<?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-2289421156496186814</id><updated>2011-07-31T04:30:15.725-04:00</updated><category term='Adventure'/><category term='God'/><category term='Enlightenment'/><title type='text'>The Yellow Brick Road.</title><subtitle type='html'>Musings on God, food, music, and life in general.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-4576668981368123960</id><published>2010-10-23T10:32:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T01:44:56.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Lover</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Beloved&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—&lt;br /&gt;     for your love is more delightful than wine.&lt;p&gt; Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes;&lt;br /&gt;     your name is like perfume poured out.&lt;br /&gt;     No wonder the maidens love you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Take me away with you—let us hurry!&lt;br /&gt;     Let the king bring me into his chambers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friends&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    We rejoice and delight in you;&lt;br /&gt;     we will praise your love more than wine."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;-Song of Songs 1:2-4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Faithful Lover,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You've captured me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Great pursuer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;To you I succumb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You've breathed life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Into this heart &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;That was nothing more than numb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You call me dark, yet lovely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Your long-courted reward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I rest in your arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Peaceful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Knowing I'm adored&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Redeeming Lover,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You've stolen my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;And taken it ransom with your grace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You held me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Healed me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Comforted me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;As tears trailed down my face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I was nothing more than a piece of trash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Used and tossed aside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;But you see me through unblemished eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;As your pure and perfect Bride&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Beautiful Lover,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;You've romanced me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Press your heart to mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Intertwine our ardent souls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Until we beat as one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Your scent envelops my senses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So rich &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Better than the darkest wine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am forever yours,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;My beloved,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;And you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Forever mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-4576668981368123960?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/4576668981368123960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-lover.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4576668981368123960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4576668981368123960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2010/10/my-lover.html' title='My Lover'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-1920007958762638956</id><published>2010-10-23T10:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-23T11:26:42.974-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter from the Homeward Bound</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;A simple letter from the departed&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Weep not, my weary love&lt;div&gt;Cry for me no more&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My spirit's free&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And welcomed home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I step through Heaven's door&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fear not, my faithful friend&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've arrived safe and sound&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let go your sorrow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the approach of dawn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For &lt;i&gt;there&lt;/i&gt; joy will be found&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mourn not, my sweet mother&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Father sends His love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For you held,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You taught,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You protected me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As He watched from above&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shout praises, brothers and sisters!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm finally where I belong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My heart rejoices&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With angels' voices&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we join in Heaven's song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-1920007958762638956?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/1920007958762638956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2010/10/letter-from-homeward-bound.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/1920007958762638956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/1920007958762638956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2010/10/letter-from-homeward-bound.html' title='Letter from the Homeward Bound'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-1123085730853622275</id><published>2010-04-17T23:33:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T22:48:36.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jónsi, Ephesians, and Perfume.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;G&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;o sing, too loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Make your voice break&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sing it out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6HjT4SQKJI"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Go Do"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Jónsi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My mother has been asking me for awhile to start writing again, but up until now I just haven't found much inspiration.  I am quite ecstatic about what's going on in my daily life (from school--which is proving to be one of the best choices I've made to date--and church to friends and work), but I think that I've lately been too caught up in the busy, though not overly chaotic, flow of my schedule to truly appreciate the beauty that constantly surrounds me.  For the past few weeks I've been trying my best to slow down a bit and open my eyes, broaden my mind, and try to grasp even the slightest understanding of what God desires for me in this season (I feel like I've written about this sort of thing before, but I don't think it's redundant to seek the Lord's guidance with every new chapter of life).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I live in a beautiful mess of a city.  Atlanta is diverse, it's expansive, and it evokes so many different emotions from me that I don't know where to begin.   Since moving to Midtown, I have met new people in restaurants and coffee shops, at the park and on the streets, and pretty much everywhere else I can frequently be found.  Not one person I've met shares the exact same story as another, but every person does share one common quality:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;They crave love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I know I often write about loving people, but I feel like I'm being challenged to do it in a way I've never experienced before.  The beginning of Ephesians 5 says, "Be imitators of God, therefore, as  dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."  This kind of love, a God-reflecting love, requires total and complete abandon.  It's more than just selflessness; it's no-holds-barred, free of inhibitions, wild and crazy love.  Childlike love.  Love like my niece feels for her little brother, the kind that inspires  him to follow her everywhere she goes, regardless of the fact that she can run and he can only crawl,  because he just wants to be wherever she is.  We should be so enthralled by our Father's love for us that our greatest desire is to dwell in His presence; if we are truly living as children of God, His love will overflow from us, revealing His heart to everyone we encounter.  Baristas, classmates, co-workers, neighbors, and every person we encounter will see something different in us.  They will see past us, and, even if they cannot yet identify it, they will catch a glimpse of the kind of love God wants to lavish on them.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;This love requires our sacrifice.  We have to die to our fears of the world, our fears of seeming  foolish or naive.  We have to sacrifice our pride and our vanity, but doing so will leave us so rich with the fragrant love of our Father that we will be like the sweetest and most irresistible perfume available.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We might not always smell sweet; we all have our "off" days, the ones where one thing or another puts us in a foul, self-absorbed mood, thus leaving us smelling more like a JV football team's locker room than Chanel No. 5, but that is why we serve a forgiving God.  Even though we might end up reeking of the world, His fragrance is never any less perfect.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;So let's do it.  Let's sing too loud.  Let's play in the rain.  Let's be childlike.  We have nothing to lose but the chains holding us down.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Make your voice break.  Sing it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-1123085730853622275?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/1123085730853622275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/1123085730853622275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/1123085730853622275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='Jónsi, Ephesians, and Perfume.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-3800572908641076434</id><published>2009-11-19T12:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T12:29:51.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A proposal.</title><content type='html'>I haven't been feeling particularly inspired to write lately, but this morning I received a Facebook message that changed it all...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The message came from a friend of my brother's, a guy I have seen once since middle school.  While my first thought upon reading the message was, ahem, something I don't think I need to print, my second thought was, "This is hilarious.  I will respond, then copy it all to my blog."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.  Rachel Robbins, if you read this, please know that I actually LOVE Utah and want to come visit you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope you enjoy this as much as my mother and I did:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header" style="display: block; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(179, 179, 179); "&gt;&lt;h2 class="gigaboxx_thread_header_subject"  style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: block; font-size:15px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Georgia, serif;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-weight: normal;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:15px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-weight: normal; font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header" style="display: block; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 1px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 20px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(179, 179, 179); "&gt;&lt;h2 class="gigaboxx_thread_header_subject" style="font-size: 15px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: block; "&gt;A proposal&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;Between &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1120590266" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;You&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=7031149" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;Lee Reeve&lt;/a&gt;s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span bindpoint="authorLinkWrapper" class="GBThreadMessageRow_AuthorLink_Wrapper" style=" font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;a class="GBThreadMessageRow_AuthorLink" href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=7031149" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Lee Reeves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;November 18 at 11:42pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;Dear Logan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;I’m writing you today with a proposal. Something that has been on my mind quite a while now. I think that you and I should date, and eventually be married. (I told you this was a proposal) Yes, I know this may come as a shock to you especially since we have not spoken in a while. However, I am very convinced this is the right decision, and hopefully by the end of this letter you will be too. I’ll start by reminding you that when you were in 7th grade we had the same chorus class. If you recall we often flirted during this class. Of course it was middle school, but one cannot deny the intense connection we shared. I know some where deep down you think about this from time to time. Obviously we’ve changed since then, but 21 is just 12 backwards only way better. For instance I no longer put gel in my hair, and if you like you could style my hair any way you want. I’ve also become a much less picky eater, and I’ll eat anything you bring home from your future culinary classes. I’ll even make you laugh while I eat it. Occasionally I make people laugh. Just imagine you’re having a hard day at school. That jerk, chef professor won’t cut you any slack, but when you get home I’ll devour that torta rustica and tell you a knock knock joke. Then, knowing you need a something fun to look forward to I’ll buy you and your girl friends Justin Nozuka tickets. I won’t even mind if you dance on stage with him as long as you agree to travel to Brazil with me in the summer. I know you love to travel, and so do I. I know what you’re thinking though, “Lee, how will you ever have the money for Nozuka tickets and Brazil?” Well Logan, I will have an excellent business degree after I graduate from Auburn. I know that money isn’t everything, but thats why I give a mean back scratch. Not to mention if you need some jewelry I have perfected the art of macaroni necklaces. I might even propose with a mac and cheese engagement ring. Then we could elope because true love shouldn’t be a show for the world, but we could shout out our love from the roof tops if we so desire. Now Logan I know you have to be thinking “Lee, this seems like the most perfect plan ever. What’s the catch?” I was afraid you would ask this, but I’m going to be honest with you. I am not actually in love with you. Recently Alex, Ryan (my roommate), and I were planning how we could hang out forever. We decided marrying each others sisters would be the perfect way to accomplish this. I understand this could be a deal breaker. Why would you want to be a with a guy who only pretends to love you? I’ll tell you why. Because eventually every guy will be pretending. When he realizes that, he might just leave, but since I’ve always known that I’m pretending I won’t leave. You will have someone who seems to care for you in a deep way forever. I promise you won’t be able to tell a difference. Think about it. I’ll always put up with the stuff that annoys me. I’ll apologize every time I’m wrong no questions asked. We can decorate the house any way you want. Basically you will have it all. Just say yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;With (fake) love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;Lee Reeves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span bindpoint="authorLinkWrapper" class="GBThreadMessageRow_AuthorLink_Wrapper" style=" font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;a class="GBThreadMessageRow_AuthorLink" href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1120590266" style="cursor: pointer; color: rgb(59, 89, 152); text-decoration: none; "&gt;Logan Baker&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;November 19 at 9:37a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;Dear Lee,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;While I appreciate the (fake) sentiments and the obvious thought you've put into this plan, I'm afraid I cannot accept your proposal. Instead of just blowing you off like most girls would, I will include substantial support in my argument against this idea us marrying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;In 7th grade, I was (trying) to flirt with Tyler McMullen. Megan Castleberry and I thought he was quite the "hottie," so I offer my deepest condolences for your misinterpretation of my juvenile attempts at capturing his interest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;As far as culinary school goes, I'm going for patisserie and baking, and I don't remember seeing meat-filled pastries in the curriculum; therefore, I will not be making torta rustica, and you would either have to go hungry or risk becoming diabetic after eating my sugary assignments each night. Going along with that, I think jokes are highly overrated. If you bought me tickets to see Justin Nozuka and he asked me to dance on stage with him, I'm pretty sure that would lead him to eventually propose to me, too. I would accept, and we would all have to move to Utah for that to work out. Utah is a little too cold for my taste, so I would end up leaving you pretty quickly and running away with Justin. Maybe we would even run away to Brazil, just for the sheer irony of it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;When it comes to jewelry, I prefer turquoise. Everyone knows mac &amp;amp; cheese is not, nor will it ever be, turquoise. I know it's been said that if you like it you should put a ring on it, but what isn't often mentioned is that you can't put the ring on it if she doesn't like it. Make sense?