<?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-7189248056744589817</id><updated>2011-08-02T20:12:06.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Traffic, Noise and Light</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-460370471291377167</id><published>2009-06-18T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T21:55:06.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Hundred Eighty-Eight Hours.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SjsUBpBZLFI/AAAAAAAAACs/KjaoPzLY5Eg/s1600-h/ken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SjsUBpBZLFI/AAAAAAAAACs/KjaoPzLY5Eg/s320/ken.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348891000856718418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall has been gone for 37 days now. You know the locket Tom Hanks has in Cast Away with his wife's picture in it? This is that picture for me. I lay awake, in a cave, talking to a volleyball and flashing my flash light at this picture over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's having a blast in South America and has sent me some really strange pictures-- some of Pablo Neruda, some of tiny snowmen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In writing this blog post I realized that today is hump day: Kendall has been gone for 37 days, she will be home in 37 days. There's some good news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally broke down and started a twitter account. At last I can share with the world all of the white knuckle excitement that is me seeing Alex's dad in Tuscaloosa or shaving off my mustache. Exciting stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The summer has been very hectic: class every day-- 3 books a week, growing church responsibilities and a new boss and administrative assistant at work. Work I think has been the hardest to adjust to; my last boss was such a character that I had gotten used to his crazy way of running things. The new guy is nice, but does his own thing and I don't know him very well yet. Busy, busy, busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been teaching my first Wednesday night class on "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young. The discussion in it has been wonderful. To be honest, I had no idea what to expect for attendance, discussion or opinion on the book. Everyone has been faithful about coming, talking and getting into the book. Not all of them agree with or like it, but they're all excited to be talking about the points it's trying to make. Next Wednesday will be the final meeting of the class. I'll spend July trying to work up a lesson plan to teach a class on something (probably one of the Gospels) in August.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had such high hopes for updating this thing more often... Ah, well.&lt;br /&gt;Ben&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-460370471291377167?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/460370471291377167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=460370471291377167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/460370471291377167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/460370471291377167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2009/06/eight-hundred-eighty-eight-hours.html' title='Eight Hundred Eighty-Eight Hours.'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SjsUBpBZLFI/AAAAAAAAACs/KjaoPzLY5Eg/s72-c/ken.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-4887511468716781719</id><published>2009-01-24T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T18:46:27.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We came to break the bad; We came to cheer the sad</title><content type='html'>12Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 13Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 14And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. &lt;em&gt;Col 3:12-15&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-4887511468716781719?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/4887511468716781719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=4887511468716781719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4887511468716781719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4887511468716781719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-came-to-break-bad-we-came-to-cheer.html' title='We came to break the bad; We came to cheer the sad'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-4882609398834350674</id><published>2008-11-30T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T14:09:13.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Billion People</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;And all of you so beautiful&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want to bring you home with me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;to sit close on the couch.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My invitation inserted in six billion bottles, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;corked with bark from the final forest&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and dropped in the ocean of my longing.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We would speak the language of no words,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;pass the jug of our drunken joy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;at being babies growing into death.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sometimes, I know, life is stupid, pointless,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;beside the point, but here's the point &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;—maybe we would fall &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;in love, settle down together, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;share the wine, the bills, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the last of the oxygen &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;and the remote.&lt;/em&gt; -- Tom Chandler&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-4882609398834350674?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/4882609398834350674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=4882609398834350674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4882609398834350674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4882609398834350674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/11/six-billion-people.html' title='Six Billion People'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-3942066520710621606</id><published>2008-11-28T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T20:01:16.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A paradox of virtue</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Pa-tience&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Noun&lt;br /&gt;1. The quality of being patient, as the bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needs it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, ironically enough, I can't wait for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-3942066520710621606?