imagined they would become a place of refuge and hope for my soul. That sounds dramatic, but it was!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Immediately after we got to the school I started seeing who these women really were, and they were just as lonely, scared, and weak as I was! This weakness began to draw us together as we shared every minute of every day with each other and others on our teams. Learning Chinese, trying to speak it to order food and find our way around town, watching Alias and Survivor, teaching joys and frustrations, challenging team dynamics, and all the gory parts of our hearts on display. We had no choice but to walk through it together. Now I see it was a beautiful road of surrender and trust. Then it only felt like pulling, straining, and pain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was amazed at the way Amy began pursuing me as a friend; asking me all kinds of questions about my life, my past, college, my family. She wanted to know everything, and that translated to my heart that she wanted to know ME. Monica exhibited such grace inviting me into her already established friendship with Amy, extending the hospitality of her grander apartment and comfort foods from home. In many ways I think we became a home for each other, so that even now when we're together, there is that sense of knowing, safety, history, and commitment that is attached with how you feel when you think of your family or the house you grew up in. There is an eternal value and reality to it that makes my heart truly yearn to be near them. Who would have thought?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The point of all this is, God can create community, relationships, and wholeness wherever and whenever He desires to. He can use the most unlikely people and bring it out of the most unlikely places. The key ingredients are His sovereign knowledge of our hearts, and our willingness to respond to His call to trust Him. We walk out of a particular place and time and realize the treasure that is the life of Jesus has only increased within us. And our boastings of His working all things for our good become a springboard for another's faith to move deeper into a life of trusting our steadfast and unchanging God.&lt;/div&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/3107223115359422449-4041366121582917381?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/4041366121582917381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=4041366121582917381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4041366121582917381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/4041366121582917381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/remembering-and-looking-forward.html' title='Remembering and Looking Forward'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdtdV_j6uMI/AAAAAAAAADM/rKIFVYIhmps/s72-c/346299735_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107223115359422449.post-7790865169517426404</id><published>2007-02-15T14:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T03:05:56.755-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Getting Started'/><title type='text'>newbie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdTCA_j6t8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/hUIOkzgVgVc/s1600-h/shoveling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031860005997557698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdTCA_j6t8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/hUIOkzgVgVc/s320/shoveling.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;    So, I finally made one of these because Kate wanted me too. I'm not confident that my blogs will be as interesting, humerous, or picture-filled as hers are, but I'll do the best I can I guess.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   Here's a start at the picture part! Kate, my sister and I "shoveling" snow. Kate had actually already done all the shoveling, but she wanted a posed picture anyway. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107223115359422449-7790865169517426404?l=ericatree.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/feeds/7790865169517426404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3107223115359422449&amp;postID=7790865169517426404' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7790865169517426404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107223115359422449/posts/default/7790865169517426404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ericatree.blogspot.com/2007/02/newbie.html' title='newbie'/><author><name>Erica Joy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14837434950613810191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/SFCsRK_YaxI/AAAAAAAAAXA/6FF3VoG5pBc/S220/DSCF4242.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5rK88H-gN1U/RdTCA_j6t8I/AAAAAAAAAAM/hUIOkzgVgVc/s72-c/shoveling.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