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;So even though I think your little plan is clever, I just don't think it's going to work out. It's so nice to know that no man will ever truly love me; Disney ruined that truth for me when I was little, and I guess the Bible lied to me as well. Thank you for your honesty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;And I hear our niece, Emerson, is still on the market. She's two, so you might have to work on potty-training her and teaching her not to eat her mac &amp;amp; cheese ring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;(Not) sincerely,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;Logan Baker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="gigaboxx_thread_header_authors" style="display: block; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(85, 85, 85); padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;span class="GBThreadMessageRow_Date" style="color: rgb(119, 119, 119);  margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;P.S. you're kind of weird&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;/div&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/2289421156496186814-3800572908641076434?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/3800572908641076434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/11/proposal.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3800572908641076434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3800572908641076434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/11/proposal.html' title='A proposal.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-2469804150666593165</id><published>2009-10-29T22:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T22:30:05.975-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mustache resurfaces...in an unusual way.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;If you remember my blog about THE MUSTACHE (you know what I'm talking about) my friend Merridith and I spotted at Octane, you'll be thrilled to know that it has been spotted again...in a whole new fashion.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's on the cover of the new issue of &lt;a href="http://atlanta.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/the_straight_guide_to_pride/Content?oid=1148729"&gt;Atlanta's Creative Loafing&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently the Mustache's slave-man is known for roller-blading around Atlanta while sporting a tutu.  While he's not wearing a tutu in the picture, I must admire his boldness in rocking the jorts (jean shorts).  He's taken them to new heights.  My mind is literally going in a hundred different directions right now--I literally just found out about this--so I will leave you with a picture of the Mighty 'Stache.  In case you're blind and can't guess, it's on the far right...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 382px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SupPhYkUg6I/AAAAAAAAAJs/MNTDwtaVYaU/s400/cover-inside.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398214538306028450" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-2469804150666593165?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/2469804150666593165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/mustache-resurfacesin-unusual-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2469804150666593165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2469804150666593165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/mustache-resurfacesin-unusual-way.html' title='The Mustache resurfaces...in an unusual way.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SupPhYkUg6I/AAAAAAAAAJs/MNTDwtaVYaU/s72-c/cover-inside.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-8768762927027208531</id><published>2009-10-13T22:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T22:54:03.557-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a jerk.</title><content type='html'>A month or two ago, a friend of mine told me a story about how he was driving to a friend's house when he came upon a car that had run off the road.  He, along with another car full of non-English speaking friends, helped the driver push the stranded car out of the ditch it was in and made sure the car was working.  I was pretty pumped to hear this story of selflessness, especially because it involved a language of love more than it did verbal communication, and since then I've asked God to give me opportunities to show His love to others in a similar way.  I asked Him to lead me outside my comfort zone and to continue to humble me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was driving to church last night for our college ministry's weekly shindig, and I was running a little late.  It was raining, and traffic was worse than usual because the storms had blown out the lights at a major intersection on the way to church.  As I turned onto a new road, I realized the lady in front of me was stopped even though there was nobody ahead of her...or so I thought.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A guy had pulled onto our side of the road (for a reason I don't know) and his car was dead.  He was desperately trying to push it out of the way of the lady in front of me, but he wasn't finding much success on his own.  I sat in my car for a minute, watching him and thinking, "&lt;i&gt;I should really help him&lt;/i&gt;."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lady in the car in front of me parked her car and began to help the guy push his car.  They were still having trouble.  Again, I thought, "&lt;i&gt;I should really help,&lt;/i&gt;" but I convinced myself that it was a bad idea because A) I was running late for church, and OBVIOUSLY God wouldn't want me to be late for church (yes, that sentence is dripping with sarcasm) and B) I was wearing a dress and heels, and I probably would've flashed dozens of innocent drivers watching the incident from the other lane.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, those were my excuses to myself.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kept hearing the Holy Spirit tell me to go, and I kept fighting back.  My flesh took over.  Anyone who knows me well knows that I can be quite persuasive, but I always know better than to try to persuade myself of anything.  I knew that my excuses were, pardon my French, total bull.  A) Had I helped, I wouldn't have ended up sitting in traffic for as long as I did, thus actually getting me to church EARLY instead of late, and B) I knew my outfit was cute, and I didn't want to get wet or risk messing up my style for the evening.  That's right, I was being totally and completely selfish, proud, and vain.  Even in the midst of the whole situation, I was pretty disgusted with myself.  Instead of being a &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke%2010:25-37&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;Good Samaritan&lt;/a&gt;, I chose to be the priest.  I chose to acknowledge my Father with my mouth, but to ignore Him with my actions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The good news is that the woman and man were able to safely push the car out of the way, and we all got along with the rest of our evenings.  Some more good news is that I learned more than I could imagine from this ten minute ordeal, and I know I don't ever again want to feel like I did after being such a jerk.  More good news--I know God will give me (and you) other opportunities to make His glory known to our neighbors through simple acts of love and service.  Love God.  Love others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Try it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-8768762927027208531?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/8768762927027208531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-jerk.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8768762927027208531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8768762927027208531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-jerk.html' title='I&apos;m a jerk.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-8072538947635734838</id><published>2009-10-09T08:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T09:03:19.673-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maw-wage...maw-wage is what bwings us togeva today.</title><content type='html'>Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I'm not overly keen on weddings.  I love the concept of them, but I usually feel like they become too much of a spectacle.  Most couples tend to spend more money and time planning that one day than they do investing in their relationship.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, however, I was proud to be a part of a wedding that I've been eagerly awaiting for over three years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right, I'm talking about Jim and Pam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; If you don't watch "The Office" you might as well stop reading right now.  If you are a fan of the show, then I'm pretty sure you'll agree that Jim and Pam's wedding surpassed most any expectations held.  From Jim's toast to the copy of the infamous "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0"&gt;Forever" dance&lt;/a&gt; down the aisle to the elopement on the ferry, the show was absolutely brilliant.  I was just glad to see that America's favorite fictional couple looked past the chaos that typically surrounds weddings and took their exchanging of vows back to a simpler, sweeter place.  They did me proud.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know if it's a good thing to admit, but I think I might have been more emotionally involved in this wedding than I have been in about 80% of those that I've attended in the past couple of years.  Don't judge me, though...you know you feel the same way.&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/2289421156496186814-8072538947635734838?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/8072538947635734838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/maw-wagemaw-wage-is-what-bwings-us.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8072538947635734838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8072538947635734838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/maw-wagemaw-wage-is-what-bwings-us.html' title='Maw-wage...maw-wage is what bwings us togeva today.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-4781023802809036056</id><published>2009-10-04T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T19:15:51.998-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel just like a Child.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Julia, that is.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, I feel more like Duff Goldman of "Ace of Cakes" fame, but "I feel just like a Goldman" didn't have the right ring to it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my previous post I mentioned that I went to Emerson's rockin' birthday party yesterday.  What I didn't mention was what I was doing from 1:30 A.M. until 6:30 A.M. the morning of her party...I was making a birthday cake for Nimsy that was pretty flipping sweet (literally).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't start making the cake until 1:30 the morning of the party, and I have a very good excuse for my procrastination.  I wanted the cake to be fresh, but I was busy all day Friday.  I would have made it Friday night, but I was at The Dead Weather's concert.  The Dead Weather is Jack White's new band, and they are pretty amazing; not only are they all incredibly talented musicians, they are also ridiculously witty.  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=INitu4Jfyls"&gt;Check it out&lt;/a&gt;.  The show ended around 10:30, but my brother and I hung around because we wanted to meet Jack.  We did, he high-fived us, and I swear my fingertips tingled and he transferred a little bit of talent into my E.T. hands (if you don't understand that reference, just look at my hands.  Really, my fingers are ridiculously long).  That being said, I didn't get home until just after 1:00 A.M.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I commenced to baking.  And cooling.  And carving.  And icing.  And cooling some more.  And rolling.  And covering the cakes with fondant.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You would think I would be tired at this point, but I had chugged a big energy drink (which I normally despise) after the concert, and that sucker worked its magic on my body.  By the time I finally went to bed for a two-hour cat nap, my parents were already done drinking their morning cups of coffee.  As crazy as my night was, it was totally worth it to surprise my favorite little buddy for her birthday.  She loved the cake, and, more importantly, little Ms. Manners said, "Tankt too.  Iii uvv you...sooo much, Lolie." (Translation:  "Thank you.  I love you...so much, Lolie.")  She's just so precious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here it is:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The cake  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsksBTCh5MI/AAAAAAAAAJc/65OKywtByRQ/s400/DSC_0004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388886829927883970" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me and the birthday girl doing her "1, 2, 3, Cheese" pose (note the icing all over her face)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsksBg5G7nI/AAAAAAAAAJk/elI1MjqHWeI/s1600-h/10416_1218579355305_1553520020_30599387_271738_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsksBg5G7nI/AAAAAAAAAJk/elI1MjqHWeI/s1600-h/10416_1218579355305_1553520020_30599387_271738_n.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsksBg5G7nI/AAAAAAAAAJk/elI1MjqHWeI/s400/10416_1218579355305_1553520020_30599387_271738_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388886833646464626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-4781023802809036056?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/4781023802809036056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-feel-just-like-child.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4781023802809036056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4781023802809036056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-feel-just-like-child.html' title='I feel just like a Child.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsksBTCh5MI/AAAAAAAAAJc/65OKywtByRQ/s72-c/DSC_0004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-6963006267205100442</id><published>2009-10-04T18:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T19:16:21.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let them eat cake.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is the week for birthdays in the Baker family. Yesterday we celebrated Emerson's 2nd birthday (which isn't really until the 9th) with the craziest party ever to go down in the ATL. We ate, we chilled with her posse--whose collective age is still younger than mine--and their entourage (also known as parents), and we played on a moon bounce. I know you're jealous, but don't hate.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is Shelby's 15th birthday. If you don't know Shelby, A) you should...she's awesome, and B) she's my golden retriever. I think I can speak on behalf of everyone in my family when I say that we aren't really surprised that ol' Shelby has made it to the ripe age of 15 or, for those of you that are mathematically challenged, 105 in dog years. The dog is invincible. Really. In her life, she has survived almost anything that would normally kill a dog. Shelby has been quite obese for most of her life, she's had hip dysplasia for as long as I can remember, she was attacked by our neighbor's dog, she was run over by the newspaper boy, she almost chewed off her own tail, she has/had more tumors than I can count, and she's half blind and mostly deaf. The vet told us five years ago around this time of the year that Shelby was going to go to doggy heaven soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 years ago. The running joke in our family has become, "Say goodbye to Shelby...it's her last Christmas," since my mom said that to us after the doctor gave her the ill-fated news of our poor dog. While I love my little energizer bunny--I mean, she's been my constant buddy since I was 5--I do believe that this will be her last Christmas. She's had a good run, and I am grateful that God has kept her around for so long. Here's a little something for the road...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsknJx-1RGI/AAAAAAAAAJM/G6JyJCvsE0o/s400/IMG_0024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388881478114690146" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsknKQiv5_I/AAAAAAAAAJU/YV8A_Ha9Fmc/s1600-h/DSC_0005.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsknKQiv5_I/AAAAAAAAAJU/YV8A_Ha9Fmc/s1600-h/DSC_0005.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsknKQiv5_I/AAAAAAAAAJU/YV8A_Ha9Fmc/s400/DSC_0005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388881486318397426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-6963006267205100442?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/6963006267205100442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/let-them-eat-cake.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6963006267205100442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6963006267205100442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/10/let-them-eat-cake.html' title='Let them eat cake.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SsknJx-1RGI/AAAAAAAAAJM/G6JyJCvsE0o/s72-c/IMG_0024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-3719764942179162448</id><published>2009-09-16T22:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T22:30:24.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I mustache you a question.</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting at Octane, a local coffeehouse, with my friend Merridith, and we have just fallen in love.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With a mustache.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The man that goes along with the mustache...eh...not so much.  But the 'stache itself is a work of art.  Think Yosemite Sam but black as a raven and a bit curlier.  The mustache is singing right now.  We are enthralled by its glorious sound.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If we could take a picture of this misplaced eyebrow, we would.  Alas, there is no way to do so discreetly.  You'll just have to envision this piece of beauty with that clever little imagination of yours.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only reason we are writing this right now is because we wanted to make a Missed Connection on Craigslist, but we were too scared to enter such a public forum; the mustache is so worthy of recognition, though, that we couldn't allow it to go completely unacknowledged, so we figured my under-the-radar blog would be a perfect place to rave about the powers of the upper lip plumage.  