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/3942066520710621606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=3942066520710621606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/3942066520710621606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/3942066520710621606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/11/paradox-of-virtue.html' title='A paradox of virtue'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-4015067352238470128</id><published>2008-10-24T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:47:35.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's only music so that there's new ringtones</title><content type='html'>It seemed like the world was conspiring against me all of Thursday and Friday. My car gave out, in the rain on the interstate. After towing it and getting a ride, I didn't get into Decatur until about 1:30am. This morning I was up and on the road up to Florence for my big interview with the Northwest District Superintendent (I work for the Southwest DS). I got lost on the way, not having street signs to help me along and the rain to boot. The good news is that the Northwest DS said he would have a church for me when I got ready to go to seminary. That means I'll be able to pastor a church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amount of stuff that managed to go bad all at once began to crack me up. I had to laugh-- it felt like I couldn't win for losing. And while I have some trials in front of me in the weeks ahead, with buying a car and dealing with that extra burden, I feel like things are starting to trend upwards again. I'm getting a lot out of my time at church; Wade's sermons in the morning and our evening college group are filling me up with the perspective and attitude I need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just four days of school and work, then its off to Orange Beach to play some guitar, drink some beer, look at the ocean and not think about &lt;strong&gt;anything&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;for a good long while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O Most Merciful God,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Call back the one who flees,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Draw back the one who resists,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lift up the one who falls,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Support the one who stands,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And accompany the one who walks. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amen.  --&lt;/em&gt; St. Thomas Aquinas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-4015067352238470128?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/4015067352238470128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=4015067352238470128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4015067352238470128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4015067352238470128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/10/theres-only-music-so-that-theres-new.html' title='There&apos;s only music so that there&apos;s new ringtones'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-2980471366089579623</id><published>2008-10-12T22:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T22:26:24.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the bottom of myself</title><content type='html'>Father, I feel like there is a part of me missing,&lt;br /&gt;I’m exhausted from hobbling around with out it.&lt;br /&gt;I think about it everyday—&lt;br /&gt;Some days I’m ashamed,&lt;br /&gt;Some days I’m frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;Then I think of all You have put in front of me,&lt;br /&gt;And I just feel guilty about all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abba, be my focus.&lt;br /&gt;Keep my heart and eyes on You.&lt;br /&gt;Put the strength back in my legs,&lt;br /&gt;And lift me out of the bottom of myself.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-2980471366089579623?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/2980471366089579623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=2980471366089579623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/2980471366089579623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/2980471366089579623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/10/out-of-bottom-of-myself.html' title='Out of the bottom of myself'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-470707110136980725</id><published>2008-10-06T17:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T22:12:26.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation on "big L" Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The Lord is compassion and love,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;slow to anger and rich in mercy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God does not treat us according to our sins,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;or repay us according to our faults.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From &lt;a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Psalm+103&amp;amp;vnum=yes&amp;amp;version=nrsv"&gt;Psalm 103&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first read this passage I realized how foreign this idea was to me. When I was little I was given the basic WASP-y theology: if you’re good you go to Heaven and if you’re bad you go to Hell (but don’t talk about that second part). The weird thing is, that’s not exactly how it goes. This passage shows that God doesn’t have favorites, we aren’t playing on an uneven playing field. God’s love isn’t divied out in proportion to your virtue—God’s love can’t be quantified that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT’S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!! No one told me that when I was little. Given, I know that idea is a little abstract for “children's church,” but I think it might have spared me some heart/headache over the years. “God loves you no matter what you do. He does good things for you because He loves you. We do good things for each other to show we love Him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where can you hide from that kind of love? It is so strange to think that someone, anyone, could love me just as much as &lt;a href="http://www.taize.fr/en_article6736.html"&gt;Brother Roger&lt;/a&gt;. If you put my life next to his, even I would choose him over me. I’m going out on a limb, but here it is: My Father loves me just as much as Jesus Christ because God’s love is limitless. To say that God loves me less would suggest that there’s a place where God’s love for me stops. That’s what my faith is: a trust that such a place does not and CANNOT exist. Nothing my thick skull can cook up would ever make Him throw his hands up and say, “Done!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cynical person would  suggest that if true,  this would be a written invitation to do whatever I want knowing that He’ll always forgive me. But I’m just in awe of that Love-- I’m completely accepted, in spite of all of the rotten things I’ve done and said in my life. I’ve been loved so much that I’ve been guided safely through 21 years. Years of stumbling, sin, and active, aggressive, disbelief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father said to his slaves, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to celebrate.