Just to give you an idea of how commanding this 'stache is, our eyes have barely even noticed the pink octopus shirt the 'stache's slave (man) is wearing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We will never be the same thanks to this experience.  May the 'stache be with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merr T. and Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-3719764942179162448?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/3719764942179162448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-mustache-you-question.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3719764942179162448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3719764942179162448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-mustache-you-question.html' title='I mustache you a question.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-7254899512378666670</id><published>2009-09-15T21:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T21:57:20.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Three little words.</title><content type='html'>I recently (and by "recently" i mean about five minutes ago) decided to conduct my own sort of social experiment.  I've always hoped to present myself in the truest way possible to everyone I meet since, let's be honest, nobody likes fake people.  It's interesting to think about whether or not I give the same impression to lots of different people, whether or not their perceptions are similar...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I sent out a mass-text to friends and asked them to describe me with three words.  While I'm not going to write them out, I'll have you know that the only word used more than once was "witty" and that was probably just my friends' clever thinking as a way to get the hook-up for their next haircuts...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That being said, it can be the eye-opening experience to find the very core of your being summed up with three little words.  I highly recommend checking with your close friends to see what parts of your personality stand out to them and measuring them up to your own self-analysis.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think my favorite was from my friend Lauren who took a different approach with her three choice words: "Full of life."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll take it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cheers to constant growth and to a full life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-7254899512378666670?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/7254899512378666670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/09/three-little-words.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7254899512378666670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7254899512378666670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/09/three-little-words.html' title='Three little words.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-2809436771519835937</id><published>2009-09-06T20:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T21:22:49.165-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oui, je parle Français.</title><content type='html'>I'm going to live in France one day.  I feel it in the depths of my soul.  It's a funny thing to know since I've never actually been to France, but I think it's just one of those things that I've always kind of known.  I don't think God gave me a fascination with all things French for no reason...He has plans for me there. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quoi, tu me demandes?  Je ne sais pas.  Maybe it will be for a job once I finish at Le Cordon Bleu - Atlanta; maybe it will be for the cultural experience; maybe it will be for missions work (people tend to forget that just because France is a wealthy and successful country it does not mean the citizens are spiritually rich).  I'm guessing it will be a cumulation of the three.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But until I go, I will have to continue to satisfy my desire to live La Vie En Rose through a continued exploration of the country's language, films, music, and, my favorite, the foods (parce que je suis une gourmande).  Here are a few of my favorites in case you want to check them out:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  Crêpes.  For apparent reasons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Amelie&lt;/span&gt; -- one of my favorite movies in the world.  If I could choose to be a character in any movie for one day, I would be either Amelie Poulain or Edward Bloom in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Big Fish&lt;/span&gt; (but for the sake of this post I'll go with Amelie).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  "Tout Doucement" by Feist.  Okay, so Leslie Feist is Canadian, but the song is in French....and it's just so happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Paris, Je T'aime&lt;/span&gt; -- a wonderful collection of 18 short films, one for each of the arrondissements of Paris, made by some obscure and some well-known directors.  A very unique film.  On a side note, an American version called &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;New York, I Love You&lt;/span&gt; is going to be released soon...I hope it captures the same diverse moods and unique perspectives of another beautiful city as the original does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  Edith Piaf.  Love her or hate her, she's a legend.  Plus, her music is very fun to listen to while cooking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6.  The pastries.  I will definitely continue to indulge in these little bites of heaven (specifically from a local French restaurant, Doucer De France) until I'm six feet under.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.  I'll end with lucky number 7.  I'm currently reading "My Life in France" by Julia Child, and it's really what prompted this whole post.  I think my inner-Julia is dying to escape soon and roam free around the streets of the City of Lights.  I'm really enjoying this book, and I recommend it to anyone that likes to eat, to live life to its fullest, or to do both simultaneously.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, that about wraps things up...In the words of Mrs. Child, "Bon appètit!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-2809436771519835937?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/2809436771519835937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/09/oui-je-parle-francais.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2809436771519835937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2809436771519835937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/09/oui-je-parle-francais.html' title='Oui, je parle Français.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-2012674289066890495</id><published>2009-08-27T21:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T22:11:44.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If I were a boy...</title><content type='html'>While I'm not a huge Beyoncé fan (aside from memorizing the "Single Ladies" dance), I couldn't help but use her song title for this post.  I just got home from seeing "The Time Traveler's Wife" with a (male) friend of mine, and I've come to realize that based on how little I enjoyed both this film and "The Notebook"--which, according to most people I've surveyed, is the best chick flick of all time--there must be something wrong with me.  I've narrowed it down to the following possibilities:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  I was born a man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;***I've read "Middlesex" and taken enough biology classes to know that the odds of this being the truth are about one in eight-point-three billion.  Still, I have to throw it out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  I am a cynical, heartless person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;***Again, this is highly unlikely if based on self-analysis, although a few of my close friends might say otherwise; they really just wish I would cry more.  I don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  I am afraid to fall in love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;***I guard my heart, but I would LOVE to fall in love.  I just want it to be the right person instead of giving a part of myself away to someone that won't be a part of my future.  So I'm doubting that this is the answer....  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  Other people are stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;***Most of the girls that tell me "The Notebook" is their favorite movie have completely unrealistic expectations of romantic relationships.  In fact, I think a lot of them broke up with their boyfriends after reading "Twilight" because they don't think their men could compare with Edward.  Enough said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  My breed is slowly becoming extinct.  The breed that thinks it's a man's job to pursue a woman.  Hardcore.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;***Along with possibility 4, I think this is the solution.  As a young woman in a society that is growing to accept and encourage the idea that it's a good thing for a girl to be forward with a guy, I find it mind-boggling to see how many of my female peers believe that it's healthy to romantically pursue a man.  Sure, he might enjoy the attention for a little while, and he might even think he likes the girl back; most of my guy friends that have been involved in relationships where girls pursued them said the fun quickly wore off when they realized that they didn't like the girls that much.  For them, it was more of the idea of being desired that attracted them to the girls.  I think every guy I've talked to about this has said something along the lines of, "I liked the attention, not the girl...if I would've liked the girl, I would've gone after her first."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ladies, beware!  Don't get caught up in the illusion (I really want to make an Arrested Development reference right now, but I'll refrain) of being the world's definition of a "strong, independent woman."  A true strong and independent woman doesn't need to pursue a man because she finds her worth in God alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So pardon me for the rant, but I'm tired of seeing my smart friends sell themselves short when it comes to relationships.  I'm tired of seeing movies that make love and sex synonymous.  I'm tired of hearing complaints about being led on by so-and-so--let's face it, he's just not that into you.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm done.  I had to get that out before my brain exploded.  Now I'm free to move on and try to love without expecting anything in return.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-2012674289066890495?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/2012674289066890495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-i-were-boy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2012674289066890495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2012674289066890495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/08/if-i-were-boy.html' title='If I were a boy...'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-3311234473676556289</id><published>2009-08-14T18:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T18:54:50.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence is golden.</title><content type='html'>"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.  The tongue of the righteous is choice silver, but the heart of the wicked is of little value.  The lips of the righteous nourish many, but fools die for lack of judgment." -- Proverbs 10:19-21&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being from the South, I've grown up in a culture where gossip is more prevalent than Trekkies at ComicCon; put two Southern women together and the incessant chatter will begin.  I hate it, yet far too often I find myself caught up in a conversation that just isn't particularly edifying to others or to God.  It's something that God has really been working on in my heart, and I feel like it's finally starting to get easier to be wise with my words.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it's clichè to say that if you don't have anything nice to say then you shouldn't say anything at all, but it's the truth.  Our words are purely the overflow of our hearts, so if we're spewing out words that tear others down or that simply don't give glory to our Lord, then we probably need to ask God what is wrong in our hearts.  What lie are we believing about Him enough to make us speak sinful words?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here's a challenge:  think before you speak.  It's a simple concept, but it's a hard one to consistently act upon.  Don't talk just for the sake of talking...silence doesn't have to be awkward.  If you're talking to someone and they start gossiping or speaking foolishly, ask them not to.  Don't be snooty about it, but stand firm in the name of the Lord as you seek wisdom.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have failed, I am failing, and I will fail again, but there is hope for the future.  As we shift our way of communicating, we will set examples of how to speak in love and hopefully create a better home environment, a better community, and a better world, a world that honors God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Think about it...then maybe speak about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(74, 68, 14); font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; "&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 100.01%; line-height: 1.6em; margin-top: 17px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 17px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-3311234473676556289?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/3311234473676556289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/08/silence-is-golden.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3311234473676556289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3311234473676556289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/08/silence-is-golden.html' title='Silence is golden.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-2459680050940983412</id><published>2009-08-02T09:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T10:24:41.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;In spite of human failures, God still moved in the hearts of the Rakvere students this week.  He also worked wonders in the lives of our team, the North Point team, and the Rakvere team.  While I would (not) love to go into detail about the many challenges we faced this week, I think I'll save the stories for personal conversations...it would just be too hard to write out everything that happened, and I'm pretty sure I might lose it if I have to think about it any more today.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that being said, I am SO glad to have finished my last camp.  I'm absolutely exhausted, and I'm looking forward to a good night's rest.  We leave for intern debriefing tomorrow, and we'll finish it on Thursday.  After that, we chill in Tartu until early afternoon on Friday, then we head back to Tallinn for our last day together before Brett and I fly out on Saturday.  This summer has been absolutely crazy, and it's been a beautiful thing to experience God in such a new way.  Really, my time here has been amazing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SPEAKING OF AMAZING...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was in Tallinn today with the interns and the GC&amp;amp;SU team that served at Brett's camp, and while we were there we wandered into the square in Old Towne.  I heard one of the guys say, "They're filming something over there...wait, isn't that the guy from 'The Amazing Race?'"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My head whipped around to where they were pointing, and I yelled out "Phil!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, it was in fact Phil Keoghan, host of "The Amazing Race," filming a segment for what I guess was the Estonian leg of my favorite reality show EVER.  I almost peed myself.  I'm not even ashamed to admit it.  It was incredible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The craziest part about it is that my mom and I had just had a full conversation about the show on Wednesday when we were talking on Skype.  We've been talking about applying for the show for awhile now, but we have to wait until I'm 21 so I'll be eligible to race.  We explained our full strategy to Chris the other night...when we're one the show, we will be the crazy Christian women that praise Jesus and throw our competitors under the bus.  We will annihilate the competition.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really, I just took the moment as a sign from God that I am definitely supposed to be on the show.  Then my beloved Phil and I will be reunited, and I won't have to worry about the production people coming up to me and asking me not to yell at him and to avoid standing in the back of the frame and staring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SnWX15d95HI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GWzg6Us8sY4/s400/phil-keoghan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365361483297186930" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I guess I just have to wait patiently for July 21, 2010.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This will probably be my last blog from Estonia.  Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all of your support this summer...I didn't get sick ONCE, and a revolution of True Love is spreading across this nation thanks to your prayers and support.  I love you and will see you in about a week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-2459680050940983412?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/2459680050940983412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/08/amazing.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2459680050940983412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2459680050940983412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/08/amazing.html' title='Amazing.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SnWX15d95HI/AAAAAAAAAIM/GWzg6Us8sY4/s72-c/phil-keoghan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-6008666958047036020</id><published>2009-07-27T15:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T15:53:31.527-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here it is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sm4E9A1sjKI/AAAAAAAAAIE/VIaRPm7Oso0/s1600-h/naljakah+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sm4E9A1sjKI/AAAAAAAAAIE/VIaRPm7Oso0/s400/naljakah+022.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363229652488588450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Finally, a picture of the new tatt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's really not very big, but it looks bigger because the picture is zoomed in so much.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, and a bunch of the Americans have been sick over the past few days, so please keep praying that they will stay healthy and rested for the remainder of our time at camp.  Also, please pray for the rest of us...camp is going really well so far, but I think we're just a little tired and not ready to deal with some of the stupid stuff we've been dealing with.  That's about it--I'm tired, so I'm going to bed.  Thanks.  Goodnight and Godspeed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/2289421156496186814-6008666958047036020?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/6008666958047036020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/here-it-is.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6008666958047036020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6008666958047036020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/here-it-is.html' title='Here it is...'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sm4E9A1sjKI/AAAAAAAAAIE/VIaRPm7Oso0/s72-c/naljakah+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-7508120339461650400</id><published>2009-07-25T10:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T11:36:26.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taste past the tip of your tongue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmsmXCzCXbI/AAAAAAAAAH8/19wZDStaf1g/s1600-h/DSCN4350.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmsmXCzCXbI/AAAAAAAAAH8/19wZDStaf1g/s400/DSCN4350.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362421958644489650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Wake up everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;How can you sleep at a time like this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Unless the dreamer is the real you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Listen to your voice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The one that tells you to taste past the tip of your tongue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Leap and the net will appear"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Jason Mraz, "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rrBoZzD9LHI"&gt;Make It Mine&lt;/a&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Unless you live under a rock, you probably know that I am a huge fan of Jason Mraz.  I think he is one of the most naturally talented musicians around, and he is a brilliant lyricist..  He writes a lot about love, and not just about romantic love but about philanthropy, too.  His music always puts me in a happy mood (even if I'm not listening to one of his oh-so-catchy summery tunes), and I've been listening to him a lot lately.  I find something new in each of his songs every time I listen, and the above excerpt from "Make It Mine" really jumped out at me recently.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The world is so full of beauty, but for some reason we tend to look past it and to maintain a "grass is greener" philosophy about life.  Instead of stumbling through life, finding it merely mediocre, I'm trying to live with eyes wide open, observing all the beauty on this earth.  It's easy to get jaded (I know I have far too often) and to forget to appreciate the little things, but I'm working on breaking down the unappreciative shell I tend to build up around my brain.  I'm grateful for all the blessings, big and small, that God has given me.  I like to dream; I want to do big things; I want to (as I wrote about not long ago) seize the day.  I'm tasting past the tip of my tongue, and it's a great feeling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm not sure where all this is coming from; I'm thinking it's stemming from having a new team of Americans here.  They're from Atlanta (NPCC, actually), and it's completely bizarre to have people from home around me again.  I miss my family and friends and everything, but I really, REALLY don't miss life in the metro-Atlanta area (actually, whenever we listen to the song "Disturbia" I change the lyrics to "suburbia").  The team is cool and everything, but it just feels like they're from a different world than me.  I'm coming home in two weeks, and it's the strangest feeling to know I'm going back to the comfortable life; I'm excited to start school in January, but I'm really not particularly keen on the idea of being in East Cobb for another year or so.  I'm just being honest.  I didn't really like it before I came here, and I doubt I'll like it when I get back.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But I'm going to try to appreciate the beauty of the next year as I see it, and I'm going to try my hardest to make the most of the time I have once I get back home.  It won't be easy, but I'm going to trust that God has me there for a reason, even if it's not a reason that I like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That being said, please pray for our final camps, as they start tomorrow.  Kati, Ev, Chris, and I are working with the NPCC team and the youth from the town of Rakvere, and we'll be heading back to Pala for this camp.  Ask God to keep us safe, humble, and united throughout this week.  I think this week is going to be as much a growing experience for the students from North Point as it is for the students from Rakvere, so ask God to move in everyone's hearts as the week progresses.  Brett and Innar are doing another camp at the same time as ours, so please keep them in your prayers, too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Please be praying for me as the end of my trip approaches; it's going to be very hard to leave my friends here, and I want to have a good attitude about returning home.  I also need rest, so please pray for that and for energy for me (and for the rest of the team) as I participate in my final camp.  I'm really excited for this week, and I can't wait to tell you more about it as camp progresses.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, I guess that's really all I have to say.  I'm going to take a little nap and continue listening to Mr. A-Z.  Oh, wait, that reminds me.  He is going to be doing a concert in Atlanta in two days and I'm very, very sad that I won't be there.  If you can, buy a ticket and go to the show.  It's worth it.  I promise you.  Okay...bye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-7508120339461650400?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/7508120339461650400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/taste-past-tip-of-your-tongue.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7508120339461650400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7508120339461650400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/taste-past-tip-of-your-tongue.html' title='Taste past the tip of your tongue'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmsmXCzCXbI/AAAAAAAAAH8/19wZDStaf1g/s72-c/DSCN4350.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-3744746139563445353</id><published>2009-07-21T08:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T09:03:48.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsau.</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-1186ef5576326643" 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://v22.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D1186ef5576326643%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331143691%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3F8743087F478D5B78CFE6F6181E3B0098AD149.DAA648092E93AB229D65BF142EFD50FF5DAC1F7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1186ef5576326643%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQSNV1_DLVpQp4Sh-ji25FVezgf4&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://v22.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D1186ef5576326643%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331143691%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3F8743087F478D5B78CFE6F6181E3B0098AD149.DAA648092E93AB229D65BF142EFD50FF5DAC1F7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1186ef5576326643%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQSNV1_DLVpQp4Sh-ji25FVezgf4&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/2289421156496186814-3744746139563445353?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=1186ef5576326643&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/3744746139563445353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/tsau.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3744746139563445353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3744746139563445353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/tsau.html' title='Tsau.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-5355207077888067875</id><published>2009-07-18T03:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T04:10:56.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I left my heart in...</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmF7yA_DiXI/AAAAAAAAAHU/nrQm1HjMme0/s400/DSC_0093.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359701130735749490" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kohila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I have officially finished my second camp.  It was challenging, hot, mosquito-infested, interesting, fun, and probably the most wonderful weeks of my life.  Our Kohila English camp was completely different than the first ones in Pala and Sihva; A) we were at a location that was brand new to us, B) the location was mostly outdoors, so the bugs were AWFUL, C) it was the first EC ever done with the youth from Kohila, D) it was the only camp where all the interns could be together, and E) I was leading a small group.  There were plenty of other differences, too, but I think it's just best to say that I can't really compare my two camp experiences because they've been so different.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I can say that I have never connected with a group of students the way I did with the ones this week.  Almost all were non-believers, so it was very challenging to present the story of God in a way that would be appealing to them; also, some of the kids' English wasn't very strong, so the communication barrier was a bit more challenging than at the first camp.  That didn't stop God from moving in the kids' hearts (of course), but it did force us to get creative with our small group times.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a picture of my small group; from left to right it's Grete (my Estonian co-leader), Mari-liis, Mall, Abigail (our speaker's 9-year-old daughter), Kristel, Martha, and me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmF7zG_L16I/AAAAAAAAAHs/n7dDZsSzX-M/s400/DSC_0073.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359701149526775714" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I loved getting to know these girls; they are so sweet, and it was so cool to see them open up throughout the week.  It was so great to be able to talk with them about God, and at the end of the week Mari-liis and Mall accepted Christ (I'm getting chills just writing about it).  My heart was bursting with love for them when we left Kohila yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I absolutely loved the goofy boys here; their average age was 15, and they were over-the-top ridiculous.  I think they enjoyed having a girl around that was willing to do, well, pretty much anything they challenged me to do.  On our last night at camp when they all went to sauna, I was talking to my mom on Skype when a bunch of boys ran into our meeting room, covered in mud.  They had jumped into the lake and rubbed mud all over their bodies after sauna, and they wanted to come scare off the girls in the meeting room.  As I talked with Mumsy, they came over and started to wipe mud on my face (and to introduce themselves to my mom, of course), hoping that I would want to retaliate.  I didn't, so they ran back outside.  A few minutes later, once I was done Skyping, they ran back in with a few new recruits.  All the girls in the room were screaming, and I was just laughing; as they started to run out, I made the mistake of saying, "But I wanted a hug!"  One of the leaders (who I had also worked with in Pala), Kuldar, ran back and gave me a huge hug.  All the other boys saw him, and the following picture is a glimpse of the chaos that ensued. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmF7ymx_pPI/AAAAAAAAAHc/lGFF-h302ls/s400/DSC_0010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359701140881515762" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmF7y4iMIuI/AAAAAAAAAHk/G1DgZ18Wufc/s400/DSC_0011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359701145647063778" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was crazy, disgusting fun, and that's why I love these boys.  They keep me young at my ripe old age of 20 (in three days).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I have to introduce my new buddies, Risto and Robert.  They are like my brothers from other mothers.  I met these two our first night when I sat down at a table and started talking to Robert.  Honestly, I thought I wasn't going to like the kid (I told him that afterwards) because he seemed like the type that thought he was too cool for school.  As soon as we started talking he changed my mind; he is crazy, and I love it.  Risto came over to talk with us a few minutes after I met Robert, and I quickly decided that I loved him because he's really reserved (and I love nothing more than forcing people to come out of their shells).  The two of them are on an extreme sports team in Kohila, and they're so good at what they do--Robert is a BMXer and Risto is a rollerblader--that they have sponsors and all that jazz.  Words can't describe how much I love these guys.  They're fantastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmF7zkT643I/AAAAAAAAAH0/RZUGp9i1GL0/s400/DSC_0127.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359701157398373234" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I think the real way for you to understand what I mean when I say that I left my heart in Kohila would be for me to tell you what happened yesterday at our after-party.  We spent the afternoon back at a park in Kohila, chilling and grilling with the students.  When the time rolled around for us to head back to Tartu, the goodbyes began.  It was so hard to say goodbye to everyone (one boy that loved me a little too much hugged me at least 8 times), and it was almost surreal to think that I wasn't going to be seeing these kids every day anymore.  We hugged, laughed, talked about being facebook friends, and climbed into our cars.  Brett, Kati, Evelin, Maggie Younker (a friend from Atlanta that is taking a weekend off from studying abroad in Oxford to visit us), another teammate, Daniel, and I were all riding back to the church to pick up our stuff and go home.  As we headed toward the park's exit, a line of students stepped in front of the cars to block our path.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Evelin and I looked at each other and we both started crying.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't cry very often.  I cried multiple times yesterday.  These kids are incredible, and they've touched me in a way that I can't yet grasp.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thank you for your prayers this week...please continue to pray that God's love will be evident to the youth of Kohila, and pray for Joel and Veronika, the Kohila youth leaders.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm now going to hang out with friends before we have a big birthday shindig for Kati (hers was the 16th) and me.  Woohoo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-5355207077888067875?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/5355207077888067875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-left-my-heart-in.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/5355207077888067875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/5355207077888067875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-left-my-heart-in.html' title='I left my heart in...'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SmF7yA_DiXI/AAAAAAAAAHU/nrQm1HjMme0/s72-c/DSC_0093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-8290326259064416882</id><published>2009-07-11T08:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T09:21:48.065-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rockstars love me.</title><content type='html'>So yesterday our team went to a big grocery store on the outer edge of Tallinn, and while we were there Evelin and I took a detour to run to the W.C.  As we were walking, I put my sunglasses on and said, "I'm going to wear these inside so people will think I'm famous."  Right after I said that, a group of a few guys walked past us--all wearing sunglasses--and stared at us (I was wearing my red lipstick, and they're not used to seeing that kind of thing in Estonia).  As we walked into the bathroom, Ev started laughing and said, "That was pretty much the most famous band in Estonia."  I didn't understand what she meant, and she explained that the group of guys that had stared at us were the members of a rock band called &lt;a href="http://www.traffic.ee/new/?"&gt;Traffic&lt;/a&gt;.  Ev said she used to have a crush on the lead singer.  I laughed because they looked ridiculous when we saw them.  She wanted to walk around the store and try to find them while our teammates shopped.  It didn't take long to find them...or, should I say, for THEM to find US.  Ev and I were discussing what color the towel I was buying actually was (it was blue, not purple like she thought) when the guys walked buy and one of them threw his shopping basket down on the floor by us.  We turned around and they all tried to act really cool and like they weren't trying to get our attention, but then they kept following us around to different areas of the store.  They never actually talked to us (guys are very different here than in the States), but they just stood close enough to realize that I was an American and wouldn't know who they were (or so they thought).  We ended up leaving, and Ev just showed me the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adZoTF2exVI"&gt;music video&lt;/a&gt; for their biggest hit, a song that makes fun of Latvia...so I'll leave you with this lovely glimpse of a love affair that just was never meant to be.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SliRPSk_vhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_jBtJvkBfU4/s400/71935972247f5f6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357191448628280850" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 312px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SliRPzmDfrI/AAAAAAAAAHM/XWDPjrEEjMU/s400/DSC_0032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357191457491091122" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Too bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-8290326259064416882?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/8290326259064416882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/rockstars-love-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8290326259064416882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8290326259064416882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/rockstars-love-me.html' title='Rockstars love me.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SliRPSk_vhI/AAAAAAAAAHE/_jBtJvkBfU4/s72-c/71935972247f5f6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-7472095513256769916</id><published>2009-07-09T15:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T16:31:27.237-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry, Charlie (Row).