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Luke+15%3A11+-+15%3A32&amp;amp;vnum=yes&amp;amp;version=nrsvae"&gt;Luke 15&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-470707110136980725?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/470707110136980725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=470707110136980725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/470707110136980725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/470707110136980725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/10/meditation-on-big-l-love.html' title='Meditation on &quot;big L&quot; Love'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-1572620664815155527</id><published>2008-09-03T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T13:44:23.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sarah Palin Question</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.huffingtonpost.com/2008-09-02-PalinMcCain2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://images.huffingtonpost.com/2008-09-02-PalinMcCain2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's been an awful lot of jive moving around on the internet and in the news about McCain's VP "pick" Sarah Palin, the first term Govenor of Alaska. I say "pick" because she was not John McCain's first or even second choice (I didn't know he didn't get to choose his own VP). Unless you were drunk through&lt;em&gt; all &lt;/em&gt;of Labor Day weekend, nothing I've said so far is really news. She has a pregnant teenage daughter, sure. She is under investigation for the firing of a state trooper, okie doke. Her husband got a DUI 22 years ago, who didn't in the 80's. Although despite all of this certifiable "hooplah" there's something no one really seems to be talking about. I mean, I listen closely, I read the news papers. Why has no one stood up and screamed at the top of their lungs "THIS PERSON IS ONE HEART BEAT AWAY FROM BEING THE LEADER OF THE FREE WORLD!" Nevermind her scandal, politicians with no scandal hang out with Big Foot and Santa on the weekends, but she isn't even kinda sorta qualified to lead in the event that John McCain dies. Now I'm not saying that he wouldn't make it through two terms. What I AM saying is that McCain has a foot in the grave. If conservatives really want to have an "Experience" fight, I think they've finally thrown the match.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Edit:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QG1vPYbRB7k&amp;amp;eurl=http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QG1vPYbRB7k&amp;amp;eurl=http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QG1vPYbRB7k&amp;amp;eurl=http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;/This. Go take a look. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-1572620664815155527?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/1572620664815155527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=1572620664815155527' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/1572620664815155527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/1572620664815155527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah-palin-question.html' title='The Sarah Palin Question'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-4241581207958999381</id><published>2008-08-26T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T23:03:03.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Highway to Zion</title><content type='html'>Was reading psalms between class today. Saw 84:5 and had to write about it. Thought I'd post it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy are those whose strength is in You, In whose heart are the highways to Zion.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt; --Psalm 84:5 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May my heart be a highway to Zion.&lt;br /&gt;That those who could see my true self,&lt;br /&gt;Would see a path that begins and ends in You.&lt;br /&gt;Your gifts dress both sides of the road,&lt;br /&gt;They are in abundance.&lt;br /&gt;Your mercy softens its hardest turns.&lt;br /&gt;Your love lights its darkest places.&lt;br /&gt;Though there are many forks&lt;br /&gt;That lead to nothing,&lt;br /&gt;Your voice leads me home.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-4241581207958999381?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/4241581207958999381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=4241581207958999381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4241581207958999381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/4241581207958999381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/08/highway-to-zion.html' title='Highway to Zion'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189248056744589817.post-5350672523649771159</id><published>2008-08-22T23:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T00:01:25.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look towards God and be radiant</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Enable us to recognize your presence in our neighbors.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking around on campus again has been great for people watching. I've been lucky enough to catch sight a person or two in the middle of a moment of real joy. Glancing over I'll see them laughing at a joke or lighting up when they see somebody they know. Someone will spark that expression on their face. Even though I don't know them its nice to be able to peek into that bond. To throw out a church term they're &lt;em&gt;in communion &lt;/em&gt;with one another. It gives me a sunny feelin inside. Their joy is genuine and of God.&lt;br /&gt;A lot of years of desensitizing media gave me some real obtuse views about my fellow man and society at large. My empathy hasn't been where it needed to be. I'd get a lot angrier than reasonable at a situation (especially on the road) and just let all of that hate and anger fester or come on out in profanity, honking, calamity and/or shenanigans. &lt;em&gt;Let us love one another, because love is from God... if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. &lt;/em&gt;Looking at my life and my actions through that has been freeing. Nothing is its own reward like love.&lt;br /&gt;I feel a lot more comfortable in my own skin. I'm trying my best in what I'm doing, and not afraid of whatever may be in front of me.&lt;br /&gt;-Ben&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7189248056744589817-5350672523649771159?l=trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/feeds/5350672523649771159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7189248056744589817&amp;postID=5350672523649771159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/5350672523649771159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7189248056744589817/posts/default/5350672523649771159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://trafficnoiseandlight.blogspot.com/2008/08/look-towards-god-and-be-radiant.html' title='Look towards God and be radiant'/><author><name>Ben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09154644368757218881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P7xiN6B1dlg/SLLQAhbXQzI/AAAAAAAAABI/v4BhaHVzF0o/S220/Ben+ORB.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