</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Charles Row, Jr., don't read this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Just kidding, but now I can say I gave fair warning to my granddaddy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I ended my last post with "carpe diem," a favorite saying of mine (thank you, Horace, Robin Williams, or--and this is the real one--Erwin McManus), meaning "seize the day."  At the beginning of the year, the lovely Holly Tant recommended the book "Chasing Daylight" (McManus) to me; I read it, and found myself challenged by the basic idea presented by the book.  Seize the day.  Seize the moment.  Don't be complacent.  It's about more than just being proactive or any of that "7 Habits for Highly Effective blah blah blah" stuff; it's about looking at how Jesus lived and trying to live with the same determination and zeal for life.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;At the time when I was reading the book, I was not having the most fun with life.  It seemed like things were going right for all of my friends, and I couldn't understand why God was forgetting about me.  I was spending time in the Word.  I was praying.  I was waiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And waiting.  And waiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;But sometimes waiting isn't always a good thing.  I was waiting for God to give me an answer about my future without really pursuing any leads that He needed to confirm or reject for me.  I was comfortable (but at the same time uncomfortable with being comfortable) and stagnant.  "Chasing Daylight" helped me realized that sometimes I just need to grab the bull by the horns and trust that God will show me where to go from there.  I needed to live with the same urgency that Jesus did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I began to try to seize the day.  Sure, I have my lazy days, but I can honestly say that my outlook on life has changed completely in the past seven months.  It's so clichè to say "live every day as your last," but it really is a great way to live.  I've learned to appreciate the small things, to treasure my relationships, and to try to be an open vessel of God's love because it may be the last time I'll ever be able to do so.  I'm seizing the day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;If you haven't seen "Dead Poets Society" I recommend you watch it right now.  Seriously, stop reading this, go get the movie, and watch it.  There are so many great lines in the movie, but my favorite is the first monologue of Professor John Keating, a character played brilliantly by Robin Williams, in which he addresses his class of teenage boys at a prestigious prep school and compares them to the school's alumni whose pictures they're admiring (wow, that was a long sentence):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;"They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day, boys.  Make your lives extraordinary. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My potential is endless (as is yours), so why not chase dreams and, like Henry David Thoreau said, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;live deep and suck out all the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;marrow of life," while I still can?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Now I'm actually at the part of this musing that this whole post is really about...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I got another tattoo today.  It is αδρ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;ά&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;ξει την ημ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;έ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;ρα which means "seize the day" in Greek.  I like Greek better than Latin, and it's a literal translation of "seize the day" whereas carpe diem is not.  I don't have any pictures of it right now, so I'll just describe it as being written in a vertical line down my spine, starting right below where a collar typically hits.  It's about seven cm long and probably less than half a cm wide.  I love it, and it's a permanent reminder to live passionately for the Lord and to live an extraordinary life.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Okay, well I leave for the next camp tomorrow morning and I don't think I'll have internet access while I'm there, so please continue to pray for God to work miracles in the lives of the students and the leaders.  We're going to be at a facility that has never been used for English camp before, so also be praying that we are fully prepared for the unknown.  I'll let you know how things go as soon as I can!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-7472095513256769916?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/7472095513256769916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/sorry-charlie-row.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7472095513256769916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7472095513256769916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/sorry-charlie-row.html' title='Sorry, Charlie (Row).'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-8929976054044234888</id><published>2009-07-08T15:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T16:45:28.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>GGGG</title><content type='html'>On the intern training retreat (it feels like it was forever ago) we learned about the Four G's, a set of basic principles about God.  The Four G's state that God is Great, Glorious, Good, and Gracious.  As we dove deeper into what each G means, we spent a lot of time focusing on whether or not we really believe that God is each of the things we were discussing.  Here's a bit more in-depth of a look at the Four G's.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is Great.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure He is.  We all know that, right?  Well as we look a bit deeper into this principle, we find that because God is great we don't need to be in control.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ouch.  That's a bit more difficult to swallow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think we all like to agree that God is great and in control and everything, but when it all boils down to it how much are we really trusting that this principle is true?  We can acknowledge it with our mouths, but are we actually placing our full trust in the Lord?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God has taught our team a LOT about this principle as the camps have progressed, and He's teaching me a lot about it individually as I work my way through Job.  Job was one tough cookie, but he still knew that God was in control, even when his Captain BuzzKill, Negative Nancy, and Debbie Downer friends were telling him otherwise.  I could talk about God's greatness for awhile, but I'll just end this G with a challenge for you:  when you or someone you are talking to is questioning a situation or trying to fix something that isn't going according to plan, try asking if they (or you) really believe that God is great.  It's a thought-provoking and humbling question.  Try it.  I dare you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next G.  God is Glorious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We sing worship songs about it.  We know He is &lt;a href="http://www.ibsstl.org/bible/verse/index.php?q=psalm+96%3A6&amp;amp;niv=yes&amp;amp;submit=Lookup"&gt;worthy&lt;/a&gt; of all our praise.  What we often forget is that because God is glorious (and we are not), we don't have to &lt;a href="http://www.ibsstl.org/bible/verse/index.php?q=proverbs+29%3A25&amp;amp;niv=yes&amp;amp;submit=Lookup"&gt;fear others&lt;/a&gt;.  God is the only one worthy of praise; Psalm 27:1 says, "The Lord is my light and my salvation--whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life--of whom shall I be afraid?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is teaching me more than I could imagine about His glory; He is giving me a spirit of freedom and teaching me to find my identity solely in Him.  As much as I love my friends and family, I don't find my worth in who they see me as.  I know who I am in the Lord, and I know that I will find security and value as long as I am seeking after Him.  Nobody is greater or more glorious than God, so I have nobody to fear except for God.  As long as I listen to Him I will not fear what others think of me.  I am &lt;a href="http://www.ibsstl.org/bible/verse/index.php?q=galatians+5%3A13&amp;amp;niv=yes&amp;amp;submit=Lookup"&gt;free&lt;/a&gt; in the Lord, free of fearing others and free to love.  It's wonderful, isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next up is Goodness.  God is Good, so we don't need to look elsewhere (you'll see as we progress that the G's all start to relate to each other).  At camp, one thing we repeat over and over to the students is that God is holy, meaning He is good, right, and perfect.  We talk about how when Adam and Eve sinned, doubt also entered the world.  We began to doubt that God doesn't want what's best for us.  The truth is that God wants us to find our fulfillment in Him, and in order to do that we have to acknowledge that we are powerless (meaning we have to acknowledge that He is Great) and that only God can satisfy our needs.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many people get stuck on this one because they have trouble recognizing that they truly need to be rescued.  It's easy to "accept Christ" and to continue to try to save ourselves.  That's what the world tells us to do.  In today's society, it's exceedingly more difficult to admit that we are helpless creatures.  But that is, in fact, what we are.  Helpless.  So why not go ahead and recognize that God is good, right, and perfect and allow Him to satisfy our needs like He so wants to?  Exactly, you're catching my drift now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last but not least, God is Gracious.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This one has wreaked a bit of havoc on all of our lives.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God is Gracious, so we don't have to prove ourselves (to others or to God).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the one that is so easy to confess with our lips then deny with our actions.  "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--not by works, so that no one can boast," (Ephesians 2:8-9).  I have heard that verse over and over from a very young age, yet I find myself trying to disprove it over and over again.  I may not do it consciously, but I've come to realize that I don't always accept grace.  I think it's because it's almost unfathomable to think that the perfect Lamb of God could be slain for me without me needing to give something in return.  I mean, I've been raised in the South, for crying out loud; I'm expected to take a gift of some sort if I'm invited to a friend's house for a cook-out.  Based on Mrs. Manners' guide to proper etiquette, wouldn't it be somewhat appropriate for me to try to find some way of paying back the God of the Universe for giving me His Son to forgive my countless sins?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's just it...my gift is acceptance.  That's what God wants from me.  Acceptance and obedience.  That's why He gave us His Word as a guideline for our lives; we don't accept and obey so we'll be loved, but we accept and obey BECAUSE we are loved.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Crazy, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead of dwelling on everything we've done wrong, or feeling proud of what we've done right, or trying to do everything we can to please others and to maybe make things a little better, we can just accept grace and stop trying to manipulate God.  Then we won't have to try to prove ourselves to others or to God, and that will make life a whole lot more simple (since we will never actually be able to prove ourselves to others since only God is Glorious, thus also meaning that we can't prove ourselves to Him because we're epic failures...and we're okay with it!).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All that being said, God's grace can wreck lives in the best way possible.  It's been happening a lot here, and it's absolutely beautiful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yes, the Four G's are just a new way of looking at the fundamental truths about God, but I think they are much easier to grasp (at least for our team) now that we've really dissected them and studied what it means to know and believe these truths.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm finding so much freedom in the G's, specifically in Glory and Grace (or at least lately).  It's the best feeling to know that I am who I am because I AM made me this way.  He, the One that created every freaking star in the sky, made me unique and in His image.  I can place my trust fully in Him and not in what others think of me because He alone is worthy of praise and fear.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life is good.  God is good (great, glorious, and gracious).  Carpe diem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-8929976054044234888?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/8929976054044234888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/gggg.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8929976054044234888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8929976054044234888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/gggg.html' title='GGGG'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-4834612973678216522</id><published>2009-07-05T15:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T16:08:48.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Estonian lesson</title><content type='html'>This video was made on the train from Jõgeva to Tallinn.  I thought you might enjoy hearing the Estonian language while seeing how quickly I'm learning to speak and understand it.  Plus, it gives you a chance to meet my friend Kaur...so enjoy this Estonian lesson.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5237fa8776d97bb6" 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://v15.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5237fa8776d97bb6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331143691%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D759C889F3572C9CB19B0B5D3EC7491B1824CECA2.2880FDA1677557439D67DEA483BA49A0D5F5F4C1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5237fa8776d97bb6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMaM7v0nGp_6jej4tfPJDg6C8WDg&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://v15.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5237fa8776d97bb6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331143691%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D759C889F3572C9CB19B0B5D3EC7491B1824CECA2.2880FDA1677557439D67DEA483BA49A0D5F5F4C1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5237fa8776d97bb6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMaM7v0nGp_6jej4tfPJDg6C8WDg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-4834612973678216522?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=5237fa8776d97bb6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/4834612973678216522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/estonian-lesson.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4834612973678216522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4834612973678216522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/estonian-lesson.html' title='Estonian lesson'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-4509866668203584056</id><published>2009-07-05T03:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T12:26:13.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Speechless.</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SlDSDu-8YRI/AAAAAAAAAGk/AhOe6P-a_pE/s400/DSC_0122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355010918536995090" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;First of all, I want to thank you on behalf of the Jõgeva and Sihva teams for your prayers this past week.  We really felt your support throughout the week, and I can't tell you how grateful we all were to have it.  This past week left me practically speechless.  God moved in unthinkably huge ways at the camps, and I know your prayers were a big part of the life-change that occurred in the hearts of the Estonian youth.  I can't even begin to describe everything that happened, but I'm going to try to give you a brief overview.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Throughout intern training and team training we've used something called the Six Chairs Analogy.  It's a way of classifying where a person is spiritually based on which chair they sit in.  The first chair represents that student that has absolutely no interest in God or anything having to do with him.  The second chair is the student who maybe believes that God exists but still doesn't care too much about submitting to the Lord.  The third chair is the student that believes God exists but isn't quite ready to commit to "the whole Christianity thing."  The fourth chair is the baby Christian.  The fifth is the student that is slowly learning how to lead, and the sixth is the leader.  During training, we would try to define different interests or thoughts about life and Christianity that people in each chair might have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've seen similar analogies used in the past, but I've never seen one so detailed until now.  As we trained, we discussed ways to encourage students to move to the next chair.  In the past at English camps, most students have moved up one chair by the end of the week.  This year, at least in the Jõgeva camp, almost every student moved to chair number three or up.  Many students that showed up the first day claiming, "I don't need any god," accepted Christ on Wednesday night or Thursday morning.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here were the small groups meeting on Thursday morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SlDSDV5pIHI/AAAAAAAAAGc/vk1IxkeZct0/s400/DSC_0053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355010911803875442" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wasn't a small group leader at this camp, so I can't tell you as many specific stories about the students as I would like; I can tell you that watching students who did not care at all in the beginning submit to Christ by the end of camp was one of the greatest blessings I have ever experienced.  I did get to know a few students better than the others this week, and seeing their hearts melted by God's love was an absolutely beautiful experience.  I would love to tell you more about it if we speak in person.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were all tired by the end of the week, but the Lord prevailed and kept us healthy enough and provided us energy to get through it all.  After debriefing in Jõgeva on Friday, we had a big after party with the campers (and it lasted until 2:30 a.m.).  Here are a couple shots from the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SlDSEIJiT3I/AAAAAAAAAGs/FvOTnCs8Ubo/s400/DSC_0143.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355010925292310386" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This was around 11:00 p.m. when some of the campers and leaders were playing a little soccer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SlDSEloMDKI/AAAAAAAAAG0/rPHPnz8kYNg/s400/DSC_0177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355010933205503138" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; We came to Tallinn yesterday and met up with the Sihva team, and now I'm getting ready to meet my fellow interns for breakfast before heading back to Tartu.  It was an incredible first camp, and I cannot thank you enough for your support.  I can't wait to tell you more about it all, but I'm still trying to process everything so it could take awhile!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note, I'm including a picture from last night because it was an awesome evening.  Instead of going to the Tallinn Song Festival like I'd planned, I went with some guys from the team to an old underground bomb shelter (they originally told me they were underground tombs).  We "hunted for zombies" for a while, then got back in the car to head back to Tallinn...or so I thought.  After about five minutes of driving I said, "We're going the opposite direction of town."  They laughed and refused to tell me and the other American where we were going.  I started freaking out a little (at one point I said, "I've seen 'Taken' and I know how this works!") and called Kati so she could talk to one of the Estonians and reassure me that I wasn't&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; being kidnapped.  It turns out that the boys were taking me to a town called Keila to see the sunset over the Baltic.  It was beautiful, and I think it's an experience I will always remember.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pictures can't really do justice to the beauty of this sunset.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SlDSExURcKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/FcavbOi_wBU/s400/DSC_0106.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355010936343195810" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you again for the prayers...please continue to pray for the students from the camps and for everyone that served.  God is doing big things in the lives of the leaders, too, and I know they would appreciate your prayers as they pursue His will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/2289421156496186814-4509866668203584056?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/4509866668203584056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/speechless.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4509866668203584056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4509866668203584056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/07/speechless.html' title='Speechless.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SlDSDu-8YRI/AAAAAAAAAGk/AhOe6P-a_pE/s72-c/DSC_0122.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-3722272369371549812</id><published>2009-06-26T14:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T15:12:36.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You Raise Me Up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The title of this post has nothing to do with anything really, but it's been stuck in my head because Märt has been singing it all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I leave for camp tomorrow.  Märt, Innar, Tarmo, and I are going to a place called Pala to host camp for the youth from Jõgeva while Chris and Liina (my surrogate family/hosts) Brock, Brett, Evelin, and Kati are going to Sihva to host camp for the youth from Pärnu and Elva.  We also have two American teams coming to help us--the Ohio team will be with us in Pala while the North Carolina team will be in Sihva.  I'm excited, and I think the rest of the team(s) is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; excited.  We need your prayers, though.  We're all more than a little tired, and we really need&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; energy as we head into a full week of activity.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The great thing has been seeing how God is completely in control.  Things have not gone according to plan (like the North Carolina team getting stuck in Illinois), but the so-called "problems" always end up being blessings for us.  It's been a very long week as we've been working hard at the office, trying to prepare everything for the start of camp, and by the end of it we were all feeling a little loopy (hence Märt's singing and whatnot).  Just to show you what I mean, here are some pictures I took at the office that past few days...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is Märt.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUaiW0Ln6I/AAAAAAAAAF8/i5I9aeP4C4s/s400/DSC_0378.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351712909742022562" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was trying to drape my scarf in a way that would've protected me if I were Eve in the Garden of Eden.  It didn't quite work out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUairtXR5I/AAAAAAAAAGE/RS98lPbtTr4/s400/DSC_0374.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351712915350570898" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Evelin has no excuse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUai4l76PI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Oe7GB-G2zz4/s400/DSC_0377.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351712918809078002" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To prove that this week was more than just a costume party, here is a glimpse of the set I designed and painted with Brett and Ev's help...it wasn't finished at this point (I think this was about hour 9 of my 1o hour workday on Wednesday), but I'll put up pictures of it once we have it hung at camp.  It took forever, but I'm really pleased with how it turned out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUajOUXDxI/AAAAAAAAAGU/IH_jj6I1fN4/s400/DSC_0381.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351712924640939794" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thank you so much for your prayers and encouragement.  I'm having an incredible time here, and I know that God is going to do HUGE things in everyone's hearts this week.  I can't wait to tell you more about it.  I will be out of contact for the next week, but I'll be in Tallinn on the 4th (for what is apparently the world's greatest song festival) so I'll try to post some sort of update next weekend.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One more thing, tonight when I was on my way home I was stopped by a bus full of men...well, actually one man stopped me.  He was wearing a white tutu.  In broken English he explained that it was his bachelor party and one of his "dares" he had to fulfill was to pick up a woman and take her somewhere on the bus.  Even though I was only a couple hundred meters from home, I agreed (after lots of begging on his behalf) and let the bus take me across the street.  It was hilarious, and I was shocked at how many times they offered me a drink in the minute-long bus ride.  Don't worry (Mom, Dad, or Granddaddy), it wasn't shady or anything.  Just thought you might enjoy that little story.  Okay, ciao!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/2289421156496186814-3722272369371549812?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/3722272369371549812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-raise-me-up.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3722272369371549812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/3722272369371549812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-raise-me-up.html' title='You Raise Me Up.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUaiW0Ln6I/AAAAAAAAAF8/i5I9aeP4C4s/s72-c/DSC_0378.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-2597482678438360353</id><published>2009-06-26T14:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T14:48:45.534-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaanipäev and so on...</title><content type='html'>So this is mostly going to be pictures.  Wednesday, the 23rd, was a huge holiday in Estonia called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jaaniõhtu"&gt;Jaanipäev&lt;/a&gt; (meaning St. John's Day).  It's a day of celebration, bonfires, delicious food, and fun.  For most people, it involves a ridiculous amount of alcohol; for me, it involved going to a town called Jõgeva, which is where the youth group from my first camp is based.  I spent the day hanging out with people that don't speak much English, but the language barrier didn't stop us from having fun!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWlRbE08I/AAAAAAAAAF0/_-sk2S2pp-w/s1600-h/DSC_0354.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Invitation to Jaanipäev in Jõgeva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWlRbE08I/AAAAAAAAAF0/_-sk2S2pp-w/s1600-h/DSC_0354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWkWlDhHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Wp47cFcJzaE/s400/DSC_0151.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351708545991804018" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bonfire in Jõgeva.  at 9 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWlRbE08I/AAAAAAAAAF0/_-sk2S2pp-w/s1600-h/DSC_0354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWlRbE08I/AAAAAAAAAF0/_-sk2S2pp-w/s400/DSC_0354.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351708561787638722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWlDI1erI/AAAAAAAAAFs/r7y6nq2ECGA/s1600-h/DSC_0194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWlDI1erI/AAAAAAAAAFs/r7y6nq2ECGA/s400/DSC_0194.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351708557953039026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Night sky...crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWk1OngwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/DJjeSjsYSVg/s1600-h/DSC_0214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWk1OngwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/DJjeSjsYSVg/s400/DSC_0214.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351708554219193090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Traditional Jaanipäev games...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWkjKyTOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/C8jns8fe750/s1600-h/DSC_0268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWkjKyTOI/AAAAAAAAAFc/C8jns8fe750/s400/DSC_0268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351708549371284706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&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;/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/2289421156496186814-2597482678438360353?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/2597482678438360353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/jaanipaev-and-so-on.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2597482678438360353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/2597482678438360353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/jaanipaev-and-so-on.html' title='Jaanipäev and so on...'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SkUWkWlDhHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Wp47cFcJzaE/s72-c/DSC_0151.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-7805296513832772098</id><published>2009-06-16T14:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T14:52:16.412-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have now been in Estonia for ten days, and I think it's about time that I start introducing some of my new friends.  I've met so many new people, so I'm just going to introduce a few crazy kids that I've had the pleasure of getting to know a bit better over the past week or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meet (front to back):  Brett, Evelin, and Oliver&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgYu_RX2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/61gY3l_q-Wo/s400/DSC_0223_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347989798060646242" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll start with Brett.  He's the other American, and he also hails from the great state of metro-Atlanta.  Brett is about to turn nineteen, and this is his third summer in Estonia.  Yes, I said third.  He came for ten days before his senior year of high school to help at one of the English camps, and the Estonians haven't been able to get rid of him since.  Seriously, though, he was an intern last year and it's been great having someone who knows the ropes but who also knows how to make me feel more comfortable adjusting to life in Estonia.  Brett is a drummer, and his dream is to go to Hillsong College to get a degree as a worship pastor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evelin is next.  Oh my, what can I say about Evelin?  She's just a beautiful ball of joy.  She's crazy as can be, but that's why I love her.  She's eighteen, and she's lived in Tartu all of her life.  She's the only Estonian intern this year, but her personalit(y/ies) sometimes feel like she's about ten people rolled into one.  She's goofy, smart, sweet, sarcastic, and one of the most unique people I've ever met.  I'm so glad we're working together this summer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oliver is great.  I mean, obviously--the kid has dreadlocks.  Of course he's awesome.  I met him this past Sunday, and he had been awake for thirty-five hours straight when I met him; he was slightly delirious, but it didn't take me long to realize why everyone loves him.  He's another person that is just full of life, and he is like a little ray of sunshine everywhere he goes.  He's getting ready to begin his eleven month duty of serving in the Estonian army, a requirement for all Estonian boys (II men).  Oliver is looking forward to his service, though he's not so excited to cut off his dreads.  He says that he once he's done with the army he wants to grow dreadlocks for seven years, and since he's nineteen now I guess he'll be sporting the rasta look into his late twenties.  More power to him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next is Kati...pronounce it Kah-tee, not Katie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgZjRxMOI/AAAAAAAAAFM/5oWul8r2B6Q/s1600-h/DSC_0014_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgZjRxMOI/AAAAAAAAAFM/5oWul8r2B6Q/s400/DSC_0014_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347989812096872674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's probably going to be mad at me for using this picture, but she always hides when I take her picture so this is all I have :).  Kati is turning twenty-four in July, and she works at Risttee as the pastor's assistant.  She and Evelin are two peas in a pod, both crazy and fun to be around.  Kati LOVES Edward Cullen and hip-hop music, and I'm pretty sure she loves America more than Obama does.  She speaks English incredibly well, so I use her as my translator whenever I don't understand the gibberish (just kidding...Estonian is a beautiful language) everyone speaks when they forget there are Americans present.  Love her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is Meelis (May-leez):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgZZTBkNI/AAAAAAAAAFE/g646F-4RcO0/s1600-h/DSC_0229.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgZZTBkNI/AAAAAAAAAFE/g646F-4RcO0/s400/DSC_0229.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347989809417785554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew I'd be friends with Meelis before I even met him because I thought he looked like he could be related to my college pastor.  He was shy when we first met, but he warmed up to me shortly afterwards when I turned on "Bohemian Rhapsody" and he freaked out yelling, "AAAAAHHHHH!!!  THIS IS THE BEST SONG EV-ER!"  I've now realized that he gets that excited about pretty much anything he likes (and he likes a LOT of things).  He's seventeen and crazy about life.  He's the type that will try anything once, and he pretty much reminds me of a male version of myself except I think he might like to shop more than I do.  Crazy, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I give you Maret (Marr-et).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgZJBqW0I/AAAAAAAAAE8/OENgkR2HWQc/s1600-h/DSC_0011_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgZJBqW0I/AAAAAAAAAE8/OENgkR2HWQc/s400/DSC_0011_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347989805049994050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maret is a sweetheart who just moved back to Estonia after spending a couple years in London.  She, too, speaks English incredibly well...maybe even better than I do.  Oh, and she now has an English accent, so I definitely think she sounds better when she speaks.  She is generous and positive, and she just radiates Christ's love.  She makes the most out of pretty much any circumstance, and she is always upbeat.  She also volunteered to be my tour guide this past Saturday when I wanted to explore Tartu, and she didn't bail on me even when it started pouring down rain.  She's great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This last picture is a shot of Kati, Oliver, Brett, me, Meelis, and two other friends, Hanna and Timo, this past Sunday.  We spent the afternoon at the house where Brett is living, and it was so wonderful to just hang out with friends (and make a pie and do four haircuts).  The best part of the evening was when I got to Skype with my parents and introduce them to everyone; they all agreed that Bill and Lindsay rock.  I hope you've enjoyed getting to know some of my new friends!  Keep up with the prayers; we all appreciate your support!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgY1c4rbI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bsBMOtp84RE/s1600-h/DSC_0236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgY1c4rbI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bsBMOtp84RE/s400/DSC_0236.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347989799795469746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-7805296513832772098?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/7805296513832772098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/meet-and-greet.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7805296513832772098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7805296513832772098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/meet-and-greet.html' title='Meet and Greet'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjfgYu_RX2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/61gY3l_q-Wo/s72-c/DSC_0223_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-387774774225681543</id><published>2009-06-12T18:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T06:32:09.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dandelions</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjLRCEXa6XI/AAAAAAAAAEU/VthUmSYd-xU/s400/DSC_0307.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346565541104118130" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Matthew 13:31-32:  "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;sup id="en-NIV-23571" class="versenum" value="31" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: text-top; line-height: normal; "&gt;31&lt;/sup&gt;He told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. &lt;sup id="en-NIV-23572" class="versenum" value="32" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: text-top; line-height: normal; "&gt;32&lt;/sup&gt;Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;Now that I finally have a few free minutes, I'd love to share something that happened on the intern training retreat.  My teammates and I split up for half an hour to spend some time alone with God, and during this time I decided to walk through a large field of dandelions and sit by the lake it bordered.  As I sat and talked to God, I felt led to read the Parable of the Mustard Seed, a parable that I've never really been able to relate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt; to since I've never seen a mustard tree.  As I read the verses I couldn't help but look around at the thousands of dandelions surrounding me and thinking, "This is what Jesus was talking about!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjLSllO2g9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/IEhjanY4vj8/s400/DSC_0290.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346567250733597650" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;Yes, I know dandelions aren't strong trees.  That being said, they are weeds which is exactly what farmers considered mustard seeds to be during Jesus's time on earth.  Weeds are nearly impossible to uproot.  Weeds spread their seeds quickly with the help of the wind.  Weeds take over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;As Christ-followers, we should want to be weeds.  We should be willing to go wherever the Lord wants us to go in order to share His story.  We should be so firmly rooted in our faith that nobody can lead us astray.  We should spread God's love all over until His presence is known everywhere we go.  We should be dandelions.  We should be mustard seeds.  We should be witnesses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;So that was just one of the many things God communicated to me during the retreat.  The rest I will just have to tell you in person because, like I said in my previous entry, it's far too long a story to write about.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;I have had a great first week in Tartu; I'm looking forward to having this weekend for some R&amp;amp;R time, and I'm also excited about getting back into the office on Monday to get serious with the prep work for the English camps.  Please continue to keep my team and the people of Estonia in your prayers; this is a dark country, but God is doing some amazing things in the hearts of the people here.  Thank you for your&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt; support!  Or, as we say in Estonia, aitäh (pronounced eye-tuh)!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjLW1YqOkxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/N0j8IAQOLJY/s400/DSC_0039_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346571920283177746" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;Lo B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Charis SIL';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-387774774225681543?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/387774774225681543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/dandelions.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/387774774225681543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/387774774225681543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/dandelions.html' title='Dandelions'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjLRCEXa6XI/AAAAAAAAAEU/VthUmSYd-xU/s72-c/DSC_0307.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-6801093965314472434</id><published>2009-06-11T16:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T17:11:52.758-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Too long to write about...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjFylxSu82I/AAAAAAAAAEM/OBAKvioYuFg/s1600-h/DSC_0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjFylxSu82I/AAAAAAAAAEM/OBAKvioYuFg/s320/DSC_0045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346180225878127458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well these past few days were awesome, but it would be far too hard for me to sum it all up in a short little blog entry.  Instead, I'll just give you the link to my &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2025890&amp;amp;id=1120590266&amp;amp;l=4b0a3760d3"&gt;facebook&lt;/a&gt; so you can see lots of pictures.  Enjoy!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and the picture above is from our team's excursion to a ropes course in the Estonian countryside.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-6801093965314472434?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/6801093965314472434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/too-long-to-write-about.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6801093965314472434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6801093965314472434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/too-long-to-write-about.html' title='Too long to write about...'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SjFylxSu82I/AAAAAAAAAEM/OBAKvioYuFg/s72-c/DSC_0045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-4361187290908886117</id><published>2009-06-07T13:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T13:50:42.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Estonia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I'm here!  It's currently 8:18 p.m. and a lovely 53 degrees Fahrenheit in Tartu.  The other American intern, Brett, and I arrived in Tallinn last night around 6:00 (after our flight from Frankfurt was delayed for an hour as we sat on the tarmac) and were picked up by a husband and his wife, Inar and Siri (I probably misspelled their names).  We began the 2 1/2 hour drive to Tartu and stopped along the way to eat at a quaint little restaurant that used to be a windmill.  We finally got in to Tartu around 10:00, and I met my new boss, Chris, and his wife, Liina.  I'm going to be living with them when we're in Tartu, and they're awesome people.  I crashed not long after getting settled in, and I slept for about 11 hours (though now it doesn't feel like I slept long enough).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We went to church this morning at Risttee Church and I got to meet a lot of new friends.  After church we (Chris, Liina, Brett, and two Estonian girls, Kati and Evelin) went to lunch at a restaurant that has a giant bird cage inside it along with 2 WC's (water closets, obviously) that look like giant bird's eggs.  Liina had to leave after lunch, so Chris, Brett, and I went to get coffee in the city square while Evelin and Kati ran a few errands.  We met up again and went to see "Angels and Demons" (movie tickets here cost half the price they do in America) during which I fell asleep.  Oops.  Chris, Brett, and I came home and spent some time talking and getting to know each other better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I'm getting ready to go to bed again since work starts tomorrow.  I have to be at the church office at 9:45 tomorrow so I can participate in the 10:00 staff meeting.  After a few hours of work we will have lunch and get ready to leave for intern training.  Brett, Evelin, and I are the only interns, so we have our work cut out for us.  We will spend the next few days in the Estonian countryside where we'll be planning and doing a lot of team-building activities.  I'm excited to really get into the work, and I should be back in Tartu on Friday with lots to report about our plans for the camps.  Until then, I believe I will be incommunicado.  Thank you for your prayers...keep them up!  Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and for some unknown reason I can't upload any pictures right now, so I'll post some later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-4361187290908886117?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/4361187290908886117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/welcome-to-estonia.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4361187290908886117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/4361187290908886117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/welcome-to-estonia.html' title='Welcome to Estonia'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-6865763787149614317</id><published>2009-06-02T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T00:06:00.829-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Three More Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm currently feeling inspired by my good friend Ray LaMontagne (I call him my good friend because I met him in San Diego...and he was the most socially awkward person I've ever met) and his song "Three More Days."  The inspiration lies in the fact that I'm leaving in three days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  Original, I know.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I guess the realization of my imminent departure is more bittersweet than anything else; while I'm so excited about this summer, I'm pretty bummed about one thing that is going to take place while I'm gone.  No, I'm not talking about the No Doubt concert on &lt;a href="http://nodoubt.com/events/detail.aspx?eid=59332&amp;amp;cmnt=1"&gt;June 5 &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(since it OF COURSE has to be the day I leave)...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;or the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKanbidzvUQ"&gt;Jason Mraz&lt;/a&gt; concert in July...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm talking about how my life-long friend is moving in the middle of July &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;to go to &lt;a href="http://www2.hillsong.com/college/home.asp"&gt;school&lt;/a&gt; for two years in Australia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If you don't know Haylie, well, it's your loss.  Hay and I met when we were seven years old and ice skating at the same rink.  To use her words, she was the little butterball with bangs and I was eyes, teeth, and legs.  Case in point:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SiXzH0ZheTI/AAAAAAAAAD0/f9om3nYUzzY/s320/IMG_0025.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342943848595290418" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Since the days of early morning practices at the rink, Hay has become more like a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sister to me than anything else.  We've been through everything together.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Literally, I think people associate us with each other. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Like when I show up somewhere by myself someone always asks, "Where's Haylie?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She is, without a doubt, one of my favorite people on earth.  She is one of the most joyful people I know, and I'm going to miss her like crazy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I love all my friends, of course, and I'm going to miss them terribly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SiX1GzrNlBI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ayYwO3PgEWM/s320/DSC_0138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342946030244434962" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SiX1GviYkPI/AAAAAAAAAD8/17UkfTasvkQ/s320/DSC_0139.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342946029133664498" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But they aren't going to be in a different hemisphere when I get home.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SiXyXwSGHWI/AAAAAAAAADk/SdNt79ZeS8s/s320/DSC_0062.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342943022856674658" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So while I'm thanking God for the opportunity He's given me this summer, I'm also thanking Him for thirteen wonderful years (and the many still to come) He's given me the privilege of sharing with Haylie Francesca Montgomery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SiXyYHR7IoI/AAAAAAAAADs/jteUZpshcWE/s320/DSC_0217.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342943029029970562" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here's looking at you, kid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Until Estonia--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-6865763787149614317?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/6865763787149614317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/three-more-days.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6865763787149614317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6865763787149614317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/06/three-more-days.html' title='Three More Days'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/SiXzH0ZheTI/AAAAAAAAAD0/f9om3nYUzzY/s72-c/IMG_0025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-7933136196621861889</id><published>2009-05-23T14:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T15:14:16.989-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sutton Rhys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/ShhJ13YcGMI/AAAAAAAAADM/EZxaDcAoQtY/s320/DSC_0016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339098547996072130" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thrilled to announce that Sutton Rhys Watts arrived at 7:49 p.m. on Friday, May 22, 2009.  Weighing in at 7 lbs, 6 oz and measuring 19 inches (despite being only 36 weeks), he is healthy and happy.  Thank you for your prayers for his safe arrival, and thank you if you prayed that he would come before I left!  Here are some pictures I took just after he was born...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/ShhJ1mGD4yI/AAAAAAAAADE/WrfPY2QDvRc/s320/DSC_0014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339098543355585314" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/ShhJ1vyRtmI/AAAAAAAAAC8/qNFdojpDBWo/s320/DSC_0011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339098545956959842" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 203px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/ShhJ1Wi106I/AAAAAAAAAC0/pSFb8yloXQY/s320/DSC_0009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339098539181331362" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/ShhJ2MLnoiI/AAAAAAAAADU/rFPAMa7_OWc/s320/DSC_0021.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339098553579446818" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I already know I'm going to miss the little guy once I leave!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-7933136196621861889?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/7933136196621861889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/05/sutton-rhys.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7933136196621861889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7933136196621861889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/05/sutton-rhys.html' title='Sutton Rhys'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/ShhJ13YcGMI/AAAAAAAAADM/EZxaDcAoQtY/s72-c/DSC_0016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-8399970308290860656</id><published>2009-05-10T16:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T13:10:25.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm about to make a Britney reference.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Yesterday marked a moment of a life-changing realization:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;I have become an adult.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I've known for awhile that I was on my way to adulthood, but I was stuck in the mindset that being a nineteen year old with a career made me more like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUTrn3Bbjbs"&gt;Britney.&lt;/a&gt;..Not a girl, not yet a woman.  I knew that life was changing once my sister and cousins started reproducing as quickly as a small colony of &lt;a href="http://mammals.suite101.com/article.cfm/rabbit_reproduction"&gt;rabbits&lt;/a&gt;, but still I was under the misapprehension that I would be wandering in No-Man's-Land indefinitely.  The event that took place yesterday changed my whole perspective.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;        My friend Gene got married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you that don't know Gene, I feel I must clarify.  Gene and I graduated together a couple of years ago, and he was one of my best friends throughout most of high school.  He is a great guy, but he's definitely not the type that would have won the "Most Likely to Get Married Before He Can Purchase Alcohol" superlative (had there been one) during school.  He's grown &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;up more than anyone else from our class over the past couple of years, but it's still a shock to see him as a married man.  One thing that hasn't changed since graduation is Gene's fun-lov&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ing personality.  For instance, take a look at this picture of the lovely couple's first dance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sgc3H-UMKsI/AAAAAAAAACI/oH4mdh4gZ2M/s1600-h/DSCN4548.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sgc3H-UMKsI/AAAAAAAAACI/oH4mdh4gZ2M/s320/DSCN4548.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334292893769935554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Right after I took this picture, Gene started jumping up and down while his wife, Tayla, started head-banging to the music.  I'm just glad he's found someone that is also goofy and fun; I know their attitudes compliment each other, and their Christ-centered union is going to be more prosperous than I think any of us can fathom.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So Gene's nuptials were a wake-up call.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm an adult.  I may not always act like it (because honestly, &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Pan"&gt;who really wants to be mature all the time&lt;/a&gt;?), but I'm slowly realizing that it's my turn to grow up.  It has to happen at some point, so I might as well make the most of it while I can.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think that's one of the main reasons I'm so excited about going to Estonia.  I'm looking forward to the growth I'll experience from being independent.  I love my family (P.S. Happy Mother's Day to all the hot moms reading this...yes, you're hot.  Embrace it.) and friends, but I know God is really going to stretch me and mold me through this internship.  I think I'm going to come home with a new perspective on life and how to be a &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs%2031:10-31;&amp;amp;version=31;"&gt;Proverbs 31 woman&lt;/a&gt;.  While I'm ready to be taken seriously as an adult, I can rest assured that I'll never be too old to have fun...I mean, I'm going to be playing with my food for a living (and playing dress-up and beauty shop on the side), so how much more fun could I possibly have?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So I leave you with a few reminders, whether you're eight or eighty, enjoy EVERY moment God has blessed you with.  Don't dwell on the past or focus too much on the future; doing so is nothing more than putting God in a box, trying to fit Him into your own plan instead of letting Him show you His plan for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And just for fun (and because it's Mother's day and I know my mom will like seeing these classics) I'm providing you a visual aid as to what I've just talked about.  Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sgc_4PtcqPI/AAAAAAAAACQ/9GunhzgELzo/s320/IMG.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334302519166019826" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sgc_4KqkHwI/AAAAAAAAACY/sBc7byhz0dU/s320/IMG_0001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334302517811748610" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And in case you're wondering, the answer is YES--I WILL ALWAYS LOVE "THE LITTLE MERMAID."  And yes, I know I had a bowl cut.  And yes, I really did wear hair bows like that on a regular basis.  And yes, I will probably wear more ridiculous things in the future, because I'll never be too old to have fun.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now go listen to "100 Years" by Five for Fighting and be excited about the &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sgc_4Qd5jQI/AAAAAAAAACg/MZMkfphka88/s320/IMG_0002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334302519369239810" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;future.  Carpe diem!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lo B.&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/2289421156496186814-8399970308290860656?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/8399970308290860656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/05/whats-happening-to-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8399970308290860656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/8399970308290860656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/05/whats-happening-to-me.html' title='I&apos;m about to make a Britney reference.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sgc3H-UMKsI/AAAAAAAAACI/oH4mdh4gZ2M/s72-c/DSCN4548.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-6366894767124237722</id><published>2009-04-28T22:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T22:47:49.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahem...TOOT TOOT.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;In case you didn't know, I'm planning on going to culinary school once I get back from Estonia.  I want to specialize in baking and patisserie, and I'm pretty sure I will become the next big Food Network star.  I'm not talking about being a Rachael Ray type or anything (honestly, I just don't understand why I find her so irritating), but I'm thinking my show will be more along the lines of "Ace of Cakes" or something like that.  I'll probably incorporate some musical numbers into the baking, too, since nothing is better than a delicious dessert with a little music playing in the background.  Maybe I'll choose a song by the band Cake for my theme...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Now that I'm (almost) done rambling, I should probably get to the point.  Last week marked a monumental occasion in the life of this Baker (pun intended):  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I made my first cake using fondant icing.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;While the thought of using fondant may not thrill you--you may not even know what fondant is--or even remotely grab your interest, I feel it is only fair for me to tell you that it's not as easy a feat to accomplish as you might think.  Imagine rolling some very stick play-dough into a 1/8" pancake, then trying to lift the play-dough without tearing it and covering a cake with it.  Like I said, it's not as easy as it sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Anyhoo, I decided to take on a lofty challenge and make a two-tiered cake for a bridal shower my mom and I were hosting.  Instead of buying some nasty pre-made fondant from the store I wanted to make my own from scratch.  After many hours of hard work and sweat (the secret ingredient to my oh-so-delicious cake), this is what I came up with:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sfe98fMaTaI/AAAAAAAAACA/GgEeds9DljI/s1600-h/Photo+3.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sfe98fMaTaI/AAAAAAAAACA/GgEeds9DljI/s320/Photo+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329937530879626658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Okay, so maybe I'm not the best at taking pictures, but you get the idea, right?  And while I'm not usually one to toot my own horn, I feel a TOOT TOOT is in order.  It's by no means perfect, but overall I'm quite proud of my work and thought you might enjoy seeing the fruit of my labor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's really all I felt like sharing.  I don't have much else to mention, so I guess I'll just sign off now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.  I'm just going to sign as LB from now on because I looked at my friend Holly's blog for the first time in a while and realized that she already calls herself a Sojourner; if you know how Holly and I roll, you know that she and I have similar taste with a lot of things and we constantly joke about how we want to be each other (and I can't add any fuel to that fire).  So yes, I'm just LB now.  Okay, bye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-6366894767124237722?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/6366894767124237722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/04/ahemtoot-toot.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6366894767124237722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/6366894767124237722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/04/ahemtoot-toot.html' title='Ahem...TOOT TOOT.'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/Sfe98fMaTaI/AAAAAAAAACA/GgEeds9DljI/s72-c/Photo+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-7001833278536526560</id><published>2009-04-13T13:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T14:39:11.215-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coincidence</title><content type='html'>Coincidence: (noun) a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I don't believe in coincidence.  I don't think something "just happens."  I think that the omnipotent, omnipresent Creator of the entire vast universe puts His personal touch (let's call them God moments) on even seemingly small events.  I believe He has a sense of humor, and sometimes I think he just wants to make sure His presence is known.  Yesterday there were a couple of cool God moments I feel like sharing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Last night I went to Midtown Community Church with my friends Haylie and Melanie.  Since it was Easter the service was mostly focused on worship, and it was an incredible time of fellowship and praise for the Risen Lord.  After the service everyone walked a couple blocks to the pastor's home for a baptism service.  The baptism was different than anything I was used to for a couple reasons: A) the baptismal pool was, in fact, a hot tub on the pastor's back porch, B) plenty of people chose that night to make their outward declaration of the faith instead of the typical routine of going through classes and whatnot before being&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; allowed&lt;/span&gt; to be baptized, and C) people of the church took time to tell stories of how each person being baptized had personally impacted them through friendship and service.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;One of the last people to be baptized was a man named Samuel.  Samuel is at least six-foot-five, and, to quote the pastor, he would be one of the most intimidating people to encounter if it weren't very his ever-present smile.  As person after person shared their stories about how Samuel has been a true representation of Jesus to them, all I wanted to do was give him a hug.  He didn't revel in the attention or anything, but he humbly glorified God as people sang his praises.  The pastor finally intervened and said that if everyone present shared how Samuel had affected their lives then we would be there all night, so they asked Samuel if there was anything he wanted to share before being baptized.  He simply thanked everyone for being a part of his life and said "Long Live the King!" (which was the topic of the sermon at church).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;When Samuel was baptized (by two men, for that matter), the coolest God moment happened.  As he came out of the water, he threw his hands in the air and let out a joyous yell.  Right as he did that a HUGE gust of wind swept over the crowd.  Some skeptics might say it was just foreshadowing the storm that would come later in the evening, but I believe God was just making his presence &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;felt&lt;/span&gt; instead of just being &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;known&lt;/span&gt;.  It was like He was saying, "I am here.  I am powerful.  My servant, Samuel, is living proof of the great things I can do if you will just relinquish control to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So obviously that was pretty powerful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Later on I was driving Haylie home when she asked me how I was feeling as I prepare for Estonia.  I told her I was excited, scared, and a little bit of everything in between.  I said didn't know how to appropriately describe exactly what I was feeling...and that's when it happened.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;***I feel I need to preface the next part by saying that I have 2,672 songs on my iPod currently, and music is pretty the best form of therapy I could ever ask for.  I feel like there's a song for any emotion or situation, as made evident by my penchant for spontaneously bursting into song (a trait I inherited from my mother, no doubt).  That being said, what happened was a total God moment.***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So I told Haylie I didn't know how to appropriately describe how I was feeling when my iPod shuffled to the next song: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NSsvll8CPk"&gt;"I Have Confidence" from &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NSsvll8CPk"&gt;The Sound of Music&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;.  Yes, I love showtunes and I'm not ashamed to admit it, but that's not the point; as the song started, Haylie and I just looked at each other, shocked and elated, and began singing along.  I replaced the line "A captain with seven children" with "A country in eastern Europe" and it was a perfect match.  The song ended, and Haylie and I burst out laughing.  We agreed that God's sense of humor is way better than ours, and our conversation moved on to the next topic.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think as I continue to prepare for this summer, I really just need prayer for confidence more than anything.  I feel like once I get the hang of things I will be good to go, but it's the fear of the unknown that has me feeling a bit like the Cowardly Lion.  Please just keep praying that I'll have confidence in both sunshine and rain and that God will continue to mold me into the woman he has made me to be.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;A Sojourner  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&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/2289421156496186814-7001833278536526560?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/7001833278536526560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/04/coincidence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7001833278536526560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/7001833278536526560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/04/coincidence.html' title='Coincidence'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2289421156496186814.post-1993358678052329100</id><published>2009-04-04T21:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T22:07:18.669-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adventure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enlightenment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>The Journey Begins...</title><content type='html'>While I'm not sure who will actually be reading my blog, I will be updating it fairly often nonetheless.  In case you aren't already aware, God has been working in my life in some pretty serious ways recently.  After feeling led to quit my job last year, I took some time off to try to figure out where the next step of my journey would lead me.  I did a bit of traveling around the U.S. only to discover that God had much bigger plans for me.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I tried to figure out where God wanted me, I went through a very draining period of brokenness and rebuilding.  I felt like everything was going right in everyone's life but my own.  I was sad; I was lonely; I was confused; I was mad at God.  Finally, after many different doors began to open for me, I felt like I was finally being led somewhere (albeit, not somewhere that I had even remotely anticipated going).  I was being led to &lt;a href="http://http://www.christianworldwideweb.com/languages/images/estonia2.jpg"&gt;Estonia&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Up until February of 2008 I wasn't even aware that Estonia existed.  Maybe I was ignorant, or maybe I was just like most people (quite possibly YOU) and had never heard of the little country in eastern Europe.  I learned more about Estonian life when one of my best friends went there on a mission trip.  She fell in love with the culture and the people, and she returned to Atlanta telling me how much I would love it there.  I trust my friend's judgement, but I never thought God would lead me to spend my entire summer in Estonia...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In February of 2009 I spoke to my college pastor at Buckhead Church about feeling led to do some sort of missions work during the summer.  A couple of days later he told  me about an internship opportunity in Estonia that would involve me using my gifts to witness to Estonian students while establishing meaningful relationships with them.  The internship sounded like every little detail I had hoped for all put into one job.  After further investigation and prayer, I felt like this was the opportunity that God wanted me to pursue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That leads me to where I am now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am leaving on June 5 to spend approximately two months in Estonia working with students across the country.  I will be an intern with an organization called &lt;a href="http://www.josiahventure.com/opportunities/opportunities.php?oppID=24"&gt;Josiah Venture&lt;/a&gt;, and I will help run "English camps" for Estonian students; our goal is to help students feel more comfortable speaking in conversational English while presenting the Gospel to them in a non-threatening way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estonia is arguably the&lt;a href="http://www.usnews.com/articles/opinion/2009/02/11/5-least-religious-countries-in-the-world.html"&gt; least religious country&lt;/a&gt; in the world, and I am hoping to be a part of changing that.  Many Estonians feel threatened by Americans; they think all we care about is converting them.  My goal is to be a beacon of LIGHT through my actions more than anything else.  I want my new friends to see the joy I have found in Jesus Christ without me having to tell them how much God has done for me.  I know I won't be able to witness strictly through my lifestyle, but I'm hoping that God will work more through my work than through my words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I continue to prepare for this incredible experience, I want to ask you for your support in the following ways:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.   &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PRAYER&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;for the TEAM &lt;/span&gt;---  PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE pray for strength, courage, endurance, and unity for everyone on the Estonia team.  We will grow tired and weary, but our strength will be &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=isaiah%2040:31"&gt;renewed&lt;/a&gt;.  Please pray for us as we stretch ourselves mentally and physically.  Ask the Lord to protect us and to continually remind us of who He is and why we serve Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PRAYER for the STUDENTS &lt;/span&gt;--- Please pray for the students to be open to the Lord both as we work with them and after each camp is finished.  Ask God to continue to work in their lives long after the summer.  Pray for incredible life change for every person we encounter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FINANCIAL SUPPORT &lt;/span&gt;---  I was very late in the application process, so I have to raise $3,300 plus the cost of airfare (approximately $1,500) by May 1st.  I know that given the way the economy is right now it is going to be quite a stretch for anyone to donate support, but I appreciate ANY help you can offer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CORRESPONDENCE&lt;/span&gt; --- Please stay in touch with me throughout the summer!  I would love to hear from you, and I will try to check my email (LoBake@comcast.net) and my blog as often as possible.  Any glimpse of home life will be quite a comfort, especially since I will be gone for both the birth of my nephew and for my mother's 29th (*cough, 50TH!, cough*) birthday.  Send me pictures, updates, ANYTHING please!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you so, so much for your support as I begin this incredible adventure.  I can't wait to tell you more about it as everything progresses.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peace and Love,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Sojourner&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2289421156496186814-1993358678052329100?l=logan-baker.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/feeds/1993358678052329100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/04/journey-begins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/1993358678052329100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2289421156496186814/posts/default/1993358678052329100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://logan-baker.blogspot.com/2009/04/journey-begins.html' title='The Journey Begins...'/><author><name>Lolie B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16919907086347160848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='13' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iqVL3TyDfr4/TMMLksLdLHI/AAAAAAAAAMo/06PaWR4vYzY/S220/IMG.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
